Timor Mortis Conturbat Me

2017
Wood, paint, star anise
61 × 61 × 3.8 cm
Edition of 3 + 1 AP
The work takes the form of a fabricated circular metal sewer cover. Constructed from CNC-cut wood and finished with hand-painting and artificial patination, its surface evokes the worn, oxidized appearance of aged bronze. Regular square openings punctuate the surface, closely resembling the functional structure of urban drainage covers. Raised lettering appears along the outer rim and central axis, producing a restrained, utilitarian composition grounded in the visual language of industrial infrastructure.
Scattered loosely across the surface and surrounding area are several pieces of star anise. They are not fixed in place, but rest seemingly at random, introducing a sense of fragility and instability into an otherwise sealed, authoritative object. The scent released by the star anise becomes a crucial sensory component, drawing viewers into a bodily experience that extends beyond vision.
The inscriptions on the cover are written in Latin “TIMOR MORTIS,” “ALTER FATE,” and “CONTURBAT ME” together form the sentence Timor Mortis Conturbat Me—“The fear of death disturbs me.” The phrase originates from medieval English and Scottish poetry and was commonly used to describe the inescapable psychological condition of living under plague, war, or religious judgment.
These inscriptions do not derive from any actual municipal sewer cover, but are deliberately embedded by the artist. Mimicking the functional markings of public infrastructure, the language is replaced with declarations of fear, fate, and anxiety, transforming the sewer cover from a neutral civic object into a symbolic vessel for psychological and ideological projection.
The work further references a folk remedy circulated during the medieval Black Death, which advised individuals to sit near open sewers and inhale the “miasma” released by decomposing matter in order to expel internal impurities and ward off disease. Both the form and smell of the work operate as a metaphorical reconstruction of this historical belief.
Shen’s use of star anise is similarly rooted in historical context rather than decoration. In medieval Europe, star anise was widely believed to prevent illness, and its eight-pointed shape was mistakenly associated with prosperity, fertility, and protection. Such symbolic misconceptions led people to entrust their survival to objects, scents, and rituals in the absence of medical knowledge.
Within the work, the sewer cover becomes a central metaphor: simultaneously an entrance to filth and decay, and an imagined passage toward health and salvation. By naming this inconspicuous object in Latin, Shen elevates it into a bearer of belief—despite the fact that what it leads to is uncertainty, darkness, and contamination.
Here, whether the remedy “works” is beside the point. What is revealed instead is how fear of death continuously drives human behavior, allowing any act of belief to function as an outlet for anxiety. Through this restrained yet unsettling installation, Shen transforms historical medical superstition into a contemporary allegory of ideological fixation: when fear is omnipresent, even a sewer may be trusted as a path to redemption.
Sydney Shen