On the Score which is yet to be.
To be voiced.
Here we are, together, at the centre of a work, and at the centre of an institution of work. Our real work is at the centre of our unreal work within the centre of the work of this institution.
Yes, of course, lets not be disingenuous about it. Our work is at the centre of our work within the institution but due to the nature of that work perhaps our work within the institution has to become less central.
As meanings and values become split and fragmented between a sense of centre and sense of institutional core, (or strewn across, perhaps?), then all centres, clusters, nexuses, clumps, sods, pools, puddles, and gatherings, tend to bed in andhunker down for the long winter ahead.
And indeed, (and we sing this in another register)
“is there any sign of spring?”.
Our work, of which we are at the centre, (and the work is at our centre) consists currently of some of the artefacts (which includetexts) placed here, within the template of whereverit is that is currently being placed. But the work also consists of the actual placing of the artefacts as in the act of placing. A word here, a comma there. A guttural outburst there.
We too of course are artefacts.
The bindings and grindings and relationships between the act of placing the artefacts, the act of constructing the artefacts (by which we mean from thought to matter and back again), and the artefacts themselves are heavily intertwined, and, of course inseparable. At the centre of our institution of work there are similar inseparable bindings, but, due to the nature of our institutions these, convoluted, often ornate, baroque and even elegant systems are often seen as problematic because of their complexity, and thus, their awkwardness in the face of a teleological return (towards that lost event horizon) within the epistemic realms.
Trans Art, like any other organised cultural or indeed educational space has its institutional frameworks and rhetorics which one must work within. If one doesn’t one is no longer contributing to the Trans Art, but to something other than Trans Art, which Trans Art may or may not become. Either way, it is not as it is in the here and now. All we can do is inhabit.
The work, in a sense becomes, as one would wish the inhabitants of the institution would become and the institution to become. The texts and words and the images and the sounds become, again and again. The texts are scores which are played back by the player and performed again and again. The texts tell us nothing (explicitly) in so much that any text that is telling us nothing is revealing something about nothing. The texts evolve as they unfold. Or unfold as they evolve.
The reversals, the inversions, the mistakes, the mash up of rhetoric.
The texts are pre-written then riffed upon on the wall/screen/space of the blog. But where does the pre-writing begin and end? And aren’t the texts always ‘riffing’ and ‘laughing’ at us?
A more serious note on the painting and text relationship which is yet to arrive. The improvisatory character, the in and out of ‘voices’ and the shift in registers is significant.
He. She. I. It. Me. Them. You. Plus the use of single and double inverted commas, as if to ask, who is speaking? This tactics allow us to move in and through the text and image field as if it and we existed in multiple dimensions. Not simply the IT and the I. Not simply the horizontal, and the vertical.
But through different subjective relationships, and through being above, below, near and far, behind and within the texts via mirroring, reversing and rhetorical shift we can achieve a weightlessness which is both heady and nauseous, a euphoric and delirious phantasm almost like magic.
A pencil dragging on the wall while writing the texts. Like a rubbing on a grave.
There is a slow accretion, something mooted, which appears (as if forgotten) 6 months later. That is now. We throw this text towards the future. There is no ‘time’ in this regard (as the thing is forgotten the thing simply wasn’t there). But there is delay which is a different thing altogether. In this sense these texts bear witness to the texts yet to come.
They are inside out ghosts.
“Hello there”, they say, “I’ll be out of your hair in a week or so but in someone
The letters themselves do not appear at once. Some are worked, some less so, all can be worked again. Some exists as durations, a layering, some as a simple touch. The knowledge gained by this is through the experience of multiple temporalities in the one frame, and even through multiple subjectivities and temporalities.
We speak in the there and when as opposed to the here and now.
The work is an exorcism in reverse. It doesn’t seek to cast out, it seeks to draw and suck the phantoms towards it and keep them trapped inside, with only the merest glimpses pushing through.
About the contributors: Steve Dutton and Andrew Bracey are UK based artists and curators. The Midpointness Blog project will be a four part monthly contribution to ThIS Blog. This is Part 1.