Chapter No. 13

Procedural Fiction

17 October 2025 — 5 December 2025

This chapter begins with twelve short phrases.

They were not written in one sitting, or with a single voice. Instead, they were collected from past exhibition texts, interviews, and artist’s notes about my work. Bryony Dawson, whom I recently invited to write a text for another project, pulled these lines from various sources and reorganized them into a new composition.

The result felt strangely familiar, as if someone had spoken my thoughts back to me through a different filter. I selected twelve phrases and decided to install them on the wall, simply, quietly. They stand like small scores or prompts—similar in spirit to Oblique Strategies—each open to interpretation, depending on when and how they’re read.

 
 
 
 

The sound component began as a continuation of LOOM’s one-hour playlists. It became a way to give these phrases another layer, another rhythm. Working with Siniz Kim, we talked about how meaning might shift if we translated words into texture and tempo.

Each phrase became a kind of instruction—not to a musician, but to a system that listens differently. What came out were twelve sound pieces: abstract, pattern-driven, sometimes unpredictable, sometimes tender. Each piece is accompanied by its phrase and AI-generated track images that interpret both the audio and the words. They don’t illustrate the phrases, but echo them in another register.

In many ways, this project is about procedures—about letting a process unfold without knowing exactly where it will lead, and how gaps in memory or archives create room for fiction. I think of this chapter as a score written by multiple hands, shaped by conversations and quiet decisions: with Bryony, with Siniz, and also with tools and systems we don’t fully control.

We called it Procedural Fiction. Not to signal an ending, but to leave the structure open.

October 17, 2025
Na Kim

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No. 12