I initiated this video work with the intention of treating time not as a theme to be represented, but as an operational condition of the image itself. The screen is divided into three horizontal bands, each displaying the same recorded event, yet separated by precisely determined temporal delays. These delays are not aesthetic inventions but derive directly from the finite speed of light, grounding the work from its outset in a physically motivated experimental framework.
The upper band presents the image as captured by a camera located on Earth. At first glance, this layer could be interpreted as a reference for the present moment. However, as the work developed, it became increasingly clear to me that such an interpretation is fundamentally flawed. The camera does not record the present; it registers the trace of an event that has already occurred by the time it becomes visible. Technical processing, screen refresh rates, and perceptual latency further compound this delay, revealing that what is experienced as “now” is already a constructed and mediated past.
In the middle band, the same footage appears with a delay of approximately 1.3 seconds, corresponding to the time required for light reflected from Earth to reach the Moon. I conceive of this layer as a lunar observer witnessing the terrestrial event. What is critical here is that this delay is neither speculative nor symbolic; it is physically unavoidable. From the lunar perspective, the moment perceived as present by the Earth-based camera no longer exists. This realization directly challenges the intuitive assumption that a single, shared present could be accessible to all observers.
The third band extends this logic further by introducing a delay of approximately 8.3 minutes, modeling an observation from the Sun. From this vantage point, terrestrial events appear as a distinctly past state that may no longer persist in the Earth’s own frame of reference. The implication that the Sun’s “present” could contain a version of Earth that has already ceased to exist locally underscores, for me, the ontological instability of the present as a category.
As these three observational frames are perceived simultaneously, the possibility of privileging any one of them collapses. Each image is generated through the same physical mechanism of light reflection and transmission, and none can claim greater immediacy or truth than the others. The differences between them are purely quantitative, yet sufficient to dismantle the notion of a coherent, unified present.
Throughout the process, I have come to understand that the work does not depict the passage of time but instead makes perceptible the latency inherent in observation itself. The present does not emerge as a temporal point, but as an unstable construct dependent on the observer’s spatial position. In this sense, the video does not illustrate theories of relativity or phenomenological accounts of time; it operationalizes them within the structural logic of the moving image.
Within the context of my practice-based PhD research, I consider this work a practical experiment in which video functions not as a narrative medium, but as a temporal instrument. By embedding scientifically accurate delays into the image structure, the work forces the abandonment of any stable concept of the present. What is commonly experienced as “now” reveals itself as a localized approximation within a broader spacetime system.
This experiment has also clarified for me that the present is neither demonstrable nor capturable, even in principle. There is no image in the work to which the viewer can securely attach the experience of actuality. The present does not dissolve or fade away; rather, it never appears as an autonomous entity. In this sense, the work does not illustrate a proposition but generates a perceptual condition in which the absence of the present becomes directly experiential.
This methodological chapter positions video practice as an experimental instrument for investigating time, treating the present not as a representable moment but as a contingent effect of observation, mediation, and spatial position. By embedding scientifically determined light-travel delays into the structure of the image, the work demonstrates that no observational frame can claim temporal priority, thereby destabilising the notion of a shared or stable “now.” Knowledge is produced through perceptual confrontation rather than illustration, with the artwork functioning as a controlled experiment that renders the non-existence of the present directly experiential.
22/01/2026 - 16/02/2026
During the editing phase of the film, I reconsidered the structural logic of the observational framework. Having already incorporated the perspectives of a lunar observer and a solar observer, I recognized a conceptual asymmetry: the terrestrial viewpoint—implicitly present yet not formally articulated—remained absent as a defined observational position. To establish a coherent triadic schema, I decided to introduce the Earth-based observer into the filmic structure. This intervention unified the observational system and reinforced the work’s cosmological and epistemological framework, positioning the human vantage point within a continuum extending from planetary to stellar scales.
Following the completion of this structural modification, I turned my attention to the work's sonic dimension. The original soundtrack had consisted of a continuous rhythmic sound resembling the striking of a clock, producing a temporally regulated, almost metronomic atmosphere. Upon reflection, this imposed rhythm seemed overly deterministic, too explicitly suggestive of chronological measurement. I therefore replaced it with the original ambient street noise recorded at the site. This substitution reintroduced environmental contingency and acoustic realism, allowing time to manifest as lived duration rather than as mechanical segmentation. The shift from abstract rhythm to environmental sound significantly altered the phenomenological experience of the film, moving it from symbolic temporality toward embodied temporality.
After completing these revisions, I felt compelled to continue experimenting with the material structure of the work. The next step involved compositing the three observational perspectives—the terrestrial, lunar, and solar layers—into a single visual field. I superimposed the three film layers and reduced each to approximately 40% opacity, allowing them to coexist simultaneously within the same temporal frame. This resulted in a stratified visual configuration in which multiple frames of reference intersect and partially dissolve into one another. The overlapping imagery produces a perceptual ambiguity: no single vantage point retains dominance, and spatial orientation becomes relational rather than absolute.
This composite film was then synchronized precisely with the previous, single-layer version. The intention is to present the two synchronized films simultaneously on two separate monitors. The dual-channel installation would emphasize the ontological tension between singular and plural observation, between isolated perspective and layered simultaneity. Due to the current absence of two monitors, I temporarily edited the two versions into a single split-screen film for practical presentation purposes. Nevertheless, the conceptual aim remains the dual-monitor installation, as it more clearly articulates the dialectic between separation and convergence.
The unified version functions effectively as a standalone piece; however, the two-monitor configuration more rigorously embodies the project’s investigation into the instability of the present moment and the coexistence of multiple temporal frames.
single split-screen film
In this development phase, I advanced the project through a dual-projection installation test. One projection presents the stratified observational structure (Earth, Moon, Sun as differentiated temporal frames), while the second projection displays their superimposed composite, with each layer partially transparent and precisely synchronized with the first version. This configuration allows the viewer to encounter both separation and simultaneity at once.
The two-projector setup functions as a practical experiment in relational temporality. No single frame can claim ontological priority; each “present” is already past from another spatial position. By physically distributing the work across two synchronized projections, the instability of the present becomes spatially embodied within the exhibition environment.
Methodologically, this stage confirms the central premise of my research: the present cannot be isolated, fixed, or visually secured. Through calculated delay, layering, synchronization, and spatial separation, the moving image operates as a temporal instrument. The installation does not represent time—it constructs conditions in which the absence of a unified “now” becomes experientially evident.
In this phase of the research, I introduced an additional experimental variable: an atmospheric sound layer derived from a composition by György Ligeti. The purpose of this intervention was to test whether the perceptual instability of the “present”, previously investigated through visual synchronisation and layering, could be further intensified through an acoustic temporal structure.
The visual component of the installation remained unchanged: two synchronised projections presenting differentiated temporal frames (Earth, Moon, Sun) and their superimposed composite. The experiment therefore focused on how the introduction of a continuous sonic atmosphere modifies the viewer’s temporal orientation within the installation.
During testing, the sound layer produced a noticeable perceptual shift. While the visual system of the work still allows the viewer to compare temporal frames across the two projections, the atmospheric music creates a continuous acoustic field without clearly identifiable temporal markers. As a result, the viewer’s attention oscillates between the structured visual synchronisation and the diffuse temporal flow of the sound environment.
One observable outcome of this configuration is that the perception of simultaneity becomes less stable. The two projections remain technically synchronised, yet the auditory environment introduces a sense of temporal drift. The sound does not confirm the moment shown on the screen; instead, it produces a surrounding temporal field that weakens the viewer’s ability to isolate a specific “now”.
This experiment therefore suggests that the integration of an atmospheric sound layer can function as a methodological tool in the investigation of temporal perception. The audiovisual configuration does not simply illustrate the absence of a unified present; rather, it experimentally constructs conditions in which the perceptual identification of a singular moment becomes increasingly difficult.
From a practice-based research perspective, the result indicates that sound can operate as an additional temporal dimension within the installation. The moving image establishes relational temporal frames, while the sonic atmosphere destabilises their perceptual boundaries. Together, these elements transform the work into a more complex temporal system in which the “present” remains continuously unresolved.