Blesok no. 60, May-June, 2008
The Public on Step-brotherly St. (without a house number)
With The Public on Step-brotherly St. (without a house number), I am closing my production which was exploring the relations about the art-work and the creativity. Actually, The Public on Step-brotherly St. (without a house number) is a metaphor of what’s relational and of situation resulting from it.
The Public on Step-brotherly St. (without a house number) unites several projects of mine (2005-2007) that did not receive the necessary public attention (so that I could calmly put a closure on all this …). And for the following reasons: partly because it is to do with site-specific projects, away from the exhibition format; next, there are some project that were executed and on display outside of Skopje (the Metropolis); some of the projects were not exhibited in Macedonia at all, while few had appeared in the magazines (a public medium but not enough for the artistic intent); finally, all these projects deserve to be seen anew, because the artistic production is insufficiently monitored and critically assessed.
In these projects I question and I tease with the circumstances of the art-work and the creation, as well as with the subjects of that circumstantial practice – the subjects that are caught in the zone of interests, dependences and provisos. The Public on Step-brotherly St. (without a house number) stands for a location – a seat of alliances over the philosophy of that which is necessary. This necessity is a dimension of my interest – a point of intersection for the author and the institutions, for the author and the art critique, for the authors themselves, for the author and the artistic reality, for the author and the creative ambiance, for the author and the relativisms and for other situations similar to these.
In the projects I deal with the wish/wishing for. I wish to tame the vanity. I wish for more will for freedom. I wish for professionalism, and I wish for many of that which I/we are in a need of.
I wish there were writings on art, at least as much as there is some art produced: because of the interpretation and mediation, because of the detained piece of time and because of the contribution made to the survival of what’s most personal creation; because of ourselves (and of those men of pen), striving to outlast with integrity the writings of our times – that ugly relativism of the values. In our parts, the writings on art are scarce, all the while there is much loose talk on the subject. How can one explain this quality of our traditional, idle ramblings over the matter, without (at the same time) getting soiled by this – mentioned in passing by the writers of calling – attitude: the art-work may have not existed at all, unless they have addressed its reality in writing. There is some truth in this statement which brings up some more question marks. What if the art critics were writing (as they are already doing it too) under the duress of trivialities (embittered and impotent) – that would seal “the truth” of the work of art. The other side of this, ever so present, discursive coin (away from the theater of words/talking) is akin to the miracle of the theater of shadows which is constructed by the necessities (what is to be done in order to be) of the fully grown medium – interpretation of the work of art – as transformed into a false/topsy turvy image of some need of superintendence or rearrangement.
What I need is the beauty in the depicting properties of words.