這棟由六〇年代台電搶修中心改造而成的藝廊，我們保留它的骨、換了它的語言。焊接鋁格立面、21 度的軸線偏轉，極簡並非空無一物，而是讓建築安靜下來，把舞台讓給作品。空間是一張畫布，建築以背景姿態出現。

- This 1960s Taipower emergency repair center was reframed into an exhibition gallery. We kept its bones and changed its language — an aluminum-grid facade, a 21-degree axial pivot, and a minimalism that lowers its voice so the work can speak. The space is a canvas; the building offers itself as a background for art.

這棟六零年代遺留下來的房子，前身是台電的搶修中心 — 那個時代它是進步的象徵：貨櫃車專用的抬高地板、鋼筋混凝土構造、表面仿造磚造時期尺寸的二丁掛。我們保留它的骨，換了它的語言。 展覽空間之於藝術家，如同畫布之於顏料 — 它應該是背景，是包容的語彙。於是我們找尋中性的材料：不屬於男性的，也不屬於女性的，不搶眼，也不隱藏。我們選擇反射性較低的鋁料，焊接成最原始的方格狀。 入口 — 就是那道微微轉折 21 度的軸線。

The original structure is a 1960s Taipower emergency-repair centre — once a local symbol of progress: raised floors for container trucks, a reinforced-concrete skeleton, and a "two-Ding" tile facade mimicking the masonry proportions of an earlier era. We kept its bones. We changed its language. To an artist, the exhibition space is what the canvas is to paint — it must be a background, a language of inclusion. We chose aluminum for its lower reflectivity and welded it into a primordial grid. The entrance is that subtle shift — an axis pivoted 21 degrees.

如果這件藝術品是歡愉的，那空間也該歡愉；如果它是羞赧的，那空間也該羞赧。白牆、白地、黑頂，方柱排列，鋁格光幕游移於後牆——我們把語彙降到最低，讓作品說話。 極簡不是空無。曲牆盡頭有拱門，拱門後有暗室，暗室深處有一抹紅

If the work is exuberant, the space must feel exuberant; if the work is bashful, the space must feel bashful. White walls, white floor, black ceiling, columns in series, and the grid's light drifting along the rear wall — we lowered our own voice so the work could speak. Minimalism is not emptiness. The curved wall arrives at an arch; beyond the arch, a dark room; deep in the dark room, a single red.