For birdwatchers, in order to capture and record images and information about the flock, it is crucial to keep distant proximity. This precise distance—not too far, not too close—ultimately results in an ambiguous relationship between the observer and the observed. Through the equipment's magnification, the process of prying into the unnoticeable presents a curious sense of contest and confrontation, revealing hidden secrets and details that are deeply fascinating and enthralling.




In Yang Dingliu's ongoing video series Bird, the control of "viewing distance" is reflected in the complex interaction and intertextuality between the lens and the screens, presenting an observational experiment delving into the concept of gaze. Inviting a total of six models to collaborate, Yang asks them to sit in front of a computer and browse whatever they want while she records their facial expressions from afar. In her studio, she laid out the lighting and camera to capture close-ups that reveal the content of the screen in the reflection of the models' eyes.



In the exhibition, presented on large-format televisions, the enlarged details are captivating and invite the viewers for closer inspection, as if an increasingly intensified game of peeping. In the viewing process, the depicted body is alienated and subtly transformed into a special equipment of display, which plays back the information on the screen in front of them in the reflection of the eyes, forming an interesting relationship between images and imagery that are constantly evolving and generate complex connections. For Yang, the medium of videography enables her to reveal, conserve, and scrutinize unseen details. With a way of being a distant observer, Yang quietly and cleverly choreographs our ways of looking in the exhibition.