The Brooklyn Rail

Under sterile fluorescent lighting reminiscent of laboratories or clinics, severed mannequin limbs and plastic torsos lie sprawled across tables, surgically fused with wheels, exposed circuit boards, and tangled wires, creating enigmatic hybrid vehicles. Geumhyung Jeong’s installation evokes an atmosphere at once industrial and macabre, where Frankensteinian robotic forms linger ambiguously between creation and abandonment, inert yet hinting at imminent activation. Jeong’s exhibition Toys, Selected features prototypes continuously refined from their initial unveiling in 2019 through 2022, deliberately positioning these DIY robots within an uneasy liminal space between human and machine. The installation urges viewers toward critical reflection on the intricate mechanisms of control embedded within human relationships with technology.

Central to the exhibition are not merely the robotic sculptures but also the meticulous, labor-intensive processes behind their creation—acts of collecting, arranging, and assembling fragmented components. Jeong gathers motors, mannequin parts, and medical dummies; each object bears its own history of previous utility, neglect, or obsolescence. Her deliberate selections resonate with ideas of reuse and the potential for renewal. Employing self-taught robotics techniques, Jeong transforms these technological remnants into fragile anthropomorphic assemblages that simultaneously evoke mechanical vehicles. Through this holistic approach, she vividly articulates dimensions of control, both overt, as with steering RC cars via joysticks, and subtle, suggesting deeper, fundamental interdependencies between humans and their technological counterparts.

Jeong’s installation functions as a meticulous taxonomy, granting visibility and renewed significance to objects typically hidden or discarded, revealing the underlying structures of technological control. Within capitalism’s accelerating cycles of planned obsolescence, technological devices commonly function as inscrutable “black boxes,” deliberately concealing internal workings and predetermined lifespans. As mechanical systems become increasingly opaque, malfunction necessitates replacement rather than repair. Contrasting sharply with state-of-the-art, sleek humanoids, Jeong’s anthropomorphic robots openly display their internal parts as if exhibiting organs. This confrontation of pervasive disposability emphasizes shared vulnerabilities and interdependencies between humans and machines.

These dynamics become especially apparent in Jeong’s performances and accompanying video documentation, in which she meticulously undertakes acts of maintenance and repair. Her videos depict slow, methodical assembly processes: carefully adjusting delicate connections and patiently coaxing hesitant movements from her creations. Wheels typically suggest smooth, seamless mobility, yet Jeong’s robots defy these expectations, frequently faltering, staggering, and moving awkwardly. Initially inspired by Jeong’s physical gestures, the robots’ movements transcend mere human mimicry, venturing into realms uniquely robotic and distinctly autonomous.

Crucially, Jeong’s attention to the intersection of mechanical axes extends beyond simple movement, exploring deeper complexities of agency and pleasure. Although she ostensibly commands the robots, they do not submit passively; their responses compel continuous modifications of circuits and connections, effectively blurring distinctions of dominance and control. Notably, the performance highlights an often-overlooked dimension of sensual and sexualized control inherent in human-robot and robot-robot interactions. Jeong’s manipulation of overtly nipple-like joysticks and industrial Mecanum wheels evocative of tongues foregrounds the erotic dimensions of control, suggesting mutual stimulation and pleasure that transcend conventional hierarchies. Complementing these narratives, the exhibition’s stark illumination and operating theater-like arrangements disrupt conventional comfort zones, further intensifying the viewers’ experience of intimacy and unease.

Walter Benjamin once described the ragpicker as a figure quietly traversing urban spaces, carefully gathering discarded fragments to invest overlooked objects with renewed meaning. Updating this figure for today’s techno-capitalist context, Jeong collects technological debris and prosthetic remnants, navigating invisible networks of consumption and obsolescence. Thus, Toys, Selected transcends mere physical activation, inviting deeper contemplation of human roles, like caretaker, surgeon, or companion, within technological relationships. Particularly provocative is Jeong’s decision to label her robots as “toys,” underscoring an essential distinction: their development prioritizes continuous, exploratory play over teleological perfection. By situating herself and viewers uncomfortably, yet compellingly, between the roles of controller and caregiver, Jeong directly challenges prevailing assumptions about human dominance and technological subservience. At a moment when caregiving itself is increasingly mechanized, automated, or outsourced, her practice brings critical attention to the often-neglected ethical and emotional dimensions inherent in human-technology interactions.