Ran Chen 陈冉
Keywords: Installation, Interaction, Art therapy
"I Think, Therefore I Am" is an immersive work that combines installation, video, and textiles to explore how emotions are transformed from personal experiences into bodily experiences, ultimately becoming a shared spatial experience. Starting from long-suppressed emotions, the work translates those ineffable feelings into materials, light, colour, and bodily trajectories. Audiences must step inside the work, becoming enveloped by it as they observe, and complete the work through their own presence.
Ran views her artistic practice as a form of emotional translation rather than therapy. The work focuses not on how to eliminate pain, but on how to create a space where emotions that cannot be expressed in words can be perceived and linger. When viewers enter the installation, they are both observers and part of the work.
I cried.
I’m crying, I’ve cried again, and I’ll keep crying, crying endlessly.
Why?
I asked Mom and Dad, and they said I was overthinking things;
I asked the geese resting on the grass, but they ignored me;
I asked the moon, but unfortunately, sound doesn’t travel in a vaccine. But I did notice that it always shows nothing about my hometown.
I desperately want to know the answer, but I’ll never see the truth.
I asked the red thread in my hand, but it just slowly unravelled, turning into a tangled mess.
Why?
A thousand threads, endless and boundless.
The more I tried to untangle it, the more tangled it became. I screamed, hoping it would obey me:
Hurry up, become neat again; Hurry up, return to your original state.
The red thread doesn’t speak human language; it only turned into a bunch of knots because of my actions.
Why!
I think this is the answer.
我哭了。
我在哭，又哭了，还会哭，一直哭。
为什么？
我问爸爸妈妈，他们说我想太多了；
我问草地上的大鹅，他们没理我；
我问月亮，可惜真空不传播声音，倒是我却发现同样的月亮，却照不出来我家乡的样子。
我迫切的想要知道答案，但是永远看不到真相。
我问手里的红线，它只不过慢慢散开，变成一团乱麻。
为什么？
千丝万缕，无穷无尽。
越理越乱，我嘶吼着希望它能听话一点：
快啊，变成干净的样子；快啊，恢复成原本的状态。
红线不会讲人话，只因为我的动作变成一群死结。
为什么！
我想这就是答案。
The installation is immersed in red. Red threads spread across the walls and floor, weaving through the space and connecting its different elements. The environment remains open, inviting visitors to enter freely and experience it in their own way. There is no fixed route, no correct position, and no expected behaviour.
Ran deliberately avoids assigning a single meaning to either the colour red or the threads. Growing up in China, red has always carried contradictory associations: it signifies celebration, happiness, love, passion, and good fortune, yet it also recalls blood, danger, violence, and the demonic. The threads are equally ambiguous. They may suggest human connection and invisible relationships, but they can also become restraints, puppet strings, or even instruments of harm. Rather than offering definitions, the installation leaves these symbols open to interpretation, allowing each visitor to project their own memories and emotions onto the space.
Every element within the installation contributes to a shared atmosphere. The moving image, objects, sound, text, and the presence of the audience are inseparable. As visitors enter the red environment, they are no longer simply observing the work—they become part of it, completing the installation through their own presence and experience.
