The other path that Shin presents us with in Acrobat (2021) is one that draws us in from outside the stage. This is not the sort of route we find on a navigation device, which guides us toward our destination based on measurements and calculations. This route is a long way away from recorded data volumes and efficiency. It guides us into a place where years of dust drift, a place that exudes the characteristic damp odors we find underground. In Acrobat, Shin proposes ways of interpreting space through the senses. Both videos are set around intake stations, which were used in the past to store water but are no longer employed today. Dried up and (seemingly) fated to remain unvisited by anyone, they call to mind enormous time capsules that remain sealed past their scheduled opening date, their whereabouts unclear. They also resemble stones that were raised to commemorate something in the past that no one visits anymore. Inside this discontinued intake station is a person – a person who feels, measures, and seeks. There is no defined route. Yet he moves nimbly and constantly, keenly sensing the floors, the walls, and the structure. In the world in which he perceives, the once-solid order of the “named” takes on a flexible quality. In a sense, the staircase is not a staircase to him. Named things are reinterpreted like, length of stride, body width, and grip strength: a tread-board for the feet, and a railing to stop the body from falling. These experiments suggest that with his physically based explorations, Shin Jungkyun sought to open up new structures and paths as he diluted the meaning of each individual element. The Acrobat suggests a more roundabout path to those of us who firmly believe that we are already predicting the path toward tomorrow, or who balance between anxiety and helplessness as we wonder how valid the paths we have established will remain. It also poses a question for us: what should we be latching on to as we proceed toward the future? The bright light of a lamp that whites out whatever clue we’ve managed to find? Or a finger capable of sensing all the roughness and quivering of a surface? Sometimes, the things that we view as the most obviously reliable are the ones that lead us to ambiguous places. It is in this context that Shin Jungkyun reactivates the expired time capsule, entreating us to move along its length, width, and depth – setting today in motion in the process. Most of all, he asks us to be awake in this place where no path to the future can be found.

Vernacular extensions of modernist buildings have been created since the 1990s as an organic response to the new, “lawless” times after the fall of the Soviet Union. They increase the living space and are usually used as terraces, extra rooms, open refrigerators,It is said that a Russian journalist named them “kamikaze,” drawing a parallel between the romantic and suicidal character of such an endeavour and the typical ending of most Georgian family names “-adze.” This architecture also refers back to the local palimpsestic building technique, which since the Middle Ages has allowed new houses to be built on top of existing ones on the steep slopes of the Caucasus Mountains, thus not monumentalisation of the past but expanding on it for the future. Three residence from different flat which have extensions tell their stories, why they decide to build it and how they use this part of house. The facades of all these types of buildings look chaotic, but from the inside they are all ordered.

There was no public space to gather and form a community for the alternative youth, marginalized communities, and those who enjoy arts and crafts. Salaam cinema opened its doors to different communities and started its activity with movie screenings. The space got so much attention from youth and in return, from its owner as well. To a point, the owner claimed to destroy the building which is a historical Molokan worship house and said that he plans to build a mall instead of it. The community around Salaam liked the space so much and slowly it was turning into their “home”. And when someone tried to demolish the community and the “home” they newly brought back to life, young people started to resist keeping the space for its further use. Weeks of resistance happened where at some point people physically fought against the owner and carried out a sitting protest not to leave the space. Eventually, with the support of urban activists and the community, the resistance won and Salaam could survive! Now the space hosts many arts and entertainment events and it is a safe space for different marginalized communities. For many, there is a strong feeling of community around Salaam and since its start, the building has been flourishing and getting bigger!