"water closet" stems from a personal curiosity as to how people are in their most private moments – where will their minds choose to wander, how do they feel when not obliged to satisfy a certain expectation that comes along with being in a public space. The next thought naturally follows: does the public toilet cubicle function as a place of refuge, in addition to literally taking our shit? It seems as though time comes to a standstill inside the toilet – there is no audience within the cubicle; we are free to be whoever we want, or are. Arguably, it is inside the cubicle that we are wholly ourselves. The cubicle is then both a sanctuary and a closet for those among us who, for whatever reason, are unable to be physically comfortable with presenting our own identities. Therein also lies the difference: when we leave the cubicle, we are not coming out of the closet. We are moving away, and fitting ourselves into prescribed identities. Who are we when we are least guarded, then? When stripped down to the most basic – relieving ourselves of our bodily waste – who are we?

xiao ting