When clearing the space and storing my things a series of questions came to me in a wave of instant reflections, giving me specially a notion of the performative aspect of this undoing process of a place constituted itself to be a space of process and of construction.
The whole question of having a studio has been, I wouldn't say a burden, but an uncunfortable and thinkative question in my process. The idea of having a space in which the gap of my processes, originally just mental, materializes in front of my eyes revealed a profound sensation of insecurity towards with I am not used to, making unclear, what used to be very clear, of what constitutes a work, and what, on the other hand, may be an experiment, a material thought about proces or just a necessary mistake. And I have felt, understood and am starting to accept, that probably I am not the type of artist to be confined in the silent protocols a studio presents, and probably I may feel more free in the realm of the mind, as I have allways worked, first as a lack of acess to a physical space and now, understanding that I've learned to think differently by it, by an option. What brings me to Sol Lewitt's 29th sentence on conceptual art:
"29. Once the idea of the piece is established in the artist's mind and the final form is decided, the process is carried out blindly. There are many side effects that the artist cannot imagine. These may be used as ideas for new works." (Lewitt, 1969)
All these questions came together by the performative act of "unfolding" a studio into one single box. Almost as constituting a Pandora's box, creating this object of reduced dimensions with the vibrating latency of works that were, are, and shall be. And the strange feeling that drowned my thinking was that of unconstituting works. It was all as if I was depriving those objects from their auratic aspect of art. If at least not of art, but of their almost-artistic state. Or as if they were reduced once again, or now even more distant from that possibility of becoming art than before. In a way of now being almost-almost-art, having been turned into the latency-of-the-latency of a thought as they, even when they are fully enbodyed, are seen by myself as latencies-of-thoughts, or simply mental-propositions.
These process of unmaking what was and what was to be remind me very much of some methods used by argentine artist Marta Minujin, speacially in her work "Partenón de Libros"(1983) in wich she constituted in the middle of Buenos Aires a scaffold replica of the Parthenon covered with books prohibited in the time of the dictatorship in that country. The work was itself in some way in the manner of this "pandora's box" as I mentioned in the way that it is a vibrant, contained space with the latency of these mental propositions, ephemeral and even more powerfull as may exist only in memory or as in a fragment, one of the books carried out by one of the people passing by. So it wasn't just about the sculptural process, but also, and mainly, about making these books, that were silenced for so long, go around and make the changes that were so feared by the oppressing former governments in that country.
And Sol Lewitt grants me this beautiful and convenient thought from his "sentences on conceptual art":
"12.For each work of art that becomes physical there are many variations that do not." (Lewitt, 1969)
... And I would say that there are even others that become unphysical, although even more powerful sometimes, after being fully physical...
Marta Minujin's "Partenón de Libros", 1983
