Huginn C.
陳智彦

"I live in an age of ghosts. These are not supernatural spirits, but the ubiquitous electromagnetic waves birthed by modern technological civilization. They penetrate walls and bodies, forming the underlying texture of our environment, yet remain entirely beyond the natural sensory range of Homo sapiens. In such a state, how are we to perceive and coexist with them?"

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I. Artistic Statement: Calibrating a Lost Perception

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The starting point for Ridden States is an internal response to the "emotional numbness" and "sensory deprivation" of modern life. In a daily existence where our neuro-pathways are perpetually washed by a deluge of information, I feel my own ability to perceive subtle environmental nuances gradually being shielded. Therefore, I attempt to use an energy that is both invisible and ever-present—electromagnetic waves—as a creative medium to re-stimulate those dormant senses and to "calibrate" our increasingly unfocused attention.

 

This work does not scientifically measure electromagnetic waves, but rather gives form to this invisible, all-pervading energy by creating a layered audio-visual system. It constructs a sensory path that guides the audience from unconscious immersion to conscious experience, thereby questioning the boundaries, deficiencies, and potential for reshaping the modern sensorium. Within the boundary field, we can perceive a reality that is "ridden" with invisible energy. The three devices, before the exhibition opens and after the audience leaves, continue to silently listen to the undercurrents of the space. They are the technological totems I have constructed for this site.

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II. Ritual Space & Layered Interaction

 

1. Constructing the Altar's Boundary Field (Gekai)

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This work constructs a "technological altar" in the space, one that is both ritualistic and alive. Three totem-like devices stand in the dim light, their core comprising a highly sensitive sound circuit made of three handmade sensory devices and three amplifiers. The central device emits the light of a cross, interconnected by red cables, collectively demarcating a sacred and untouchable field I call a "gekai."

 

2. The Resonant Chamber of Interaction

 

I see the city as a giant resonant chamber, and modern individuals as unwitting tuning forks. Each visitor, a vessel of modernity, carries electronic devices that constantly emit a unique "Electronic Aura." When people step into the gekai, their bodies and phones naturally disturb this sensitive circuit, thereby altering the sound they hear.

 

Unconscious Presence:

When an audience member is merely "present" in the space, their EMF is captured by the more sensitive coils on the sides and integrated into the overall ambient soundscape.

 

Conscious Approach:

When a viewer is drawn to the central luminous device and consciously approaches it, their "Electronic Aura" engages in a more direct dialogue, triggering more significant audio-visual changes.

 

To make the sound more dynamic, the system switches between different EQ settings, a process visualized in real-time on a small monitor.

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III. The System Loop: A Breathing, Site-Sensitive Organism

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At the work's core is a custom sound-reactive system programmed in Pure Data (Pd), designed as a living entity that "breathes," self-preserves, and is acutely sensitive to its environment.

 

A Breathing System:

Its sonic logic is not simple amplification but a dynamic equilibrium. When a signal becomes too strong, the system recedes like a living thing (linear attenuation); when the stimulus weakens, it expands again. It is forever seeking a fragile balance, refusing to be overwhelmed by external energy.

 

Complete Site-Specificity:

The most exciting aspect of this work is that it sounds unique in every location, as each space has its own distinct electromagnetic environment. For instance, when I tested it on a city rooftop, it unexpectedly turned into a "radio," as powerful local broadcast signals completely overpowered the more subtle energy fluctuations in the space. This characteristic leaves me with an endless curiosity for the work's future: If one day I were to install it in the absolute stillness of a forest, what would it "hear"?

 

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IV. The Artist as Attuner: Setup as Ritual

 

Precisely because this system is designed as a sensitive, autonomous, and self-balancing organism, the act of "installing the work" transcends mere technical setup and is elevated into a ritualistic "attunement."

 

My role is not just that of the creator, but more akin to a "shaman" or a "tuner." In each new space, I must physically intervene—moving, touching, and adjusting the position and parameters of each totem. This process is a corporeal practice of probing an unmeasurable energy field, of searching for its "boundaries" and "nodes." I must repeatedly listen to the system's breath within the space—where does it feel compressed? where is it over-extended?—and attempt to find the perfect pitch at which it can resonate in harmony with this invisible world.

 

The final red ropes, demarcating the boundary, serve as a sacred line for the audience, but also as a protective declaration for this newly "awakened" entity, allowing it to listen without being thrown off balance. Therefore, each exhibition is not the work's final state or a simple replication, but a unique, unrepeatable slice of this ritual of attunement.