The artwork is spread through the museum; it
originates in the parts of it that remain off boundaries to the general public.
The artwork expresses the movement and activity of the museum’s staff, in some
sense it illustrates the way people inhabit the building.
An algorithm, based on
statistical criteria, attempts to form words and phrases by random permutations
of characters. On the other hand the random component
has a more human side to it, the uncertainty of the work depends on people’s
behaviours. It is site specific, time specific and people specific.
It cannot be reproduced, or held on to. It
exists as time. It lives only virtually, once all the cables are unplugged
nothing remains of it. The installation is able to capture something ordinary,
trivial, unoriginal, and turn it into art.
The issues that were questioned by the museum’s
organization when I first come forth with the project led me to ask questions
of my own. What is information? What can the flow of typing
tell us that should remain private? What is confidential? Is it doomed to remain vaulted or
can it become something else? But most importantly, there is the question of knowledge.
The museum space offers itself white and unhabited, but
actually behind those walls there are people working as one passes by.
Knowledge has to do with being aware of what goes on but one cannot see.
Unavoidably one cannot be typing thus feeding the installation and at the same
time observe the results. Just as well, there is nothing to see when no one is
there typing.