The Tank brings together the remains of obsolete technology with a structure that suggests containment: an aquarium, a vessel, a body. Its broken laptop screens continue to emit light, their damaged surfaces producing colour alongside areas of permanent blackness. Something that has ceased to function in its original form becomes a source of another kind of energy.

The work holds a tension between the controlled and the unruly. The aluminium structure is precise and modular, while the bowed glass, hanging cables and damaged screens introduce fragility, irregularity and the sense of something contained but not entirely under control. It suggests a space in which something might be growing, changing or trying to escape.

Sweetened condensed milk, held in tins beneath the aluminium legs, connects the work to the artist’s experience of Vietnam, but also to the short-lived energy of a sugar rush. It becomes a parallel to the accelerated cycle of electronic consumption: the brief intensity of something new, followed by obsolescence and waste.

Yet the tank does not feel empty or finished. Its damaged surfaces continue to glow, as if whatever caused the rupture has not disappeared but changed state. What remains is not quite alive, not quite dead: a contained afterlife, still producing light.