A cluster of drip-stands stored haphazardly and temporarily along the wall of a corridor in an NHS hospital in London

Result #1

A cluster of drip-stands stored haphazardly and temporarily along the wall of a corridor in an NHS hospital in London. Elsewhere, a portable toilet was left outside on a street in Buenos Aires, its outside facing a string of open windows. Elsewhere, a cardboard box was hung on the wall of an empty room in a department store in Florence, Italy, while a live-feed video showed the back of a young boy as he made his way to the door of a shop, only to be stopped mid-step as if he were about to enter a vast storehouse of merchandise. The video is projected on a wall covered with a tarpaulin, another seemingly random element in the exhibition, but one that made for a truly puzzling installation. The tarpaulin, which is made of a single-use, cloth-and-wire mesh that is either used as a tarp or a curtain, became a kind of frame, the equivalent of a window or door. The same kind of frame was used to cover the video, but here the frame became a window on the video. This way, the video became an object, a construction, a construction that only opens up to the spectator, and a construction that only reveals itself to the viewer. In this way, the video became a frame, a construction that only reveals itself to the spectator, and a frame that only reveals itself to the spectator. The result was a sort of metonymic device, a gesture of recognition, a gesture of inclusion, a gesture of inclusion that is always partial.The work of both these artists was frequently interrupted by the presence of the audience. In the installation Herm, 2007, a pair of old black boots, each with a cast of the foot, hung on the wall. This boot-on-a-boot motif continued throughout the show, particularly in the video installation Red-Foot, 2008, which was shown on a monitor hanging on the walls.

Result #2

A cluster of drip-stands stored haphazardly and temporarily along the wall of a corridor in an NHS hospital in London, which was covered with a sheet of newspaper and a newspaper-like image of a leafy plant. The work, Untitled (Chrysanthemums), 2010, is a collection of miniature flowerpots in the shape of a heart, their tiny holes exposed through which one could view a shadow of a womans face. The piece, which was composed of a series of three tiny pots and a small sheet of paper glued to a table, was titled The Wound, 2010. A third piece, Pity, 2010, was a small gold-leafed table with a pile of paper flowers. The pile of paper flowers, in the shape of a heart, was covered with a sheet of newspaper, also in gold leaf. The paper was attached to the bottom of the pile, so that the pile of paper flowers became a sort of third human body, also covered with gold leaf. The gold-leafed table, which was also covered with a sheet of newspaper, was covered with paper flowers and was titled The Wound, 2010, the title of the piece. In the work A Head of Bredness, 2009, a gold-leafed table, its surface stained with a reddish-brown powder, was placed on top of a paper-covered table, which was covered with a black powder. The powder was a kind of black goo, and, at the same time, a remnant of the black powder that covered the table. The residue of the black powder, which seemed to be the residue of some apocalyptic battle, had been removed, leaving only the table, which was covered with a gray dust. The dust was the residue of a broken table, and it looked as if it had accumulated on the table as if in a kind of residue of a forgotten war. The dust was the residue of a broken table, and it looked as if it had accumulated on the table as if in a kind of residue of a forgotten war.

Result #3

A cluster of drip-stands stored haphazardly and temporarily along the wall of a corridor in an NHS hospital in London, a suite of hastily scribbled-on-paper maps, and a map of the city, a slightly mangled landscape, a bizarre, cartoonish image of a woman standing for the camera, a red-haired tourist, a sign reading PE, and a string of words, a capital letter, a capital letter again, a capital letter again, and so on. It is not a good sign when you are a photographer, and you have to make do with what you have. But you cant do much else. How many of your friends could you ask to join your work group? Or to take a photograph? And who is going to pay for your trip to the gallery?Theres no doubt that the work has an aesthetic quality, and that it is a kind of architectural record of the moment. But theres also no doubt that it is a kind of post-modernist practice: a record of the place where the record is made, and of the fact that it is a place where the record is made, and not a place where the record is made. The camera is a device for recording, but it is also a tool for making, and it records only the places where the record is made. So the work is a kind of record of the very act of making, not just of the act of making itself.And here we come to the question of the work itself. The work is made by the viewer. It is made by the viewer in a kind of interior, a sort of room that is a room, and in that room the work is made. But what is made is not a record of the act of making the work, but an act of making the work. So it is a kind of art, not just a record of an action, an action that happens in the course of the viewers experience of the work. And it is a work that is made by the viewer, not by the artist, but by the viewer as a viewer.

Result #4

. This work, Untitled (Hollow Storage Drawings), 2011, is a kind of bibliomania, its tattered pages of handwritten notes and typed-in notes left to be transcribed by the artist. The text is not legible, but its flow is obvious and easily readable, suggesting that the text is already available to the viewer. A similar flow of notes and notes is evident in the show as well. On the one hand, the material itself, the handwritten notes, is scattered about the space, like a conversation among the artists. On the other hand, we see them as a group, and they seem to be discussing ideas and the history of their work. In this way, the work suggests a dialogue between the individual artist and his or her audience, a dialogue that is deeply personal. The individual works have an intimacy that is difficult to convey in words, but that nevertheless connects them to the larger show: The repetition of the work of art is a way of giving voice to a collective experience.

Result #5

A cluster of drip-stands stored haphazardly and temporarily along the wall of a corridor in an NHS hospital in London, a giant cardboard box of which was installed just beyond the entrance to the museum. The space was dark and the walls were painted with a pattern of red, green, and blue circles. The rectangular boxes of the show were framed by a rough metal fence, in which a couple of large, black, and white rectangular planes stood out. The framed paintings—a monochromatic palette of brown, purple, and black, as well as a grid of black, white, and red—were hung on the fences edges. A couple of years ago, the artist used the same fence to frame a piece of painting, but here the paintings were framed, and a piece of the fence itself was installed in the center of the canvas. This was the sort of piece that is not meant to be seen from the street, and thus the exhibition was more of a meeting of two poles, which were more or less in conflict, and therefore even more interesting.A few other works in the show were also intended to be viewed from the street, but, like the paintings, they were hung on the fences edges. This was the case of the two-panel work Untitled (a Parrot), 1997, in which the artist painted a small black square on a white ground, creating a kind of fortissimo that was actually quite beautiful. In fact, the work is a kind of folk-art parrot, a sort of miniature version of the more famous white parrot, but made of silver, a material that would have been the color of a carved charcoal block if it had ever been made. The piece was also a sort of allegory for the exhibition, with the parrot, which had the form of a bird, as it were, as a kind of symbolic representation of a wandering artist. As the title of the work suggests, one should not expect the parrot to be found anywhere.