After Image is a sculptural meditation on the fugitive nature of the photographic image in the age of digital circulation. Comprising a series of unfixed wooden forms—meticulously extracted and reconstituted from originally digital sources—the installation gestures toward a kind of reverse archaeology, where intangible pixels find weight and texture in the physical world.

These translated objects occupy a liminal space, suspended between material presence and digital ephemerality. They propose a mode of image-making unbound from traditional fixity, wherein the image is no longer a static representation but a process—transitory, migratory, contingent. As these forms pass from screen to substance, they lose clarity but gain resonance, enacting the slow dissolution of photographic materiality while gesturing toward its continual reanimation.
At the centre of this exploration is the ‘cloud’—a vast, invisible architecture of storage that hovers everywhere and nowhere at once. In contrast to the tactile intimacy of handling a physical print, the cloud’s promise of infinite preservation is also a surrender to perpetual distance. Images are dispersed across remote servers, endlessly replicable, yet stripped of the tangible wear, scent, and weight that once embedded them in lived experience. Memory, too, becomes lighter, more fluid—less an object to be held than a stream to be accessed, altered, and reconfigured at will.

In the installation space, the blue hue enveloping the work recalls both sky and interface, collapsing atmospheric and digital registers into a single field. This colour operates as a connective tissue between the suspended wooden forms and the immaterial expanse of the cloud, evoking a place where fragments drift, are kept in suspension, and—perhaps unexpectedly—find renewal.
Through this interplay of surface, memory, and transformation, After Image invites reflection on what it means for an image to persist in an age when its material anchor has been cut loose. It asks us to consider not only where an image comes from, but where it might go, and how the architectures of its storage—whether in a shoebox of prints or a server farm behind the sky—reshape what we remember, and what we forget.

A live-stream camera within the space folds another layer into this dialogue, capturing and transmitting the shifting presence of the room in real time. In this way, the images inhabit multiple dimensions at once—physical, digital, and temporal—while inviting the viewer into the work itself. As their own likeness is absorbed into the live feed, they are transported into the cloud alongside the wooden memories, becoming both witness and participant in the cycle of translation, preservation, and drift.