LÉIRIÚ is an Irish word meaning to reveal, to illustrate, to make something clear. This installation takes that literally: a wall of forty-eight small blocks that watches you back, and assembles an image of you out of squares.
A depth camera reads your presence, and the blocks push forward and back, building a portrait of you in real time, block by block, out of shadow and depth rather than colour or detail. You see shapes before you see detail. The closer you look, the less resolved you become, and that's the point: a handful of moving points is enough for a face to read as a face. As the blocks move, they make a soft mechanical sound, and lights built into the frame shift colour with them, so the portrait can be followed by sight, sound, or touch.
Press the button on the side, and the wall freezes. What was moving becomes something you can run your hand across and actually feel. A Braille label beneath the grid reads: pause to feel your reflection.
There is no correct way to meet it. Watch it from across the room. Wave and see the wall notice you. Walk right up and let it build your face out of shadow. Or stop it, close your eyes, and read yourself with your hands instead. Whichever way you arrive at it, it's still you looking back.