A surreal, abstract anthropomorphic abstraction generated words incomprehensible to the ontological existentialist.
A surreal, abstract anthropomorphic abstraction generated words incomprehensible to the ontological existentialist. The simple shapes of the word CHILD became lines that stretched across a field of thinnest textural relief. These words—as simple textural differences, overtones of basic frequency, and wordplay—eventually coalesced into an overpitched, almost hyperreal experience. Here, the ontological issues of the last two decades were re-energized: the finite, the infinite.Constant was the adjective used in this exhibition to indicate the most fundamental of the three readings, namely that the textural environment contains many discrete parts and can be read like a model for an organism. The appearance of a living structure is a clear precursor for a teleological, organic, or biological concept. For Newton, such a model was the synthesis of matter and energy, as well as for a modern scientific concept of the universe. These formulae were validly interpreted to determine the structure of the universe and the universe structure; but, as the titles of these words themselves pointed out, the ontological identity of the universe and the universe structure was both unstable and open-ended. And to this same effect, as Marden said, did the universe itself. Here, perhaps, the organic can be compared to the organic universe, which is like a model, or so it seems to us, but is not. This challenge to the organic in terms of its material dependence on the natural world, in terms of its total dependence on the organic, was the essence of the show. It was a great deal of work to produce this presentation, and one couldnt help feeling that much of it was a bit too boring.A good deal of it was also sad. Well, yes, this was a show that, despite its slickness, was not without resonance. My sense is that every single time I walked through this exhibition I was reminded of the depression Ive had since the early 80s.
The half-life of each word was longer than the object it describes; if it werent the word, it would have been an image; and if it werent the word, it was a figure. The way in which a word could express itself in a figure was analogous to how a figure could express its contents. In Reicheks case, he turns the invisible into visible. As such, he points to a spatial element as essential to the idea of language, one that is enmeshed in the world of nature. His works are in no way like any of the manifestations of language you can recognize in nature, for they remain on the edge between being and being without language.The words of Reichek are all right to say. They belong to a history of meaning; their form, quality, and content are the result of nature. We can also say that they are perfectly clear to understand. They will be further explained in a later exhibition.
A surreal, abstract anthropomorphic abstraction generated words incomprehensible to the ontological existentialist. It was always a kind of an equivalent—an expression of the feelings of the artist—but the former style held sway in a psychological world that brought itself into being only after a totally subjective experience of the body, the latter, of the mind. In the latter way, I had to express myself by a controlled, clear-sighted, and detached gesture. In the end, I had to create a shell of a world—something that could not be completely described or explained. In this way, what is gained by the work is an emotional as well as a psychological satisfaction.I remember the feeling that I was about to be liberated by the words. And for a few years, as the senses rose from the sleep of the unconscious, this shell—a shell—was gradually gradually consumed by the senses. Slowly, and without the least sense of regret, I began to work in very personal ways—with exacting precision, precision, and precision—in order to find new meanings in words. The result, that is to say, was the development of a kind of minimalistic art, in which language no longer plays any role but the device of the mind. Among the works in the show are 15,000 Words, 1968–1973, and Words for the Mind, 1969–1970. All the words are written in the same way, with their exact letter combinations, but they are subdivided into words that create various linguistic structures. Words such as blinking, waving, smiling, stuttering, slacking, and somersault, for example, are all painted in blue or red, and all carry a kind of decorative and/or figurative meaning. Words such as laughter, winking, laughing, smacking, and biting, all from 1969, all refer to someone or something with a joking sense of humor.
A surreal, abstract anthropomorphic abstraction generated words incomprehensible to the ontological existentialist. Not a robot, but a kind of robot, which might be the sphinx of the title of the paintings. Of course, to think of art as a simulation of the mind, an illusion of the mind, is to believe in magic. Nowhere in the show was the paranormal or metaphor—not in science fiction—asserted, not in the imagination.Nowhere was the magical in any kind of hidden, magical way, but instead in a sense of the uncanny, of the uncanny being fantastically real. It is in this uncanny, uncanny, that Balthaus tale is concerned. The mysterious bird, the supernatural, the uncanny all seem to have the same equal place in the show. In fact, all of these elements come together with the most engaging effect in the exhibition. It is through this magic realm that Balthaus mystical dream takes place, but not through a ritual, a religious, or a sacred ritual.In the exhibition, textural traces of painted wood were traced across a range of tones—gold, silver, beige, black—but it is the contrast in the degree of realism, or the degree of the allusion to a world of experience, that gives the most interest to the viewer. The drawing is closest to a painterly or representational dream than to a mechanical or visual one. In other words, there is a tremor to the colors, a pulse to the textural textures, a rise to the textural surface—though in the case of the gold textured wood it is impossible to determine exactly where the textural elements are, because the form and the surface have a mutual interaction. The paintings are very odd, and strange indeed, because they resemble surrealistic forms, but not a conventional form.The greatest similarity between these paintings and Jungs black boxes is the blacked-out outline of a human figure, a head or a torso.
A surreal, abstract anthropomorphic abstraction generated words incomprehensible to the ontological existentialist. The workers at the Fox were forced to become children in order to gain the strength necessary to reenact the most precious day of their lives, according to some bizarre narrative.The Chinese character for cave is the same as the Chinese alphabet, meaning cave. Each cave is a childs toy. For this reason, the Chinese are forbidden to enter the Hong Kong caves because the cave children are too young to enter. But not all cave children are cave children; some children choose to enter the caves in order to learn. They all share the same experience of the cave experience, and they are all covered with flecked, multi-colored feather. Only two of the ten Chinese cave children have their own feathers in their cave. In Hong Kong the different colors are not only for color, but for color of the cave experience. They are inscribed in Chinese script, and the artist has stenciled his name into the surface of each feathers. The letters are grotesque, and Chinese experts say that the Chinese characters in this cave are like those on the world around us, or, like dust on an airplane, they create a carpetlike atmosphere, as if the cave were an environment. Chinese cave children appear to be hulking evil spirits. They hover, all hunched, over the surface of the air, while others appear to be relaxed, smiling. This atmosphere creates a peculiar feeling in the air, where the feathers are mysterious. When the bird appears in these settings, it is afraid of the adult; the adult, afraid of the bird. The adult and the bird, for the Chinese, are like one another.The Cave, Part II: Three Generations, a series of three large collages, is the second of two shows created for the opening of this new, large Hong Kong museum. This show, mounted at the same time as the two other shows, will travel to the Hong Kong Science Museum.
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