This installation is the most politically charged. A series of 20 infrared cameras track your eye movements. As you look at a painting of a historical figure (politicians, CEOs, religious icons), an AI voice whispers contradictory facts into a bone-conduction headset provided at entry. If you stare too long at a figure’s face, the portrait’s eyes turn to serpent slits, and the canvas weeps a black, oily substance that is actually magnetorheological fluid—it moves when you move.
The serpent has persisted across cultures as an ambivalent symbol: life force (kundalini), wisdom and rebirth (Ouroboros), poison and predator. In a moment shaped by ecological crisis, political upheaval, and renewed attention to embodied identities, the serpent’s liminality—between human and animal, sacred and profane—offers fertile ground for artists to interrogate cycles of consumption, regeneration, transgression, and hidden power. symphony of the serpent gallery new
"Symphony of the Serpent" reframes this universal figure through contemporary materials and modes: bio-resin skins, reflective vinyl, LED-lit scales, field recordings, and participatory durational pieces. The show asks viewers to confront discomfort and desire simultaneously, to move from voyeurism into ethical witnessing. This installation is the most politically charged
“In the symphony of the serpent, there is no conductor. There is only the rhythm of the ground, the slide of the belly, and the sudden stop of the heart. We are not looking at the snake. We are listening through it.” — Mira Chen, Lead Artist “In the symphony of the serpent, there is no conductor