Time drapes itself in a gauze of light, extending the antennae of vision toward the unknown and whispering between the folds of sight. This is not an exhibition about seeing; rather, it is a gentle inquiry into visibility itself. Only when we learn to wander through the mist between the visible and the invisible may we once again touch the trembling origin of vision—the primal moment of confronting existence before naming or classification, when the world and the self first met in unmediated encounter.

True seeing often requires a degree of defocus. When the contours of things waver in soft light, they approach their most authentic form. The overexposed presences of daily life quietly recede, while those subtle traces that have always dwelled at the edges of perception begin to surface—the intervals between colors, the resonance that lingers after form dissolves, the fleeting in-between that flickers through a shifting gaze. We do not merely see images—we are also seen by them. Vision is never a purely optical act; it is a system, a structured mode of perception, an ideology constantly reshaped within modernity.

From the perspective systems of the Renaissance to the invention of photography and onward to algorithmic imagery today, the history of seeing is, in essence, a history of the relationship between subject and world: Who possesses the power to gaze? Who is placed within the field of visibility? Who becomes the Other within the image? Brunelleschi and Alberti transformed sight into geometric order, allowing humanity, for the first time, to confront the world as its “center.” Everything within the perspective grid was orderly, measurable, and transparent; the viewer enjoyed absolute sovereignty. Yet this sovereignty gradually dissolved in modernity—images came to exist independently of human eyes, and the world was redefined through the lens of machines. Cubism further dismantled the single point of view, revealing simultaneity and fragmentation. From then on, vision ceased to be a direction and became a movement.

With the rise of industrial reproduction and consumer culture, seeing became embedded within social mechanisms. In Andy Warhol’s mass-produced Pop images, the act of looking was diluted, hierarchies of images collapsed, and individual existence became standardized and replaceable. The digital screen, in turn, emerged as a new device of perspective—one that no longer presents the world before us but instead exposes us ceaselessly to the gaze of algorithms. To be seen has become a fundamental condition of daily experience; people live in a posture of self-display, as the boundary between seeing and being seen completely dissolves.

Thus, between the act of looking and being looked at, the individual is continuously reshaped and reproduced. Seeing is no longer merely the beginning of perception but a mode of existence itself—where, between the visible and the invisible, the world and the subject ceaselessly generate one another, and are redefined beyond the reach of the gaze.

Moving through the crevices of vision, the curtain of the world lifts ever so slightly, and what we glimpse is the boundless expanse beyond seeing itself.