Tuesday, May 11, 2021

Florian Hecker | Halluzination, Perspektive, Synthese










Florian Hecker
Halluzination, Perspektive, Synthese
Berlin, Germany: Sternberg Press, 2019
384 pp., 24 × 32 cm, softcover
Edition size unknown

Available from the publisher, here


"TWO HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-SEVEN PAGES, column after column of digits so tiny and so densely packed that, even with my reading glasses on, I have to use a magnifying glass. Three sets of numbers in each column, eleven columns on each page. This is the principal part of Florian Hecker: Halluzination, Perspektive, Synthese, the catalogue produced in the aftermath of sound artist Florian Hecker’s 2017 exhibition at Vienna’s Kunsthalle Wien. Leafing through the volume, I am lost in what feels like an endless, undulating expanse of ciphers I cannot possibly hope to make sense of, abstractions more brutal than most conceptions of modern art could ever have prepared me for.

Yet while numbers as such are abstract, numbers relating to concrete things are not: They are part of the world of actual phenomena. And the endless columns of numerals are exactly that. They express the values and measures of “timbre”—an elusive quality of auditory texture whose significance is largely founded on the fact that, unlike “pitch” or “harmony,” it cannot be exactly described. Timbre could be the overtones you hear as a sound lingers. It could be the warmth of a particular violin or the sudden shrill edge of an angry voice. There are so many ways of hitting a high C—and timbre is, essentially, what differentiates them. No wonder that a modern age focused on scientifically capturing, calculating, and reproducing even the most fleeting sensations would become fixated on it. In modern music, composers such as Wagner and Debussy were obsessed with timbre, attempting to foreground and celebrate its complexities in their compositions. Others endeavored to synthetically produce it: In the field of electroacoustic and electronic music, composers such as Pierre Schaeffer, Karlheinz Stockhausen, and Iannis Xenakis sought to both modulate and replicate preexisting sound textures—and create new ones from scratch. But taking seriously the very elusiveness of timbre—that it is essentially a hybrid signature of a concatenation of events including not just the vagaries of the sound source but also the ear and brain of the individual listener—how do you actually produce it?"

- Ina Blom, Artforum


Monday, May 10, 2021

Chris Burden died five years ago today

 











James Lee Byars | Gold Dust is My Ex Libris


















James Lee Byars
Gold Dust is My Ex Libris
Eindhoven, The Netherlands: Stedelijk Van Abbemuseum, 1983
[unpaginated], 17 x 17 x 16 cm., softcover
Edition of 500 

Also known as "The White Cube" (or even "Untitled") this sculptural object/artist book/exhibition catalogue was published to coincide with an exhibition at the Van Abbemuseum in Eindhoven in 1983. 

Despite being over a thousand pages, the book features no more content than a standard exhibition catalogue. The block effect is achieved by surrounding the printed pages with a series of blank pages at the beginning and ending of the book. 

Because of its size and weight the book is fragile, and copies in pristine condition are uncommon. 



Friday, May 7, 2021

Alice Hutchins | L'ultima cena





Alice Hutchins
L'ultima cena
Verona, Italy: Edizioni Francesco Conz, 1991
21 x 21 x 3 cm.
Edition of 21 signed, numbered, dated and titled copies

A magnet affixed to a porcelain plate holds a metal ball chain. Hutchins' sculptural works were often participatory, and frequently involved the use of magnets. 

Available from the publisher, here, for € 500.00. 


Thursday, May 6, 2021

Eric Andersen | Postcard in Four Colours












Eric Andersen
Postcard in four colours 
Copenhagen, Denmark: Self-published, 1967
small: 9.3 x 14.4 cm., large: 14.5 x 20.5 cm.
Edition size unknown

Reprinted several times since 1967, these postcards foreground the verso by adding colour to the address lines, and leaving the front essentially blank. 

From the collection of Micah Lexier and the Bonotto Foundation.