The Empty Chair (working titled + wip)
I have only given you my body and nature has given me its dream.
An orthogonal chair slowly collapses from rigid lines into oblique planes — one cultural system giving way to the next, one self giving way to another.
During the British Raj, Revolutionaries used cyclostyled sheets and pamphlets for underground communication, folding messages into hidden forms, using handmade papers that could destroy evidence. The collapsing chair mirrors this material rebellion — rigid forms cannot hold, something fluid emerges in their place.
One day an empty chair made itself known. A chair a dear loved one once sat in. Its emptiness created an interface into presence — an invitation into that moment. This collision that takes place within, takes place within all.
How do materials carry revolutionary memory? How does collapse become historical testimony? Can the body — like paper, like a chair, like a cast-iron pipe — become the instrument through which something lost continues to speak?