Narcissus Looks Back and they love you

Drawing on the aesthetics of queer camp and the concept of hauntology, this immersive installation confronts the loop of identity - repetitive, isolating, and haunted by disconnection. Through distorted video, reflective surfaces, and layered projections, the work invites viewers into a ghostly feedback loop at the center of which a ghost figure dances at the edge of a never-ending party—trapped, ecstatic, and alone. The piece asks, what does it mean to be visible in a world that watches but does not always witness? Enter through the dressing room - CRT TVs flicker with fragmented signals: one reflects the viewer back through a delayed, watery live feed; others pulse with poetic text and haunting visual fragments. Ink-painted plexiglass clouds the viewer’s image in mystery. The checkered dance floor is immersed in a soundscape of remixed and decaying loops of Britney Spear’s Toxic, and the viewer finds themselves encircled by projected ghostly figures that dance and swim through a space that feels both immense and claustrophobic. The setup deliberately denies the viewer their shadow—surrounded by others yet unable to locate themselves, they become both witness and absence. The piece ends on a painting, a window into the possibility of collective dreaming, an invitation to viewers to consider a space where we might live together, with and through strangeness. This piece seeks to create an echo chamber of queer pasts and possible futures — a space for those caught between longing and erasure, visibility and danger, loneliness and love. Together, these environments trace a tension between the desire to be seen and the impulse to disappear—between the joy of performance and the alienation it can carry. This is a meditation on queer temporality, amnesia, and the fragile hope that connection might still disrupt the loop.