The exhibition contained two beautiful sculptures. Some visitor seemed to pay no attention to the work. They were very interested in the words describing the work however. A translation for the reading mind. A way to feel about the space they were in. Words, direction, hints, descriptions, thoughts. Sometimes the pen seems not only stronger than the sword, but also stronger than a brush or chisel. Sometimes.
Visiting a place to read about it. Why am I writing this?
Did they realize that they were only visitors? Did they realize that they were the softest part of the exhibition? The exhibition needed them to exist. It would continue to exist in them. They would take it with them. Back home. This short read impression about it. The description of the transient space they were in.
i didn't get this one. you know, the whole place is closed off, you barely get to see any of the permanent collection, and then up, up up to the top, to see the giant white casts of german (?) flat glory. thank god i took the elevator.
so i am one of the folks in the picture. not one of the actual folks, but you know, one of *them*. i wish you'd been there to help. i felt like i was missing something but i knew i'd never get it. but i haven't stopped wondering about it, and maybe that counts for something.
Posted by: portia on July 3, 2002 11:34 AM