During the Sydney Bienniale, we found Dot in the Art Gallery of NSW, happily painting a black wall in white paint, while at the same time on the opposite side of the foyer, a contemporary of hers was painting a white wall entirely black.
This, it turns out, was not a mid year revamp of the gallery entrance, but a work of art (apparently) that has been ongoing in one part of the world or another since 1990. One of the clever things about it is that the “artist” one Mr Nedko Solokov is no doubt holed up somewhere in his Mediterranean Villa while his volunteers slave endlessly furthering his art in the far flung corners of the globe. He doesn’t actually have to do anything except log on to his bank account occasionally to check that his latest installment has been lodged.
It’s some sort of reflection on the futility of everyday activity I suppose, but it did leave a lasting impression and as art is intended to do this piece left me entirely inspired.
Never again will I be accused of procrastination, of never completing a job, of starting things and leaving them. Never can I be accused of taking forever to get anything done around the house.
Next time I’m wandering round looking at all those jobs that are half done, I won’t feel a pang of remorse. I’ll be perusing my collection.
I’m not a slacker.
I’m an artist.
No comments
Post a Comment