Video, sound
4'33"
Music by DESTINATIØN UNKNOWN

Thousands of emails arrive with the same opening line: I hope you are well. This politely conventional phrase projects itself into an uncertain future—into the moment, place, and frame of mind in which the recipient will finally read it. We rarely know whether they truly are well, nor do we always care; yet we still extend the hope. What, after all, does “well” even mean?

I. Hope. You. Are. Well.

News headlines and unfolding events generate a constant undercurrent of tension, as though something decisive might occur at any second. We exist in suspense, pulled back and forth by forces that test but do not quite break us. Relationships, too, can draw taut every nerve and hold us on the brink.

In the video work, a knife softly touches a fishing line — teasing it, indifferent to the risk. Each pass could be the final one: one careless movement might sever the line, or a series of small incisions could eventually cause it to break under its own strain. This constant uncertainty reflects the mental theatre in which we imagine endless scenarios, each shaped by the actions of billions of others. A decade from now, what will confront us?

And still, the question persists: how are you? I hope you are well. I truly do.