There’s a peculiar silence to control in the 2020s—it no longer barks orders or slams fists. It feeds you, gently. Chew Before You Obey is a digital sculpture turned media hallucination, looping like a safety video for a system you didn’t know you were already part of.
At its center: a slack-bodied hybrid—half flesh, half fungus—offered up to a disembodied grin. It doesn’t resist. It doesn’t even blink. This thing was born to be eaten. And somewhere in the same room, a performer operates the setup—not as a rebel, but as an insider. They’re not here to stop the loop; they’re here to keep it running.
The work satirizes the aesthetics of modern obedience: seamless visuals, silent submission, and control so efficient you barely notice it happening. It’s not that you’ve been forced to chew. It’s that you never even asked what you’re swallowing.
