Monument 001 紀念碑001

paper, scaffolding, construction dust mesh/675 × 180 × 80 cm In Taiwan, nearly every county and city holds a monument commemorating the February 28 Incident or the White Terror. Once erected, a monument often appears as though it has completed its task—standing in place as if remembrance itself were finished. But what kind of efficacy do such monuments truly possess? Do they carry substantive meaning, or, once constructed, are they left to weather sun and rain, gradually receding into indifference and forgetting? I reconstruct the monument. I dismantle images photographed from 228 memorials and veil them with the dust-proof mesh commonly found at construction sites. The images hover in a state of partial visibility—seemingly present, yet never fully legible. The collaged sheets, loosely mounted, sway in the wind; misalignments and errors resist correction. The monument no longer asserts solidity or permanence. Instead, it becomes an unfinished structure, perpetually on the verge of collapse—an unstable form that calls into question the presumed finality embedded in the act of commemoration itself.

紙、鷹架、工程防塵網/675x180x80(cm) 在台灣，幾乎每個縣市都存在著228事件或白色恐怖紀念碑，紀念碑的出現與存在是一個矗立後就好像結束了的物件，此種紀念碑的有效性，是具有實質意義，抑或是搭建後就放任其日曬雨淋而漸漸被遺忘？ 我重新搭建紀念碑，將拍攝自 228 紀念碑的影像拆解、並覆蓋建築工地常見的防塵網，使影像處於一種彷彿可見、卻始終無法清晰辨識的狀態。拼貼紙張因浮貼而隨風擺動，錯位與誤差無法被完全修正，使紀念碑不再是穩固、永久的象徵，而是一個尚未完成、隨時可能崩解的結構，進一步質疑紀念完成所隱含的終結性。