A LETTER TO A FREIND
We were asked to participate in a publication project by Virgil Taylor, a friend and artist, on the occasion of an exhibition prepared at Artists Space in New York: Minor Publics. The exhibition project is, briefly, about a sculpture by Sol LeWitt that was presented in 1987 as part of the Skulptur Projekte Münster. LeWitt’s work was titled “Black Form - Dedicated to the Missing Jews”; in the following years, a debate flared up in Münster about the function of art and the form of the monument, which led to the sculpture, one of the city’s first monuments to the genocide of its jewish inhabitants, being torn down and rebuilt in Hamburg-Altona.
Between the three, nothing is fully caught, captured, reflected or found. Fuck a category. Locate a scene. The line bends and becomes an uncertain circle. Weakly circumambulating a potential space of meaning: a scene. A condition, an object, an activity. And again. Speaking of anyone, and the feeling of meaning missing becomes apparent. We are at a bar in an arcade, the space outside has been renovated but the interior has not, save an awkward A/C unit. Locate a scene, an uncertain circle which cannot hold. The line between is loosely dashed, the breaks might let you see the meaning. The space outside is renovated, but the interior is transparent. We are in a gallery, we are on the street. We are listening to, you are hearing this. I am looking at, you are viewing. What distinguishes an artwork from other forms