Counting

2010, video installation, color, sound, loop

"One, two, three, four, five, six..." The sound of a young boy continuously counting emanates from a corner of the exhibition space. Accompanying this sound is a screen positioned close to the ground, displaying a pile of ping pong balls whose quantity changes in rhythm with the counting voice—sometimes increasing, sometimes decreasing, in a repeating loop. The rhythm of the counting sound and the changes in the quantity of ping pong balls are synchronized, creating, at first glance, the appearance of a correspondence between the object (quantity) and the number (sound). However, the ball count does not always match the number; what the viewer sees does not always equal what they hear. Did the little boy miscount? Or is the visual representation inaccurate? And must "error" always be the opposite of "correct"?

How do we understand the relationship between language and things? Can reality, in its constant flux, be grasped through quantification? The work originated from the idea of "counting the ping pong balls in the corner"; the sequences of numbers and ball counts follow specific organizational rules, containing divergences that seem accidental but are in fact inevitable. None of the "errors" within this structure are random or accidental; rather, they are the result of the sound (the number sequence) and the image (the ball count sequence) each operating according to its own rules. The logic of this order is precisely embodied in its discontinuity: the two sequences sometimes coincide and sometimes diverge, forming a structural misalignment within the cyclical changes.

In the work, the "language of counting" does not always accurately correspond to the "reality of objects," revealing a gap between "expression" and "representation." The correspondence between the counting sound and the change in quantity unfolds like a dialogue, simulating the attempt to precisely capture and understand things; the emergence of "error," much like its counterpart "correctness," appears precise and commonplace—merely one facet of the counting (or dialogue) process. This work attempts, through patterned errors, to reveal the alternating states of convergence and divergence between speech and things. It invites viewers to loosen the preset assumption that cognition and reality must align, and to listen to the uncertain relationship between language and reality.