"The room", 2021, is an installation that embodies my personal experience with agoraphobia during a period of depression. It reflects the invisible border that separates safety from the outside world — a threshold impossible to cross for some, yet imperceptible to others.
The installation space is delimited by white tape on the floor, referencing Lars von Trier’s Dogville, marking an imagined boundary rather than a physical one. Within this outline, I recreated a sense of comfort inside an otherwise sterile office building: warm light from a lampshade, potted plants, and soft curtains in place of standard blinds.
All furniture — the bed, stool, and table — was handcrafted by me out of wood, reinforcing the personal, domestic nature of the space. Shelves hold jars filled with dry goods. On the wall hang four minimalist paintings from my "6am, 12 am, 6pm, 12 pm" series, evoking fragmented and universal memories of the sea.
A tea glass sits on the table beside open medical encyclopedias turned to pages on agoraphobia. Embroidered into the carpet is the diagnostic code F40.0 — the international classification for this anxiety disorder. And then there is silence.
Who will enter this room?
Who will dare to cross someone else's invisible line?
