one pic sunday. Lawrence Abu Hamdan

LAWRENCE ABU HAMDAN, Case 1: Can / Can’t, 2018
inkjet print mounted on Dibond, 31.5 x 15 cm

image © we find wildness

Case 1: Can / Can’t (2018) is part of the series Disputed Utterance (2018) that has been presented earlier this year at Mor Charpentier in Paris.

In Disputed Utterance (2018), LAWRENCE ABU HAMDAN presents a series of charcoal drawings and photographs that mimic the linguistic process of palatography, a method used to identify which parts of the mouth are used when making different sounds. It involves painting a mixture of charcoal and olive oil on the tongue or the roof of the mouth and having that person pronounce a specific word. The trace of the phoneme is then printed on the speakers’ palate in charcoal. ABU HAMDAN uses these images in order to tell different narratives of what in legal cases is referred to as a ‘disputed utterance’, a trial where someone’s culpability or innocence is hinged upon conflicted claims over a recorded word or phrase*. 

*press release Mor Charpentier, April 2018

One day, a gallerist met a man named Russell who had an ambitious idea. He thought the history of painting should be divided in two. The paintings that have a painting of themselves depicted, and the rest. The paintings that contain themselves, and the rest. Later in time, the gallerist decided to make an exhibition of all the Russell paintings. […] And at some point he called a painter friend, and asked him to make a painting of the exhibition, to immortalize it! […] The gallerist inspected it, and hung it in the only available space there was, as it was the last Russell painting in the world to have been made. But the painter drew his attention to the fact that the scene he had painted had now been modified. His painting didn’t contain all the Russell paintings anymore. He now had to fix his painting. He had to add his own painting to the All the Russell paintings. […] The gallerist then asked the painter to erase the image of itself. […] But now the painting couldn’t be titled All the Russell paintings, so he painted the painting in it again. What a problem! They erased it and painted it, they erased it and painted it again, forever… – excerpt from Not To Belong to Themselves (2018) by Mario Garcia Torres

one pic wednesday. Laurie Parsons

LAURIE PARSONS, A Body of Work 1987, exhibition view at Museum Abteiberg, 2018
image courtesy of Museum Abteiberg, Mönchengladbach

1988: A one-person show at Lorence-Monk Gallery, of objects collected over the course of a year. They are placed directly on the floor around the perimeter of the room in the order in which PARSONS encountered them. A pile of charcoal, a weathered coil of rope, a battered suitcase, a yellow nylon noose, an uprooted log, and more. She later describes one particularly cryptic object, from 1987, as “an inverted triangle formed by three lengths of a bed frame with the two longer sides crossed at the bottom, which is titled V, to recall the Thomas Pynchon novel.” No one, if you hadn’t already guessed, buys anything.

Intent on opening up a greater engagement with viewers, Parsons shifts from gathering individual objects to large sections of the landscape. Field of Rubble, 1988, is drawn from a fifteen-hundred-square-foot plateau beside the Hudson River where rubble mixed with such oddities as “packets of soy sauce, keys, butts of lottery tickets,” the artist recalls. “I spent weeks collecting the detritus, to later entirely cover the floor of a gallery.” My immediate take is SMITHSON, entropy, non-sites, and a freewheeling spirit of adventure more `60s than `80s-a search for realism through the thing itself. About a year later, a worker at a storage facility will go into her unit, open up some of the containers, and, finding what seems to be merely gravel and grimy trash (in actuality, Field of Rubble), throw all of it away. – BOB NICKAS, Artforum April 2003,

American artist LAURIE PARSONS (born 1959 in Mount Kisco, New York) was active with a number of exhibitions in the late 1980s and early 1990s and then transitioned away from the art world with consistent and determined gestures of commitment toward something else. A significant body of work was made in 1987 and shown in separate exhibitions at Lorence-Monk Gallery in New York in 1988 and Galerie Rolf Ricke in Cologne in 1989, after which the entire exhibition was purchased by a private German collection. Recently rediscovered and acquired by Gaby and Wilhelm Schürmann, it consists of found objects, mostly from around Parsons’s New Jersey studio—detritus from roads, natural and industrial wastelands. The words “a body of work” invoke PARSONS’s terminology in a title-less exhibition that, interestingly enough, did not contain the word “installation.” The artist’s avoidance of this word is probably a key to understanding her attitude. The status of the found objects was shown as-is. As things from the street. Each one individually. Valuable in its origin and strong in its presence, “as strong as a work of art.” (L. Parsons)

The manner in which PARSONS used the re-exhibition of these ordinary objects to call attention to their context signaled the start of her transition away from the art object and the art world to the everyday object and everyday world. It was an act of rebellion and growth that (to borrow Lucy Lippard’s sentence about the “dematerialization of the art object” in the 1960s) could be described as a “dematerialization of the art career.” Her next exhibition at Lorence-Monk Gallery in 1990 included all the baseline logistics of an exhibition including focusing the lights, paint touch-ups, normal activity and hours of operation for the gallery and staff, a press release and even an exhibition announcement card. However, the artist did not contribute anything additionally; no objects or actions filled the space, and the invitation card featured a completely blank area above the printed gallery name and address. PARSONS further opened up and entangled the conventional demarcations of art-making at the occasional gallery and institutional exhibition over the next two or three years: working as and with gallery interns (Andrea Rosen Gallery 1990-91), museum guards (New Museum, New York 1992-93), local towns, hospitals and schools. Around 1994, PARSONS quit her work as an artist altogether and has since been employed as a social worker for people living in homelessness and those with mental health disorders. She has avoided any reference to her own art for many years. – press release Museum Abteiberg, Mönchengladbach

A Body of Work 1987 by LAURIE PARSONS is on view at Museum Abteiberg in Mönchengladbach until September 2, 2018.

The ‘humanized object’ – that is, the artwork – cannot be compared to a living being, ethically speaking, or in terms of the creation of intensity. It is a philosophical mistake – as Winnicott explains – to conceive a newborn baby in itself, because this newborn baby, without an adult in immediate and continuous proximity, would die. The artwork is also a purely artificially maintained artefact that entirely depends on human presence and only exists as such because the spectator is there – as a reality or as a potentiality. Processes of subjectivation are influenced by encounters with objects. I would say that this is what artists are interested in and that it cannot be described in terms of the impact of an artwork on a public. The influence of the subject on the object is what capitalism in general – and collectors in particular – are obsessed with: the hand of the artist, the product which is the result of the worker’s labour. Extracting oneself from the relationships created by advanced capitalism is technically and practically difficult but emotionally very easy. – Claire Fontaine, Giving shape to painful things for Radical Philosophy, September/October 2012

one pic monday. Henrik Olesen

glass, glue, metal brackets, paper
46 × 60 × 20 1/2 in; 116.8 × 152.4 × 52.1 cm

image Courtesy of the artist and Galerie Chantal Crousel, Paris. photo: FLORIAN KLEINEFENN

The German word Icht means any thing, or any such thing. The word has nearly vanished in modern language, having survived only in Nichts—nothing, (or no-thing), which was formed out of the two words in (meaning no) and icht (any such thing) as in-icht. If we subtract the T from Icht, the Ich remains—the German equivalent to the I. Embedded and included in Icht, in any such thing, is the I, the inherent I of any such thing.

The subtracted T is also the mathematical nomen for transcendental numbers, numbers that have been first suspected to exist by the mathematicians Leibniz or Euler, who wrote that there must be numbers that exceed algebraic calculation, numbers that are impossible to grasp. Known transcendental numbers, proven to exist in the middle of the 19th century, are at the same time rare—the most famous being Pi—and supposedly many, but yet unknown, and mathematicians seemingly wait for them to spring up somewhere. As a rule they are irrational.

“The mathematical proof of the transcendence of numbers allowed the proof of the impossibility of several ancient geometric constructions involving  straightedge, and including the most famous one, squaring the circle.” (Wikipedia)

Transcendental numbers are also performative numbers, that extend while we calculate them. They resemble double mirrored images, waving at us from infinity, a glassy contingency, transparent, because approachable–you can always start on their path, but you will not see the end–, yet caught in themselves and in their own rules. On their way they never connect, but like the number Pi they sometimes play with connections, or emulate them. They sometimes seem to hide in known series of numbers, faking known results of calculations but then wander off on their own unruly path towards infinity.

The known transcendental numbers stem from spatial operations like squaring the circle, or calculating the space under a curve, calculations which recall social operations. When they are used—again in mathematical terms—within the “ratio of integers,” they are used in their imprecise approximations, by negating their performativity. How familiar «ratio of integers» sounds. A ratio of a whole, into which performativity cannot be squeezed.

HENRIK OLESEN’s exhibition at Gallery Chantal Crousel is not a linguistic operation at which this text may seem to hint, but what lies in the practise of opposing concepts, of mirroring them into their embedded infinity. It is about things opposed to bodies, as is sculpture at its core, adding an irrational that very simply distorts space. I also see them in the concepts of the Ichts, these Is in their bodily presence sent into the incalculability of time, where their existence performes as a screen for projections, identifications and feelings, being reminded of what Walter Benjamin writes about the I, and especially the I in the novels of Proust and Kafka: He writes: “When Proust in his Recherche du temps perdu, and Kafka, in his diaries, use I, for both of them it is equally transparent, glassy. Its chambers have no local coloring; every reader can occupy it today and move out tomorrow. You can survey them and get to know them without having to be in the least attached to them. In these authors the subject adopts the protective colouring of the planet, which will turn grey in the coming catastrophes.”

While HENRIK OLESEN knows, that the protective coloring of the planet is vulnerable, and especially today again, he is proposing communities, love, and friendship, as irrational agents, as incalculable Ts, and as traces on the outside, as well as traces of the making of the self, within its self-mirrored image. — ARIANE MÜLLER, press release for the exhibition HENRIK OLESEN, 6 or 7 new works presented at Chantal Crousel, Paris.

The exhibition 6 or 7 new works from which the work presented above was part of, was on view from April 28th to May 27th, 2018 at Chantal Crousel Paris.


wfw weekend #450

installation view from Think Tank (2008/2018), GIANNI MOTTI
seen at Helmhaus, Zürich
on Saturday May 19, 2018
image © we find wildness

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Fernando Pessoa. The Anarchist Banker (1922)

screen capture from
on May 19, 2018
image © we find wildness

The Anarchist Banker is a short story by FERNANDO PESSOA (1888-1935) that has been published in May 1922 on the first issue of the Portuguese journal Contemporanea. The text takes the form a Platonic dialogue in which a wealthy banker defends his lifelong commitment to the anarchist cause, portraying his career as the natural outcome of a clever practice of radical individual freedom.

The Anarchist Banker by FERNANDO PESSOA from which the above screencapture is coming from, is available online via

I use the Internet a lot. I would even think of oral communication as a technology and a dissemination tool. When the work is just the beginning of a speculation (some sort of private rumor) it doesn’t matter what medium carries it. In that sense, if we think the Internet now possess some sort of credibility -although we all know that its not necessarily true all the time-, it has become a great broadcasting vehicle, just as the museum is. – Jonathan Monk in Jonathan Monk catalogue, Lisson Gallery & Galerie Yvon Lambert, 2003

David Hanes. wfw aware #50

Aware: Sophia, DAVID HANES
presented at Ultrastudio Pescara
shot on December 17, 2017, altered on April 10, 2018 by DAVID HANES*
image courtesy of the artist and we find wildness

*DAVID HANES lives and works in Berlin. Read more about this special project for we find wildness here.

one pic wednesday. Joe Sola

Studio Visit, 2005
still from single-channel color video, 8 minutes.
Courtesy Blackston, New York and NYE + Brown, Los Angeles

Studio Visit (2005) is a eight minute video in which JOE SOLA is inviting collectors, curators, and critics to his Los Angeles studio to talk about his art. He would chat amiably for a few minutes, and then take a flying leap out the closed window in an explosion of shattered glass. His guests would dash to the window, only to find SOLA chortling on top of a pile of strategically arranged cardboard boxes eight feet below. Over a period of two years, he repeated this act 22 times.

June 1999. When artist Adam Chodzko was invited to make a piece of work as part of this off-site programme, he questioned the notion of an identifiable ‘public’ and the possibility of producing an ‘accessible’ work. His intervention, Better Scenery (2000) consisted of two signs, one located in the Arizona Desert and the other in the car park of a new shopping centre, the O2 Centre, in Camden. The plain yellow lettering on the black face of each sign gives clear directions of how to get to the other sign. Both sets of directions end with the phrase: ‘Situated here, in this place, is a sign which describes the location of this sign you have just finished reading. – Jane Rendell about Adam Chodzko, Better Scenery (1999)

Laure Prouvost. Lisson Presents…ON AIR

Lisson Presents…ON AIR is a series of podcasts produced by Lisson Gallery. This episode is focused on the sound work of French artist LAURE PROUVOST and includes the following track list:

This Voice is a Big Whale, 2013
Sound work by LAURE PROUVOST

We are Waiting for you, 2017

Tea-song, 2014
Music by DAN ARAN

Grand dad, 2010

UKstaywithusEU, 2018
Lyrics by LAURE PROUVOST & Nick Aitkens

Please note that LAURE PROUVOST is actually having a solo exhibition at Lisson Gallery in New York. The exhibition is on view until April 14, 2018.

wfw weekend #449

exhibition view from An Idea of Late German Sculpture To the People of New York, LENA HENKE
seen at Kunsthalle Zürich
on Saturday, March 10. 2018
image © we find wildness

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wfw weekend #448

Untitled (2018), LEONARD DE MURALT
seen at Smallville, Neuchâtel
on Saturday, March 24, 2018
image © we find wildness

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wfw weekend #447

exhibition view from Stepping Stairs, JUDITH HOPF
seen at KW, Berlin
on Thursday, March 16, 2018
image © we find wildness

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