The inaugural exhibition Weaving Sound: Echoes in the Absence is jointly presented by artist Lin Tianmiao and Susan Philipsz. Working respectively with thread and sound as primary media, the two artists respond to absence and silence within space—materializing invisible presences and evoking intimate memories through sensory engagement.
The exhibition begins with fiber and sound as its points of departure, laying out a set of layered, intersecting, and continuously unfolding perceptual structures between material and sensation. As the viewer steps into the space, it does not unfold along a linear trajectory. Rather, it resembles a field of threads and sonic vibrations in constant formation, where the visual and auditory coexist, where spatial paths intertwine with emotional rhythms, and where the experience of perception gradually takes shape.

Lin Tianmiao’s Protruding Patterns embeds words associated with women—drawn from multiple languages—into a wool carpet through weaving. The viewer’s body is drawn into a subtle choreography of reading, treading, and evasion. Here, language is not presented as semantic units, but as remnants or echoes entangled among threads. Her Crystal Block shifts toward a state of suspension: partial bodies, tools, and abstracted forms become visual fragments encased in transparent blocks, where the tension between time and material reveals itself in silence.

Susan Philipsz’s works construct spatial experience along the trajectory of sound. Seven Tears generates a sonic structure through the contact of fingers, water, and glass cups, breaking melody into seven repeating yet non-identical tonal fragments. These tones cycle continuously throughout the space—not as linear music, but as an auditory environment shaped by frequency, rhythm, and echo. In Sound Mirrors, sonic paths are reoriented, Hearing is no longer a passive act of reception, but one of guidance, circling, and concentration, forming a variable-density field of acoustic focus.

Deeper within the exhibition, Lin Tianmiao’s Marble Sculptures and Susan Philipsz’s Broken Ensemble engage in a cross-media counterpoint. The former sculpts everyday objects from Han white marble, inducing a rupture between form and function; the latter calls forth a deeper listening through fragmented organ recordings that resonate with the memory of war. This juxtaposition does not seek resolution, but brings “absence” into view—not only as a thematic gesture, but as a threshold to seeing: histories left unspoken, names never uttered, here rewoven through fiber and sound.

Ultimately, the act of walking becomes part of the work itself. Moving through cascades of suspended threads and ephemeral sonic fields, the viewer drifts between unwritten chapters, sensing experiences that remain unarticulated. As the exhibition title Weaving Sound suggests, the intention is not to thread sound into space, but to weave space itself into sound.