2014年畢業於香港中文大學建築系。於藝術機構的工作經驗中，沈氏批判性地思考當代藝術機制與系統，反思在其形塑之下的地緣與本土藝術生態，以及當代藝術跟現實的斷裂狀態。

沈氏關注藝術所帶來的感知性經驗，從而讓人們重新理解日常生活的可能性。通過強調記憶、感知與身體經驗的工作方法，她倡議重建個體、社群與社會現實之間的真實聯結。

在跟各領域夥伴合作的過程中，她從研究與項目製作入手，處理空間體驗、邏輯架構與實體檔案。她在實踐中將抽象概念逐步轉化為平易的視覺經驗，並從限制中激發靈感。

SHEN graduated from the Chinese University of Hong Kong in Architectural Studies. Her art institutional working experiences nurture her to scrutinise critically the contemporary art system and mechanism, how they shape regional and local art ecology, and the rupture between art and the reality.

By drawing attention to perceptual experiences that art offers, SHEN explores potentials of re-interpretation of everyday life. Through the methodologies of weaving memory, perception and bodily experience, she aims to substantially reconnect individuals, communities and social reality.

During research and project-making, SHEN collaborates with partners from multi-disciplines, and deals with spatial experience, organisational structure and archival materials. She progressively translates abstract concept into visual and physical experience; seeking inspiration and possibilities in limitation has always been a big part of her practice.

因展覽而生，可被記錄的

曾經構想得儘量完美。然而去歲怎知今年。

他寫道：「海，是由痛苦和身體造成的。^[1]李繼忠，〈通向深海的狹道－第五部：長夜將盡〉，雙頻道錄像作品，2020年。」(The sea was sorrowfully created by human bodies.)

銅像被拆解，只剩一具具空洞的軀殼。

在他的故事裡，這些無法拼湊成女皇像的碎片，縱使在海上顛簸、命途難測時，也無法抵抗自身的欲望，而陷入更深的苦海。有時我們難以分辨，仿佛銅像在某一刻不僅僅映照歷史而已。

為海撰寫故事時，我們亦都漂在海上。

疫症之下，很多事情開始變得無謂。從一個冬天過渡到另一個冬天，我們無數次質疑展覽的有效性，也反復詰問藝術的意義。以前，我們常常計算最佳的展覽時機，為了開幕日而盛裝打扮、呼朋喚友。今日一定不是一個展覽的好時機，但如果說我們此時此刻仍然感到其必要性，是想要用我們唯一擅長的方式來尋找往日裡我們失去的，感受那些我們無暇顧及的、珍惜那些我們習以為常的、看見那些曾不可見的。

當人各有所求，勉強相聚，期待所有預設的概念變為現實時，慾望遮蔽了善念而成為「可見的」唯一，展覽於是也成為那副空洞的軀殼。當我們用盡全力呈現一個看似美麗的景象，卻對其後的人正在經歷的痛苦視而不見時，展覽也未嘗不是一種暴力。當我們設想在船駛向一個預設好終點的旅程中可以重建人與人之間的親密感，並以動聽的文字假以說明，卻不去理會當下正在發生的——那些不能溝通的、不被理解的、失去信任的關係，我們或許可以獲得旁人的讚許，實質上卻正是在助長這種疏離與斷裂。

我們會否被我們摒棄的一切反噬？

曾想要借用「殘響」來形容未來某時，歷史感映照當下，人刹那醒覺。當回音已經彌散時，我們期待「殘響」喚回記憶；但當我們因此而去拼湊殘響時，是否全然忽視了「當下」正是聲音琅琅？如果連此刻也不能被銘記，在我們能夠覺察時也不能好好去擁抱人與人之間聯結的真實可貴，我們談何期許自己能在未來聽見殘響？忽視當下，又何嘗不是更可悲的遺忘，一種更主動的掩藏。

曾多努力去想如何將作品與現實勾連，有時甚至花費了太多力氣。今天我們卻深深感到，是因為每一個人的存在，讓多重時間疊加在這一展示空間之內。我們僅希望構築一個場景，讓每一位來到這裡的您，懷著各自仍然鮮活的記憶與情感，佇立在這個時空裡，嘗試去想像一個更好的此刻。

「醒來已是百年身」。（Once I Wake Up, My Body is Old.）

（2020年11月6日）

The recordable, arising from the exhibition and its making

We tried to formulate as perfect a plan as possible. But last year, we could not have predicted this year.

He wrote: The sea was sorrowfully created by human bodies.^[2]LEE Kai Chung, The Narrow Road to the Deep Sea, Part V: The Remains of the Night, double-channel video, 2020.

The bronze statues were dismantled one by one, leaving behind only empty shells.

In his story, these fragments that no longer can be pieced together to restore the Queen’s statue, are sent on The Relentless Voyage over the sea; their fate is unpredictable and their hope is inexorable, as they fall into an ever deeper sea of sorrow, as if at this particular moment those bronze statues are more than just a reflection of history.

Writing a story about the sea, we also are drifting in that sea.

Under the shadow of the pandemic, many things begin to seem trivial. In the months between last winter and this winter, we questioned the effectiveness of exhibitions a countless number of times, and even questioned the meaning of art itself. In times past, we always carefully considered the most ideal time to stage a show, dressed up in our best outfits for the opening, and invited our friends and acquaintances to attend. But today we are fully aware that this moment is certainly not the most auspicious time to open an exhibition. Yet when we say that we believe in the absolute necessity of presenting this exhibition at precisely this moment, it is because we seek to use the limited methods we are trained in to help recover what we have lost from the past, to help call our attention back to those things we were once too busy to notice, to treasure those things we have taken for granted, and to open our eyes to what we failed to see before.

When people are barely together, bringing their own desires and agendas with them, and anticipating that they will realise their pre-conceived concepts, desire obscures the virtue and an ‘only possibility’ can be seen, hence, the exhibition becomes no more than an empty vessel. Equally, when we spend all our energy to create a seemingly perfect presentation, but turn a blind eye to the hardships and suffering of the real people behind it, then the exhibition itself becomes a form of violence. When we envisage our task to be like that of a ship sailing to some wonderful predetermined destination, during which the trust and intimacy between people can be restored, and we use pleasing words to describe this journey; but at the same time we ignore the reality of what is happening in our world, when communication, understanding and trust between people are being destroyed, then though we might earn praise from some, we are in fact only furthering this process of alienation and fracture.

Will the things we have abandoned come back to haunt us?

We thought about using the term “reverberation” to describe a certain moment in the future when the sense of history illuminates the present and causes people to suddenly experience an awakening. When echoes have dispersed and faded, we expect that their “reverberation” will allow us to recapture their memory; but when we try to piece this reverberation together, aren’t we failing to see that what resounds most clearly is actually this present? If we are unable to engrave even this moment into our memories, and are unable to grasp the true value of the connections between people, even when we can still perceive it, then how can we expect to be able to hear its reverberation in the future? Being inattentive to the present is an even more lamentable kind of forgetting, an even more willful kind of concealment.

We thought long and hard about how to reconnect this work with current reality, and sometimes even overthought it. But we now deeply feel that it is the existence of each person who enters this space that is creating the setting: each brings a layer of experience that becomes superimposed over other layers, to form an experiential multiplicity. Our intention is only to construct a moment in time and space into which each of you can bring your own living memories, and where you can try to imagine a moment better than the present.

Once I Wake Up, My Body is Old.

(6 November 2020)