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Conceived during the artist's residency in Norway in 2023, shelter conflates engagement with environmental crises with emotional refuge.

 

On the small island of Fleinvær, located north of the Arctic Circle, Chen became acutely aware of the stark transformations in nature, where seabirds circle endlessly over a sea that once offered them refuge on solid ice. Due to rising global temperatures, it is estimated that nearly 27 billion tons of ice are disappearing from the planet each year. The plight of the birds is a prophetic omen that will eventually affect all species.

 

In Alain Corbin’s “A History of the Wind (La rafale et le zéphyr)”, the wind is described as an intimate, formless force that influences human sensations and emotions. Like the changes in our environment, this “noisy emptiness” profoundly affects our internal states. Chen’s experience on Fleinvær becomes a lens through which to explore how external forces—climate change, natural disasters, and societal inequities—penetrate our daily lives. The heart, she suggests, is indeed stormy at times, resonating with the turmoil of the world around us.

 

Through a cross-media approach, Chen integrates digital media into her work, treating the screen as a window that connects the real and the virtual. For her, this fusion is not merely about the novelty of technology; it is about conveying the emotional nuances and vulnerabilities inherent in our modern existence. As we increasingly engage with digital platforms, we risk becoming distanced from nature and the physical world.

 

Chen’s works serve as a metaphorical shelter for those affected by the winds of change, offering a refuge not only from the physical impacts of climate change but also from the emotional and psychological effects as well. The melting glaciers and rising sea levels symbolize the broader socio-environmental issues we face and remind us of our shared vulnerabilities. Reciprocally, “shelter” points toward faint warnings that can often lead to more urgent alarms—much like the accumulation of dust that only becomes apparent when we are suffocated by it.

Diary from the Arctic Circle, 2024

 

duration: 2’’16

 

digital animation

video link:https://vimeo.com/1038857338?share=copy

 

Referencing the weather and mood recorded in my diary during the residency, I used software to simulate each day’s wind, sunlight, turbulence, and shape of the sea. The mood reflected in my diary also became a highly influential meteorological factor. 

Soft Window, 2024

 

floor: 

 

 265 x 242 x 180 cm  / 49.4 x 18x 84.7

 

Oak, magnets, steel nails, silicone, elastic fabric

 

 

 

装置的主体被风压到歪斜,倒到地平线以下,全球变暖的带来的极端天气正在成指数倍上涨。

“10.16 依旧 15级大风 多亏了被钢丝绳紧紧拉住的小木屋,这几天真的还好有你。” 日记中对小屋说的话。有些压迫式的狭小空间让我第一次和建筑距离这么近,避难所变成了另一层衣服。也让我重新审视避难所的重要性。

细碎的砂石和我们面临的问题一样似粉尘慢慢侵入,不迫在眉睫我们就先选择忽视。

 

 

Wind-pressurized to the point of being wrenched askew and collapsed below the horizon. Extreme weather increases in tandem with global warming.

 

“October 16th, 15 gale force winds still blow. Many thanks to this wood house, secured tightly by the wire rope. It's really good to have you these days.” Words to the wood house from my diary. 

 

The somewhat oppressively small space has made me intimate with the house for the first time, the shelter becoming another layer of clothing. It also made me reconsider the importance of refuge.

 

The fine gravel and the problems we face seem to be the same as the slow intrusion of dust- but as it is not imminent at first, we choose to ignore it.

 

Bring Back the Air, 2024

 

19 x 13 cm 

 

Silver Needle Pencil on paper

 

 

带空气回来, 2024

 

19 x 13 cm

 

纸上银针笔

 

 

 

用银针笔记录下整个岛,再用岛上的空气氧化,把空气也一起带回来。

 

 

I painted the whole island with a silver needle pen, then oxidized the painting with the island's air. The island air came returned with me.

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