Elevator

An artificial wood-paneled box large enough for eight people has buttons on the outside and inside. People press buttons, enter the box, press buttons wait, and then exit.

The box treats time and space in distinct, linear chunks that follow. Procedure. Exactly. The only way this box can travel is in numbered moments, units of natural numbers, in sequence, up or down, in any order – for example, 1*2*3*4*5*4*3*2*1, or 3*4*3*2*2*3*4*3*4, or any other combination of continuous up or down movements. The box cannot skip numbers. The box compartmentalizes the experience of time like graph paper.

Perspective of observer

The most astounding accomplishment of the box is that the experience of the box is completely different depending on whether the observer is inside or outside. From the perspective of an omniscient person outside the box, observing with a grand, building-size view, the person in the box emerge at a different time relocated in space either directly above or below where they once were. Human experiences take place on top of one another.

From the perspective of the persons inside the box, they stand and wait. The repetitive motions of enter and exit occur; everything is empty and sterile and a bit awkward. A person with a standard-size view waiting outside the box sees doors open and close, and people enter or exit based on random factors – choice, forgetfulness, interest or disinterest.

The population in the box increases or decreases in a random way. Individuals appear and disappear, unrelated to one another. There may or may not be someone else in the box at the same time; sometimes, there is no one in the box, and then suddenly many appear.

The momentary opening of doors

The most poignant experience of the box occurs when a door opens and closes, giving both those inside and outside of the box a glimpse of the other: an image or a bit of talking. Although these images are seen through frame of the doors, observers see life in these moments of clarity, where things are clear and known.

The limits of the box

Unlike the box, humans can move horizontally. Humans are not restricted to moving in whole units. A human can take a large step, or a small one, while the box can only progress in units the size of itself.

The box provides a procedure, a process to reach an outcome. But the box is limiting. Its system has three rules: get on, go to a different place, get off. Can you make the box break the rules – move horizontally, or sideways, or skip floors ... ?

Rebecca Evanhoe

Rebecca Evanhoe is a native Kansan and University of Kansas undergraduate studying chemistry, journalism and experimental fiction. Elevator was originally was written for an English class assignment to explore connections between visual art and literature. Now an installation piece, Elevator examines perspective and human experience.