Exterior
I enter a space, historically and culturally defined as a place for art, a space designated for objects and a minimum of physical interaction. I am confronted with information, language about freedom, citizenship, safety, to my right is a screen illuminated with a landscape slowly panning and transitioning from one landscape to another, all similar but unique in their own way. There are no structures, no people, no movement except for the slow pan. I step in front of the screen to get a better view and realize I am now within the projection, my silhouette is now standing within the pan, the closer I come to the screen the more immersed I become. I notice a high-pitched chattering sound, insects maybe, but slightly grating and disconcerting. Further to the right mounted on the wall is a slip of paper, a poem, below a curved tray filled with rice at waist level. I want to touch the rice but am not sure if I am allowed. Then I notice something hidden underneath the multitude of grains and decide to run my fingers through. Buried within are photographs, a man in a uniform with his family, an identification card, all marked with the words "Now I know". Further down the wall, right next to the screen there is a notice, directions to "All those of Japanese Ancestry". By approaching this poster I have been led to an entry, a space that leads behind the screen where a dim light glows and I step through.