My dog chews up an old photograph. The fragments make me anxious, so I decided to stitch the photo back together.
Stitching Photography uses simple materials. The narrator starts a conversation with subtitles, not voice, and sits on a chair with Scotch tape. A dog ripped the photo of someone’s face. Gently tending the ripped area, the narrator confesses ungrounded anxiety from childhood. The spot on the eye was considered “unbearable,” like a stain or defect. Any correction in a daily journal was “wrong” and should be deleted. By attaching the ripped pieces, the narrator says that anxiety is continued by changing its form into impulse and compulsion. When the photograph is almost restored, it is overlapped with video footage that recorded the birth and death of a building. In this world of repeated collapse and reconstruction, what is the significance of the “stitching”? There remain marks of damage and unfilled holes in the photograph. (CHA Hanbi)
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