The Falling Man Projects
About Jeroen Zwaap
About Jeroen Zwaap
In several projects the artist deals with the impact and implications of having seen Richard Drew's 'Falling Man' image as he tries to answer questions like: why is this picture such a strong resonating one? How did this image shape the view on the American trauma? What are the moral implications of watching a man falling to his death?
"Although I cannot exactly remember what I felt when I saw the image of The Falling Man by Richard Drew for the first time, I can imagine what I felt. I can imagine that I saw the human vulnerability in the most intimate of moments in a human life. The grace of it. The calmness aimed head-down towards the inevitable. I must have seen the juxtaposition between the graceful fall and the horrific timeline that lead to this fall. I think I did not understand the power of photography yet (do I today?), but I must have seen how time had been suspended and created an aura, or maybe even a protective shield, of timelessness around the person.
And although there are no recognizable facial features, I would’ve recognized myself in this person. I would have asked myself: what would I feel, what would I do?
In several projects the artist deals with the impact and implications of having seen Richard Drew's 'Falling Man' image as he tries to answer questions like: why is this picture such a strong resonating one? How did this image shape the view on the American trauma? What are the moral implications of watching a man falling to his death?
"Although I cannot exactly remember what I felt when I saw the image of The Falling Man by Richard Drew for the first time, I can imagine what I felt. I can imagine that I saw the human vulnerability in the most intimate of moments in a human life. The grace of it. The calmness aimed head-down towards the inevitable. I must have seen the juxtaposition between the graceful fall and the horrific timeline that lead to this fall. I think I did not understand the power of photography yet (do I today?), but I must have seen how time had been suspended and created an aura, or maybe even a protective shield, of timelessness around the person.
And although there are no recognizable facial features, I would’ve recognized myself in this person. I would have asked myself: what would I feel, what would I do?
In several projects the artist deals with the impact and implications of having seen Richard Drew's 'Falling Man' image as he tries to answer questions like: why is this picture such a strong resonating one? How did this image shape the view on the American trauma? What are the moral implications of watching a man falling to his death?
"Although I cannot exactly remember what I felt when I saw the image of The Falling Man by Richard Drew for the first time, I can imagine what I felt. I can imagine that I saw the human vulnerability in the most intimate of moments in a human life. The grace of it. The calmness aimed head-down towards the inevitable. I must have seen the juxtaposition between the graceful fall and the horrific timeline that lead to this fall. I think I did not understand the power of photography yet (do I today?), but I must have seen how time had been suspended and created an aura, or maybe even a protective shield, of timelessness around the person.
And although there are no recognizable facial features, I would’ve recognized myself in this person. I would have asked myself: what would I feel, what would I do?
In several projects the artist deals with the impact and implications of having seen Richard Drew's 'Falling Man' image as he tries to answer questions like: why is this picture such a strong resonating one? How did this image shape the view on the American trauma? What are the moral implications of watching a man falling to his death?
"Although I cannot exactly remember what I felt when I saw the image of The Falling Man by Richard Drew for the first time, I can imagine what I felt. I can imagine that I saw the human vulnerability in the most intimate of moments in a human life. The grace of it. The calmness aimed head-down towards the inevitable. I must have seen the juxtaposition between the graceful fall and the horrific timeline that lead to this fall. I think I did not understand the power of photography yet (do I today?), but I must have seen how time had been suspended and created an aura, or maybe even a protective shield, of timelessness around the person.
And although there are no recognizable facial features, I would’ve recognized myself in this person. I would have asked myself: what would I feel, what would I do?
In several projects the artist deals with the impact and implications of having seen Richard Drew's 'Falling Man' image as he tries to answer questions like: why is this picture such a strong resonating one? How did this image shape the view on the American trauma? What are the moral implications of watching a man falling to his death?
"Although I cannot exactly remember what I felt when I saw the image of The Falling Man by Richard Drew for the first time, I can imagine what I felt. I can imagine that I saw the human vulnerability in the most intimate of moments in a human life. The grace of it. The calmness aimed head-down towards the inevitable. I must have seen the juxtaposition between the graceful fall and the horrific timeline that lead to this fall. I think I did not understand the power of photography yet (do I today?), but I must have seen how time had been suspended and created an aura, or maybe even a protective shield, of timelessness around the person.
And although there are no recognizable facial features, I would’ve recognized myself in this person. I would have asked myself: what would I feel, what would I do?
In several projects the artist deals with the impact and implications of having seen Richard Drew's 'Falling Man' image as he tries to answer questions like: why is this picture such a strong resonating one? How did this image shape the view on the American trauma? What are the moral implications of watching a man falling to his death?
"Although I cannot exactly remember what I felt when I saw the image of The Falling Man by Richard Drew for the first time, I can imagine what I felt. I can imagine that I saw the human vulnerability in the most intimate of moments in a human life. The grace of it. The calmness aimed head-down towards the inevitable. I must have seen the juxtaposition between the graceful fall and the horrific timeline that lead to this fall. I think I did not understand the power of photography yet (do I today?), but I must have seen how time had been suspended and created an aura, or maybe even a protective shield, of timelessness around the person.
And although there are no recognizable facial features, I would’ve recognized myself in this person. I would have asked myself: what would I feel, what would I do?
The Sensorium
An encounter with an environment that senses, responds, and unfolds.
Soundscape design: Parvin Diyanati Installation construction: Rommert Schrijvers Location: Royal Academy of Art (The Hague) Type: Spatial Audiovisual Installation Materials (2mx2mx2m): Wood, glass, plants, soil, and water Hardware: iPhone (camera), laptop, four speakers Software: Custom code in Processing Techniques Real-time light analysis, photographic transduction, and sonification Technical Setup: An iPhone is placed inside the terrarium, connected to a laptop that is hidden beneath it. The laptop processes the camera images into a soundscape, which is played through four speakers.
What does it mean to listen to light? To hear the subtle movements of an environment?
To enter a space where the world around us becomes perceptible in unfamiliar ways?
The Sensorium (2025) is an immersive installation that invites visitors to experience the environment through a different sensory language.
At its centre is a living terrarium. Sunlight passes through glass, moisture gathers on its surfaces, and plants contribute to the changing atmosphere within. These subtle processes continuously shape the light that moves through the space.
A camera observes these transformations. Through a process called transduction, the captured light is translated into sound. Changes in brightness, colour, and movement become an evolving soundscape, shaped by the environment itself.
This soundscape fills an adjoining wooden structure, creating an intimate space for listening. Here, visitors are surrounded by sounds that emerge from processes taking place just beyond their immediate perception.
What they hear is neither a recording of nature nor a musical composition in the conventional sense. It is a continuous expression of an environment in transformation, mediated by technology.
As light changes, so does the sound. As the environment evolves, so does the experience.
The Sensorium brings together living organisms, environmental processes, technological systems, and human perception. Rather than presenting nature as something to be observed from a distance, it creates an encounter in which these different presences become entangled.
The installation invites us to consider perception not simply as something we do to the world, but as something that emerges through our relationships with it.
A space to listen, to linger, and to become attentive to what usually escapes our senses.
What if experiencing an environment also means becoming part of its unfolding?
