Installation view of 《Forced Rhythm》 © CHAPTER II

Pushing open the exhibition door, there was a QR code beneath the desk. In the space to the left, accompanied by noise, a conveyor belt rotated in midair while various images unfolded. Later, I realized that the film inside the projector had been rotating endlessly. I came to grasp the narrative after searching through Youngho Lee’s previous works on Vimeo.

Through the implementation of augmented reality, the work reveals art, illusion, and even the object itself. Technology/media/AI/ChatGPT/media aesthetics/artificial intelligence/augmented reality. These words are not merely words, but prove themselves to be reality in and of themselves. Moreover, within this framework, they make genuine aesthetic experience possible.

The artist certainly created reality. The moment I entered the room, I had already moved beyond the world I had seen through the show window. In the window gallery outside the exhibition space, film-related objects including projectors were displayed. It could perhaps be described as a kind of proposition.

When I went to see the exhibition, a taxi happened to be parked in front of the real world rather than in front of the preview for the main exhibition/cinema. To me, that very place felt like a code of reality itself. When I entered again and scanned the QR code, it felt as though I were looking into Duchamp’s world, while simultaneously lingering somewhere in between it all.

Erratum Musical was created by Marcel Duchamp in 1913, yet it was never performed during his lifetime. The alibi of that reality was art. Was this what Youngho Lee intended all along? I could not follow the story the artist was attempting to explain. Perhaps this was an implementation of anachrony, the literary technique that disregards chronological order in narrative arrangement.

Even Alice from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland would probably not have experienced something like this. Augmented reality alternates between the exhibition space and the smartphone screen. Yet another screen seems to sustain all of this simultaneously. It feels far too encompassing to simply call it a background.

What emerges here cannot merely be described as an atmosphere produced by media and technology. Can the artist’s desire truly perform my own desire? Perhaps desire itself — or its object — is simply different. The production of hazy fog felt deeply suggestive. It does not seem eager to reveal itself outright. Is that why it functions as a medium? There is a story, but whenever one attempts to connect it, the path becomes blocked midway. Was that obstruction intentional from the beginning? Fantasies such as these have long been subjects of aesthetic discourse.

Should we call the place where painting, cinema, and media all converge the world — or reality itself? There was once a time, long ago, when methods of representation were the central concern of art critics. The accuracy of representation was believed to perfect illusion itself. One work that traces this trajectory is Art and Illusion: a psychological study of pictorial representation by E. H. Gombrich.

But is landscape objective or subjective? Twentieth-century art remained fluid somewhere between the two. Then, according to François Jullien in On Landscape, European art eventually let go of the question altogether. This fluidity continued contrapuntally between the modern and the postmodern, and it is this condition that we call contemporary art.

Temporal horizons and placeness permeate it. In relation to this new phase, the object of art indicated by technology becomes yet another object altogether. It may be described as a landscape in which media and aesthetics intermingle. Such a condition demands interpretation, because what theories of media aesthetics attempt to explain about the world is far from clear.

The reality produced by image and sound is unfamiliar and difficult, and it is not easy to locate the relationship between that landscape and the world in which we live. This stands in sharp contrast to the aesthetics of mimesis.

In this context, what does it mean to understand the point that Youngho Lee has in mind? I heard the artist speak about the relationship between engineers, producers, and artists. Perhaps what she means is that the reality they collectively produce is itself art.

References