Chen Ruofan, Dust, 2025 Sand, gravel, sawdust, sawdust, cotton thread, nylon multi-filament yarn, steel wire, steel plate. Image courtesy of the artist
-Artist's Statement-
While working on a large-scale installation in Wuhan, I had the opportunity to enter a furniture factory on the outskirts of the city. The space felt strangely beautiful yet profoundly uncomfortable: the density of the air, the turbulence created by the operation of the machines, and the sunlight trying to penetrate the dusty glass windows. In the 38°C summer heat—stifling and unventilated—it was hard to imagine how someone could stay focused on high-risk tasks for eight hours straight.
I began collecting fine sawdust and gravel from the factory and started using them as materials to represent chronic issues, which, like dust, slowly infiltrate the environment. When seen from a distance, or in small amounts, these particles are easy to ignore. But once they accumulate, their weight and presence become undeniable.
This body of work continues my broader interest in chronic and invisible forms of vulnerability—whether ecological, physical, or emotional. I’m drawn to conditions that erode gradually, quietly shaping our realities until it’s too late. These problems are scattered through daily life, just as plaque builds in arteries—subtle, unnoticed—, until one day they block the flow completely. My grandmother had a stroke when I was very young. There were no dramatic signs beforehand, only years of silent buildup. I just don’t want (grand)mother Earth to have a stroke, too.
