the project: Inscriptions
The thinking of Hans-Georg Gadamer and Paul Ricoeur on the (literary) work as a 'happening', or an 'event', I find enlightening for my own understanding of my work. More and more the act of working, the experience of working and the "inscription" of that experience in the work, has come to be in the center of my interest. The ambiguity of the passing of experience in time, and the during inscription of that experience in the work, which -as Ricoeur says- is being actualised in the experience of the work by the viewer, I want to address in this project.
One aspect of this perspective that fascinates me is the autonomy of the work that directly 'speaks back' to me as the creator. As a maker I'm also the first viewer of the work. If the work already autonomously talks back to me as the creator - from the first inscription of an act of creation onwards - how come I decide to work on it further? Apparently I have an intention, however unspoken and undefined, that I recognize in a greater or lesser degree in the work as it is at a certain point. The elusiveness of that intention that I appear to have when I'm working on a work of art, is nevertheless the motivation and the measure of the work.
As subject matter, I chose the lightfall through the windows of my studio. The fall of light in the space where I live, has always been an essential given for me. It is an experience of 'being there' and even more: 'being here'. The passing in time of this way of being, has for me - from childhood on - been an essential experience of existence. To capture this passing, inscripting it durable in a work, might that not be one of the most essential aspects of being an artist? The ambiguity of identity, which is physically hard to pin down over time, and yet remains himself.
One aspect of this perspective that fascinates me is the autonomy of the work that directly 'speaks back' to me as the creator. As a maker I'm also the first viewer of the work. If the work already autonomously talks back to me as the creator - from the first inscription of an act of creation onwards - how come I decide to work on it further? Apparently I have an intention, however unspoken and undefined, that I recognize in a greater or lesser degree in the work as it is at a certain point. The elusiveness of that intention that I appear to have when I'm working on a work of art, is nevertheless the motivation and the measure of the work.
As subject matter, I chose the lightfall through the windows of my studio. The fall of light in the space where I live, has always been an essential given for me. It is an experience of 'being there' and even more: 'being here'. The passing in time of this way of being, has for me - from childhood on - been an essential experience of existence. To capture this passing, inscripting it durable in a work, might that not be one of the most essential aspects of being an artist? The ambiguity of identity, which is physically hard to pin down over time, and yet remains himself.