Pulled from raw material through the history of its function, the object made from an entire reclaimed bannister records the movements of the body through space when the body is no longer there. It acts as mediator between the space and the body, a guide for the hand into three dimensional space. The object meets the hand. the hand meets the object.
Recalling the rhythms of the hand, the even movement that fashioned tools from stones, the flows that shaped the contours of things, the object is embedded into the gestures of being made. Hands are impressed into its surface, changing its form. Hands impressed into its surface, guided by its form.
The object has absorbed the memory of people, -it has absorbed their absence. It has become the artificial ruin of their existing architectures.
A staircase where descending and ascending overlap. A staircase leading inward, upward and nowhere, cutting through timelines, spaces and geological folds. The alchemical serpent eating its own tail suggesting eternal returns and mathematical infinities. The figures of eights. A spiral that turns into a loop, suggesting the possibilities of things happening simultaneously on non linear timelines. time that folds into space suggesting a future that has already happened and a past that was yet to come.
“More of less what follows: Midnight sounds - the Midnight when the dice must be cast.
Igitur descends the stairs of the human mind, goes to the depths of things: as the ‘absolute’ that he is.
Tombs-ashes (not feeling, nor mind) dead center.
He recites the prediction and makes the gesture.
Indifference. Hissings on the stairs. ‘You are wrong’: no emotion.
The infinite emerges from chance, which you have denied.
You mathematicians expired - I am projected absolute.
I was to finish an Infinite.
Simply word and gesture.
As for what I am telling you, in order to explain my life.
Nothing will remain of you - The infinite at last escapes the family, which has suffered from it - old space - no chance.”
“A peu près ce qui suit : Minuit sonne - le Minuit où docent être jetés les dés.
Igitur descend les escalier, de l’esprit humain, va au fond des choses : en “absolu” qu’il est.
Tombeaux - cendres (pas sentiment, im esprit) neutrality.
Il recite la prediction et fait le geste.
Indifference. Sifflements dans l’escalier. ‘Vous aveztort” nulle emotion.
L’infini sort de hasard, que vous avez nié.
Vous, mathématiciens expirâtes - moi projeté absolu.
Quant à ce que je vous dis, pour expliquer ma vie.
Rien ne restera de vous - L’infini enfin échappeà la famille, qui en a souffert - vieil espace - pas de hasard.”
Extract from IGITUR (OU LA FOLIE D’ELBEHNON) par Stéphane Mallarmé