"Catagelophobia"
March 29, 2010 - April 2, 2010
Kenyon College, Olin Art Gallery
Gambier, OH
It's on the strength of observation and reflection that one finds a way. So we must dig and delve unceasingly.
— Claude Monet
Catagelophobia: the fear of being ridiculed, judged. Whether we would like to admit it or not, we are all susceptible to feeling vulnerable and exposed throughout much of our daily lives. For fear of being judged, we tend to hide our true feelings and emotions from the outside world. We bury our genuine personalities, locking them away until we feel comfortable enough to release them. Based on the ideas of vulnerability and revelation, my installation forces viewers to overcome their hesitations and enter a world where people speak freely about their fears and, ultimately, reveal their true personalities. This fully immersive installation, narrowly lit and supplemented with intimate recorded conversations and composite photography, allows the viewer to discover that the true essence of a person is not always evident on the surface.
I was a rather shy, quiet child growing up. It seemed I was always in the background, silently observing. As I grew older, I began to notice even the most insubstantial nuances and behaviors of everyday life: my mother would change the tone and pitch of her voice depending on who she was speaking to; friends would act differently when conversing with me as opposed to a large group; I would shift nervously from side to side, my feet in constant motion, when I would meet someone new.
The human personality is continuously morphing and altering itself depending on different social situations. Through observation, it seems we are taught to self‐edit our personal feelings and secrets, cautious to the fact that if we reveal too much of our inner selves, we are bound to get hurt, criticized, or ridiculed in the process. We tend to hide our true emotions, bury our fears, and internalize some of our feelings, thus censoring ourselves from the outside world. Underneath those heavy layers of self preservation lies the true essence and individuality of each person.
It is through my work that I hope to break through the barriers of secrecy and self doubt that seem inherent within the human social framework. My installation will appear foreign and strange, thus allowing viewers to forget the constraints of society; they are entering a space far different from the everyday world they live in. Composite photographs of hands and faces, trapped within the confines of a light box are analogous to the human struggle of self‐censorship. We want to break free from the norm, but are afraid of the consequences. Dimly lit, with echoes of human voices bouncing off the walls, my installation forces viewers to cast aside their inhibitions and confront the unknown. Walking down the corridor, between two sets of identical, translucent, flowing black curtains, creates an unfamiliar world, a distorted reality. The light boxes pulsate on and off in rhythmic time, while an audio montage plays in the background. Voices describe fears and hopes, providing a glimpse into conversations that appear to be uncensored and true.
Kenyon College, Olin Art Gallery
Gambier, OH
It's on the strength of observation and reflection that one finds a way. So we must dig and delve unceasingly.
— Claude Monet
Catagelophobia: the fear of being ridiculed, judged. Whether we would like to admit it or not, we are all susceptible to feeling vulnerable and exposed throughout much of our daily lives. For fear of being judged, we tend to hide our true feelings and emotions from the outside world. We bury our genuine personalities, locking them away until we feel comfortable enough to release them. Based on the ideas of vulnerability and revelation, my installation forces viewers to overcome their hesitations and enter a world where people speak freely about their fears and, ultimately, reveal their true personalities. This fully immersive installation, narrowly lit and supplemented with intimate recorded conversations and composite photography, allows the viewer to discover that the true essence of a person is not always evident on the surface.
I was a rather shy, quiet child growing up. It seemed I was always in the background, silently observing. As I grew older, I began to notice even the most insubstantial nuances and behaviors of everyday life: my mother would change the tone and pitch of her voice depending on who she was speaking to; friends would act differently when conversing with me as opposed to a large group; I would shift nervously from side to side, my feet in constant motion, when I would meet someone new.
The human personality is continuously morphing and altering itself depending on different social situations. Through observation, it seems we are taught to self‐edit our personal feelings and secrets, cautious to the fact that if we reveal too much of our inner selves, we are bound to get hurt, criticized, or ridiculed in the process. We tend to hide our true emotions, bury our fears, and internalize some of our feelings, thus censoring ourselves from the outside world. Underneath those heavy layers of self preservation lies the true essence and individuality of each person.
It is through my work that I hope to break through the barriers of secrecy and self doubt that seem inherent within the human social framework. My installation will appear foreign and strange, thus allowing viewers to forget the constraints of society; they are entering a space far different from the everyday world they live in. Composite photographs of hands and faces, trapped within the confines of a light box are analogous to the human struggle of self‐censorship. We want to break free from the norm, but are afraid of the consequences. Dimly lit, with echoes of human voices bouncing off the walls, my installation forces viewers to cast aside their inhibitions and confront the unknown. Walking down the corridor, between two sets of identical, translucent, flowing black curtains, creates an unfamiliar world, a distorted reality. The light boxes pulsate on and off in rhythmic time, while an audio montage plays in the background. Voices describe fears and hopes, providing a glimpse into conversations that appear to be uncensored and true.