Investigations into Art and Text
Investigations into Art and Text
Article published in Framework, Vol 4, Issue 1: FORM. TEXT. LANGUAGE, April 2016
bit.fall 2001-2006 by Julius Popp, image courtesy of Museum of Old and New Art
“NOT WORDS, BUT THE TEXTUAL EXPRESSION OF EXPERIENCE”
A recent visit to the Museum of Old and New Art began a personal investigation into art and text. The Museum hold three pieces that stood out to me as being a pure form of text causing art, either with its overwhelming repetition of words or devoid of any text at all. Going to MONA without ‘O’(1), the museum's reaction to a space without wall text, you are instead looking for your own interpretations of the art’s meaning instead of relying on the curator or artists words. This lead me to think about the use of text with effect to the art industry and the language used to describe and summarise.
Our own language is something we don’t think about on a day to day basis. Instead we rely on a personal bank of words collected in our language memory through the cognitive psychology and cognitive neuroscience parts of our brains; something that is developed as soon as we start hearing words. A memory started organically from hearing our mother's voice; evolving through babbling to words. However in this fast paced digital world, do we rely on other people to develop our language for us, from art reviews; bloggers; and social media?
bit.fall (2001-2006) by Julius Popp lets you create your own pieces of text from singular words. Words are formed from water jets, suspended from the celling, shooting water words into your eye line. The words are generated at random from the internet and act as a metaphor for the incessant flood of information we are exposed to. Elizabeth Pearce draws on the fact that the work holds its powers over the audience with “not words, but the textual expression of experience.” By using a single word, you can become relatable to every person. Each member of the audience can recall a personal story inside their head, the continual repetition of words acting as their online news feed.
There is an innate irony as artists are creating works for an audience, yet these works are to become documented with text and language at the scrutiny of the critic. Trained or amateur the text that describes art, for example in exhibition reviews or personal blogs, acts as activator or barrier to understanding the work. Our own opinion can become formed from a piece of text from someone completely independent of our selves. A perfect example of this being John Mcdonald’s review on the 20th Sydney Biennale idea to present the Embassies with words to relate to the artworks. “When ideas can be presented as a shopping list we are being fed too much information,” yet this ‘shopping list’ can introduce ideas to the average Biennale goer that they may not have thought about (2).
Encyclopedia (2005) from Charles Sandison plays on this point of the single entity of a word. His art is a computer generated data projection of words. This piece asks the meaning of simple one-word, or “a bacterium of meaning. ” Displayed on the sandstone wall of the inner depths of MONA, this piece of text is projected into a mass of words to finally conclude as the artwork you see before you. Sandison’s website states “‘I’m a paragraph. Click here to add your own text and edit me. It’s easy. Just click “Edit Text”… I’m a great place for you to tell a story and let your users know a little more about you.” I realised this was part of an unfinished website, stock standard words on a website template, but they fit to Sanidson’s work: You’re invited to pull away words and put them into your own piece of text.
A piece of text differs from a single painting and plays into effect due to its duality rather than being a single entity. Creating pieces of work to be formed within the audience’s mind, manipulating and controlling another person’s thoughts for the time you have them. Not unlike a piece of art sitting in between the gallery walls. I personally like art that lets you reflect on life and our position within it. A particular room at MONA really stood out to me. It allowed for this personal contemplation by offering a room full of empty books, just white pages.
‘Untitled’ by Wilfred Priesto is devoid of text. This absence acts as a metaphor for what words and text can say or do, the power that a book or a newspaper has over a person. To take this away makes the viewer review what is left behind? Wilfredo Priesto has created a buffer to the text and art investigation. The piece itself is offered no title by its maker. Instead nicknamed ‘white library’ or ‘blank library’ by David Walsh. These titles offer a description of the work but Priesto’s submission of his own title: ‘ ’ says so much more. The art work is an installation piece that has its own room in the museum. The simple blonde wooden library holds completely blank books. The covers have no words or pictures, the pages devoid of any text. The authors bio left out, the introduction missing. The back of the book looks like the front and reveals what will be inside. Nothing. By removing the text, Priesto presents how important it is to us to define everything with words through doing the opposite and taking words away. Words can act as a buffer to oversimplify.
Art and text have its links throughout history, working together to form opinions, commenting on society and culture. With words and without them. I realised the importance of words at MONA and the effect they can have on the viewers own interpretations of art works. The investigation is ongoing and the more I look for the links in exhibitions; in public art and in the library, I see they would struggle without each other.
Wilfredo Prieto’s “Untitled” (White Library) of Sotherby’s.
1. ‘O’ is the interactive headphone and iPhone device which give you the titles of the work and the artist bio/descriptions of the works- including interviews with Walsh and the artists. 2. See John McDonald’s review on the 20th Sydney Biennale http://johnmcdonald.net. au/2016/biennale-of-sydney-2016/ 3. A quote from David Walsh from The Story of ‘O’ published by MONA
