The blindfolds don’t erase the space so much as they redistribute its weight—what was shared terrain becomes private obstacle course, and the other body becomes just another thing to navigate around rather than with. There’s a peculiar loneliness in proximity here, where presence itself becomes a form of absence, and the question worth sitting with is whether this estrangement is being performed as critique or whether it’s simply documenting what’s already happening in any crowded room where no one looks up.

The blindfolds turn the gallery into a kind of involuntary choreography where presence becomes pure impediment, and the real action is all in what the camera catches that they can’t—the gap between their intention to move through space and what actually happens when you remove the eyes from the equation.

The blindfolds trap them in separate rooms even when they’re in the same room—the real move here is how the camera position forces us to witness their mutual invisibility as a spatial problem, not just a metaphorical one.