ZEROING
A darkened space is illuminated by only a large projection which wholly occupies a single wall. The surface offers a window to what appears to be a virtual mimicry of the space - not a reflection but a continuation. The only difference is an unnervingly still, black smudge which takes the form of a human body, cut at the torso by the edge of the frame. Standing with confident, even oppressive, authority, a heavyset recording apparatus dominates the centre of the space - three splayed legs consolidating its position. Cables protrude from its neck towards the ceiling, spatially establishing a threshold.
I place my body behind the apparatus, facing the projected surface. In this moment I attempt to passively enact both observer and observed. Standing, I walk cross the threshold, pausing briefly before wheeling to confront the apparatus. The apparatus responds by flattening the projected surface to an relentless plane of white - exposing and defining the upright human body. Flesh and muscle soften, succumbing to groundward tug. My body descends violently as the apparatus looks on. With a dull slap the body is rendered an unmoving mass upon the ground - flattened, zeroed and definitively reorganised. Upon the projected surface the virtual space has again opened, displaying a rhythmic oscillation of my falling, then un-falling body; played forward, then in reverse, seamlessly looping between the two states. This imagery is accompanied by an aligned audio recording which permeates the space.
My fallen body continues to lie as its previous configurations loop continuously overhead - appearing first as sadistic mockery, then as trivial time keeping. Slowly, I raise my body to an upright position. Walking past the apparatus, I move towards the back of the space until both my physical and virtual bodies are at equal distances from the threshold. Again, I wheel around, shoulders pulled back, chin up, heels firmly planted, mimicking the apparatus.
“One!”, I command, staring through the apparatus, to the perpetually falling body. The body stutters momentarily, dropping a frame before continuing to loop. Though now, each bodily oscillation is quickened, not quite returning to to an upright position. I move forward.
“One!”, I reassert. The loop compresses further towards the ground, oscillating with even greater urgency. I execute this command repeatedly, each time moving closer to the apparatus until I loom beside it, my shadow superimposed dominantly upon the projection. The oscillating body has been reduced to a rapidly vibrating smudge, hovering just above the ground - the accompanying audio condensed to a constant drone. Inhaling, I bend to level myself with the apparatus.
“One”, I whisper. All bodies are still.
Return.