Will Holder: For the blind man in a dark room looking for a black cat that isn't there.

For the blind manin a dark roomlooking for a black catthat isn’t there.

Suppose that someone asked you to keep a record of your thoughts,exactly, and in terms of the symbols given, when you are making an effortto multiply XVI times LXIV. Also suppose that, refusing to give up,you finally arrive at the right answer, which happens to be MXXIV.I’m sure that it would’ve been easier for you to solve this problem,if you would have found that 16 times 64 equals 1024.

IB E G I N in Ancient Greece,with Socrates announcing

FOR THE BLIND MAN…

ἓν οἶδα ὅτιοὐδὲν οἶδα*

Suppose that someone asked you to keep a record of your thoughts,exactly, and in terms of the symbols given, when you are making an effortto multiply XVI times LXIV. Also suppose that, refusing to give up,you finally arrive at the right answer, which happens to be MXXIV.I’m sure that it would’ve been easier for you to solve this problem,if you would have found that 16 times 64 equals 1024.

IB E G I N in Ancient Greece,with Socrates announcing

ἓν οἶδα ὅτιοὐδὲν οἶδα*

We find that confusionhas always beenat the heart of wisdom.

LOOKING FOR THE BLACK CAT…

*IN A DARK ROOM…

We find that confusionhas always beenat the heart of wisdom.

*IN A DARK ROOM…

a blindmanin a dark roomlooking for a black catthat isn’t there.”

Centuries later comes a statementmany have attributed to Charles Darwin:

“amathematician is like

…THAT ISN’T THERE.

a blindmanin a dark roomlooking for a black catthat isn’t there.”

Centuries later comes a statementmany have attributed to Charles Darwin:

“amathematician is like

As a scientist committed to cataloguing,explaining, and drawing a clear picture of nature,he was mocking a mathematician’s inabilityto describe the physical world in anythingbut abstract and speculative terms.

IN A DARK ROOM…

As a scientist committed to cataloguing,explaining, and drawing a clear picture of nature,he was mocking a mathematician’s inabilityto describe the physical world in anythingbut abstract and speculative terms.

IN A DARK ROOM…

Knowing that he knows nothingis precisely what keeps him going.

The confusion of a blind man, however,is an experience of restless curiosityand relentless speculation.

Despite his blindness,the darkness of the room,the cat’s blackness

and its well-known elusiveness,[and the possibility thatthere might not even be one there],

the blind man pursues his appreciationand understanding of the world.

Knowing that he knows nothingis precisely what keeps him going.

The confusion of a blind man, however,is an experience of restless curiosityand relentless speculation.

Despite his blindness,the darkness of the room,the cat’s blackness

and its well-known elusiveness,[and the possibility thatthere might not even be one there],

the blind man pursues his appreciationand understanding of the world.

As a result,Diderot didn’t seek to abolish it,but imagined that

confusioncould lead us toa new realism!

and identified positiveand productive forms of confusion:

IIE V E N D E N I S D I D E R O T ,(the inventor of the Encyclopedia),did not consider confusionto be the enemy of knowledge.He saw, beyond good or bad,confusion as the conditionthat defines all of us.

IN A DARK ROOM…xviii

As a result,Diderot didn’t seek to abolish it,but imagined that

confusioncould lead us toa new realism!

and identified positiveand productive forms of confusion:

IIE V E N D E N I S D I D E R O T ,(the inventor of the Encyclopedia),did not consider confusionto be the enemy of knowledge.He saw, beyond good or bad,confusion as the conditionthat defines all of us.

IN A DARK ROOM…xviii

for if understanding the world required “breakingdown (‘démêler’ and ‘décomposer’ […]) any subject

In his Letter on the Blind (1749), Diderotembraced the confusion of the blind man,

for if understanding the world required “breakingdown (‘démêler’ and ‘décomposer’ […]) any subject

In his Letter on the Blind (1749), Diderotembraced the confusion of the blind man,

in an orderly fashion (‘composer’) without skippingany steps,” then the blind man—

to its original, elemental components and then put-ting them back together again

IN A DARK ROOM…

in an orderly fashion (‘composer’) without skippingany steps,” then the blind man—

to its original, elemental components and then put-ting them back together again

IN A DARK ROOM…

In 1817,the Romantic poet John Keats spoke of

NEGATIVE CAPABILITY,

the ability to tolerate—and even enjoy—the experi-ence of confusion or doubt.

All of a sudden it struck mewhat quality went to formaman of acheivement:I mean negative capability,when aman is capable of beingin uncertainties, mysteries, doubts,without any irritable reachingafter fact and reason.

The sense of beautyobliterates all consideration.

with his superior powers of abstractionand speculation—

can do it best.

In 1817,the Romantic poet John Keats spoke of

NEGATIVE CAPABILITY,

the ability to tolerate—and even enjoy—the experi-ence of confusion or doubt.

All of a sudden it struck mewhat quality went to formaman of acheivement:I mean negative capability,when aman is capable of beingin uncertainties, mysteries, doubts,without any irritable reachingafter fact and reason.

The sense of beautyobliterates all consideration.

with his superior powers of abstractionand speculation—

can do it best.

IIII N 2 0 0 2 , a gallery of over 20,000 square feet*, artistDavid Hammons simply shut off all the lights and hand-ed visitors small keychain flashlights. Although it wouldprobably take hours or days to be absolutely sure of it,equipped only with their tiny blue light, most viewerssoon realized there was nothing at all in the space.Some joked it was a visual art exhibition that blind peo-ple could relate to. Others feared they would get lost inthe vast darkness and never find their way out. But asWalter Benjamin taught us and Hammons reminds us,the only way to fully present is to be lost.

*Bill Gates’s new mansion comprises 20,000 square feetof living space, with another 20,000 for guest house,sports courts, gardens and garage.The Natomo family of Kouakourou, Mali: 11 people

(father, two wives, eight children), 990 square feet.The wives live in separate houses, but do most cookingand childcare together.

A century later,in the 1950s,French philosopher Georges Bataille would go fur-

ther still and insist that the experience of not-knowing isone that causes not only laughter, but an exhilarationsimilar to a religious experience. He would call thisbeautiful thing nonknowledge, using a term that placesnot-knowing inside the fabric of knowledge, and notoutside of or in contradiction to it. Nonknowledge is“the passion for not-knowing,” which is not ignorance,but a type of knowledge, one of the ways we come toappreciate, enjoy, and know the world.

If Bataille resisted the oppressiveness of moral ide-alism and absolute knowledge, we rise up again todayagainst the omnipresence of information and stand indefense of the blind man, his speculative and inquisitivespirit, his endless curiosity, and his nonknowledge ofthe world.

The best explanations might be the onesthat keep us somewhat in the dark.

IN A DARK ROOM…

IIII N 2 0 0 2 , a gallery of over 20,000 square feet*, artistDavid Hammons simply shut off all the lights and hand-ed visitors small keychain flashlights. Although it wouldprobably take hours or days to be absolutely sure of it,equipped only with their tiny blue light, most viewerssoon realized there was nothing at all in the space.Some joked it was a visual art exhibition that blind peo-ple could relate to. Others feared they would get lost inthe vast darkness and never find their way out. But asWalter Benjamin taught us and Hammons reminds us,the only way to fully present is to be lost.

*Bill Gates’s new mansion comprises 20,000 square feetof living space, with another 20,000 for guest house,sports courts, gardens and garage.The Natomo family of Kouakourou, Mali: 11 people

(father, two wives, eight children), 990 square feet.The wives live in separate houses, but do most cookingand childcare together.

A century later,in the 1950s,French philosopher Georges Bataille would go fur-

ther still and insist that the experience of not-knowing isone that causes not only laughter, but an exhilarationsimilar to a religious experience. He would call thisbeautiful thing nonknowledge, using a term that placesnot-knowing inside the fabric of knowledge, and notoutside of or in contradiction to it. Nonknowledge is“the passion for not-knowing,” which is not ignorance,but a type of knowledge, one of the ways we come toappreciate, enjoy, and know the world.

If Bataille resisted the oppressiveness of moral ide-alism and absolute knowledge, we rise up again todayagainst the omnipresence of information and stand indefense of the blind man, his speculative and inquisitivespirit, his endless curiosity, and his nonknowledge ofthe world.

The best explanations might be the onesthat keep us somewhat in the dark.

IN A DARK ROOM…

The answers he receives leave himsomewhat in the dark:

IVI N A M U S E U M O F H I S O W N I N V E N T I O N ,theMusée d’ Art Moderne,Departement des Aigles,Belgian artist Marcel Broodthaers sought an explana-tion of a painting by interviewing his cat.

Est-ce quec’est un bo

n tableau,

celui-là…? est-ce qu

correspondà ce que vo

attendez…de cette tr

formationtoute récen

qui va duConceptua

à cette nouvelle versi

d’une certaine figura

tion, pourrait-on dir

– Is this one a good painting…does it correspond withwhat you expected… this recent transformation fromConceptual Art to this, one could say, new version ofa certain kind of figuration?

– Me-ow

The answers he receives leave himsomewhat in the dark:

IVI N A M U S E U M O F H I S O W N I N V E N T I O N ,theMusée d’ Art Moderne,Departement des Aigles,Belgian artist Marcel Broodthaers sought an explana-tion of a painting by interviewing his cat.

Est-ce quec’est un bo

n tableau,

celui-là…? est-ce qu

correspondà ce que vo

attendez…de cette tr

formationtoute récen

qui va duConceptua

à cette nouvelle versi

d’une certaine figura

tion, pourrait-on dir

– Is this one a good painting…does it correspond withwhat you expected… this recent transformation fromConceptual Art to this, one could say, new version ofa certain kind of figuration?

– Me-ow

Inside it, asking a catfor its opinionon the merits of a paintingis an entirely plausible exercise.

We could only be in Broodthaers’ ownconceptual museum, a place he created to evoke,dissect, and ultimately puncturethe categories of knowledge.

IN A DARK ROOM…

Vous croyez?

– You really think so?

Meeeeaaaaaooooww.

Mmmmmmmmhhh

MeeAAAAAow.

Inside it, asking a catfor its opinionon the merits of a paintingis an entirely plausible exercise.

We could only be in Broodthaers’ ownconceptual museum, a place he created to evoke,dissect, and ultimately puncturethe categories of knowledge.

IN A DARK ROOM…

Vous croyez?

– You really think so?

Meeeeaaaaaooooww.

Mmmmmmmmhhh

MeeAAAAAow.

VI N 1 8 8 2 , well before Malevich, the poet Paul Bilhaudmade the first monochrome in the history of art, a smallblack painting entitled “Negroes Fighting in a Cave byNight.” Appropriating the concept, the humoristAlphonse Allais made a series of illustrations for theSalon des Incohérents in 1883 and 1884, including ablank white piece entitled “First Communion ofAnaemic Young Girls in the Snow,” and a red pieceentitled “Apoplectic Cardinals Harvesting Tomatoes onthe Shore of the Red Sea.”

Sad coincidence: the biography by Alphonse Allais, writtenby François Caradec, was the last book Marcel Duchampread before he died.

Happy coincidence: Bilaud and Allais’ favorite hauntwas Le Chat Noir, epicenter of Parisian bohemian life.Other patrons included artists, writers, and musicianssuch as Paul Verlaine, Claude Debussy, Erik Satie,Paul Signac, and August Strindberg.

IN A DARK ROOM…

Sad coincidence: the biography by Alphonse Allais, writtenby François Caradec, was the last book Marcel Duchampread before he died.

Happy coincidence: Bilaud and Allais’ favorite hauntwas Le Chat Noir, epicenter of Parisian bohemian life.Other patrons included artists, writers, and musicianssuch as Paul Verlaine, Claude Debussy, Erik Satie,Paul Signac, and August Strindberg.

IN A DARK ROOM…

VIMichel Foucault tells us that curiosity“evokes ‘concern;’ it evokes the care one takesfor what exists and could exist;a readiness to find strange and singularwhat surrounds us;

a certain relentlessness to break up our familiaritiesand to regard otherwise the same things;a fervor to grasp what is happening and what passes;a casualness in regard to the traditional hierarchiesof the important and the essential.”

IN A DARK ROOM…

a certain relentlessness to break up our familiaritiesand to regard otherwise the same things;a fervor to grasp what is happening and what passes;a casualness in regard to the traditional hierarchiesof the important and the essential.”

IN A DARK ROOM…

Urs Fischer had beeninvited by a Swiss artmuseum to suggest awork of his that it couldpurchase for its perma-nent collection. Theinvitationwas not toimmediately includeawork of Fischer’s inan exhibition,but tobuy it and commit topreserving it as partof themuseum’s col-lection and incorporateit into the heritageof Swiss culture.

...Which remindsmeof a story:

Urs Fischer had beeninvited by a Swiss artmuseum to suggest awork of his that it couldpurchase for its perma-nent collection. Theinvitationwas not toimmediately includeawork of Fischer’s inan exhibition,but tobuy it and commit topreserving it as partof themuseum’s col-lection and incorporateit into the heritageof Swiss culture.

...Which remindsmeof a story:

An unspoken reason might be that collections are betteroff when they sit still, without needing to be chasedafter in the dark. Ironically, however, a museum is aninstitution intimately and historically tied to the impulseto—and obsession with—chasing things that are hard tofind. The Museum’s Renaissance ancestor, theWunderkammer, or curiosity cabinet, was born out ofthe insatiable desire to own exotic, alien, rare, andalmost-impossible-to-find objects. 16th and 17th cen-tury collectors would travel extensively to far-off lands,in search of the extraordinary and the miraculous.

They would return with prized curiosities – ani-mals, plants, tools, but also paintings and artifacts – anddisplay them in dedicated rooms, filling every spareinch. Guests would visit and wonder in amazement:they had no idea what they were looking at. Crucially,the key to the cabinet’s popularity lies in the fact that itsvisitors could inhabit a place they didn’t understand.People simply enjoyed the experience of not knowingand not understanding.

The artist consideredthe request and thentold themuseum thathewould like to offera newpiece for themto acquire, rather thanto recommend an exist-ingwork. He told themhe had conceived a newpiece for the occasion:

a cat.** In order to permanently own a work by Urs Fischer, themuseum would need to commit to caring for, feeding, pro-tecting, and maintaining a living cat. Security guards mighthave to race down museum hallways, motion-sensors mighttrigger night alarms, and a litter-box might tip over and spillon a Giacometti drawing. With this simple gesture, the artistexposes and short-circuits not only the realities inherent inthe institutionalization of art, but the nature of art itself.Perhaps he also did it because he was curious to see how themuseum would handle it. After much internal deliberation,the museum didn’t go for it, citing technical and administra-tive reasons.

IN A DARK ROOM…

An unspoken reason might be that collections are betteroff when they sit still, without needing to be chasedafter in the dark. Ironically, however, a museum is aninstitution intimately and historically tied to the impulseto—and obsession with—chasing things that are hard tofind. The Museum’s Renaissance ancestor, theWunderkammer, or curiosity cabinet, was born out ofthe insatiable desire to own exotic, alien, rare, andalmost-impossible-to-find objects. 16th and 17th cen-tury collectors would travel extensively to far-off lands,in search of the extraordinary and the miraculous.

They would return with prized curiosities – ani-mals, plants, tools, but also paintings and artifacts – anddisplay them in dedicated rooms, filling every spareinch. Guests would visit and wonder in amazement:they had no idea what they were looking at. Crucially,the key to the cabinet’s popularity lies in the fact that itsvisitors could inhabit a place they didn’t understand.People simply enjoyed the experience of not knowingand not understanding.

The artist consideredthe request and thentold themuseum thathewould like to offera newpiece for themto acquire, rather thanto recommend an exist-ingwork. He told themhe had conceived a newpiece for the occasion:

a cat.** In order to permanently own a work by Urs Fischer, themuseum would need to commit to caring for, feeding, pro-tecting, and maintaining a living cat. Security guards mighthave to race down museum hallways, motion-sensors mighttrigger night alarms, and a litter-box might tip over and spillon a Giacometti drawing. With this simple gesture, the artistexposes and short-circuits not only the realities inherent inthe institutionalization of art, but the nature of art itself.Perhaps he also did it because he was curious to see how themuseum would handle it. After much internal deliberation,the museum didn’t go for it, citing technical and administra-tive reasons.

IN A DARK ROOM…

VIIC H A R L I E C H A P L I N comes to mind. He madecluelessness, confusion, and walking in circles seemendlessly fun. He was also fiercely opposed to the“talkies” and chose to keep making silent movies longafter the industry had adopted sound. For Chaplin, thesilence allowed more space for speculation, and he wasconvinced that people flocked to see a silent film of hisbecause it gave them that exhilarating experience ofnonknowledge and invited them to imagine what thecharacters might be saying. If there were a hundredpeople in the movie theater, there would be a hundreddifferent movies. There is an awesome power, beauty,and generosity to that kind of confusion.

In the face of tragedy, Chaplin managed to stayfunny. Not only did he live through the First WorldWar, the Great Depression, the rise of Hitler, theSecond World War, and McCarthyism, he also mademillions of people laugh about it. Humor can be theGreat Flattener of opposites, confusing good and evil todelightful effect. In Modern Times (1936), the alienat-ing conditions of factory work are opportunities forclumsy but thrilling rides through mazes of machinery.In The Great Dictator (1940), we manage to laugh atHitler. Humor allows for an exaltation or a sublimationof the real.

IN A DARK ROOM…

VIIC H A R L I E C H A P L I N comes to mind. He madecluelessness, confusion, and walking in circles seemendlessly fun. He was also fiercely opposed to the“talkies” and chose to keep making silent movies longafter the industry had adopted sound. For Chaplin, thesilence allowed more space for speculation, and he wasconvinced that people flocked to see a silent film of hisbecause it gave them that exhilarating experience ofnonknowledge and invited them to imagine what thecharacters might be saying. If there were a hundredpeople in the movie theater, there would be a hundreddifferent movies. There is an awesome power, beauty,and generosity to that kind of confusion.

In the face of tragedy, Chaplin managed to stayfunny. Not only did he live through the First WorldWar, the Great Depression, the rise of Hitler, theSecond World War, and McCarthyism, he also mademillions of people laugh about it. Humor can be theGreat Flattener of opposites, confusing good and evil todelightful effect. In Modern Times (1936), the alienat-ing conditions of factory work are opportunities forclumsy but thrilling rides through mazes of machinery.In The Great Dictator (1940), we manage to laugh atHitler. Humor allows for an exaltation or a sublimationof the real.

IN A DARK ROOM…

As different as they may seem,humor and the sublime

• derail the smoothfunctioning of reason;

• construct a rupturebetween expectation andcomprehension;

• ignite an “agitation”of the mind by compellingit to reconcile incon-gruities;

• involve an experi-ence of coming-to-termswith something unrecog-nizable and indeterminate.

As different as they may seem,humor and the sublime

• derail the smoothfunctioning of reason;

• construct a rupturebetween expectation andcomprehension;

• ignite an “agitation”of the mind by compellingit to reconcile incon-gruities;

• involve an experi-ence of coming-to-termswith something unrecog-nizable and indeterminate.

philosopherSimon Critchleyreminds us that

The way to cope with a lapse of cognition

and the glitch of non-understanding, it turns out,is not only by expressing awe and wonder,but also by laughing. Georges Bataille and RobertSmithson would surely agree.

IN A DARK ROOM…

While thinkersfrom Edmund Burke,

to Immanuel Kantto Jean-François Lyotard

all celebrate the aporiaof the sublime,

humoris a mo

re minimal,

less heroic form

of sublimation

Laughteris the fourthdimension

Sublime!

philosopherSimon Critchleyreminds us that

The way to cope with a lapse of cognition

and the glitch of non-understanding, it turns out,is not only by expressing awe and wonder,but also by laughing. Georges Bataille and RobertSmithson would surely agree.

IN A DARK ROOM…

While thinkersfrom Edmund Burke,

to Immanuel Kantto Jean-François Lyotard

all celebrate the aporiaof the sublime,

humoris a mo

re minimal,

less heroic form

of sublimation

Laughteris the fourthdimension

Sublime!

That initial , however, is something artistsoften use to jump-start a more serious proposition. Artcan change the world and become a significant threat tothe rules, and when made part of the spirit of a work ofart, humor can ignite an initial thought-rupture—a firstbreak or incongruity with the real and the sensible—thathelps the aesthetic and political qualities of the worktake flight, inspiring us to reflect seriously on new ideas.

Humor, though, can’t change the world or the way wesee it. Despite its reliance on disruption, humor is per-mitted, as Umberto Eco has noted, because at no stagedoes it truly threaten any rules. Obviously “absurd,”the of the mind that it creates is gone after afew seconds, as soon the laughter dies down.

That initial , however, is something artistsoften use to jump-start a more serious proposition. Artcan change the world and become a significant threat tothe rules, and when made part of the spirit of a work ofart, humor can ignite an initial thought-rupture—a firstbreak or incongruity with the real and the sensible—thathelps the aesthetic and political qualities of the worktake flight, inspiring us to reflect seriously on new ideas.

Humor, though, can’t change the world or the way wesee it. Despite its reliance on disruption, humor is per-mitted, as Umberto Eco has noted, because at no stagedoes it truly threaten any rules. Obviously “absurd,”the of the mind that it creates is gone after afew seconds, as soon the laughter dies down.

RAT: Can you understand me? Do this[grunts] if you can understand me.[Söili grunts twice]

RAT: No, twice means ‘no’. once means‘yes’.[Söili grunts once]

IN A DARK ROOM…

VIIIF O R T H E I R V I D E O The Right Way (1986),Peter Fischli and David Weiss dress up in rat and bearcostumes, and walk through the infinitely beautifulSwiss countryside, through streams and glaciers, stop-ping to consider existential questions along the way.With humor and anguish, Fischli & Weiss’s rat andbear insert themselves into the history of literature andits tradition of tragic-comic pairs struggling to under-stand the world—Flaubert’s Bouvard and Pécuchet,Shakespeare and Stoppard’s Rosencrantz andGuildenstern, Beckett’s Vladimir and Estragon.

RAT: I’m so pleased we’ve found a littleplace where we feel at home, where timegoes by really slowly.[Söili grunts twice]

RAT: Can you understand me? Do this[grunts] if you can understand me.[Söili grunts twice]

RAT: No, twice means ‘no’. once means‘yes’.[Söili grunts once]

IN A DARK ROOM…

VIIIF O R T H E I R V I D E O The Right Way (1986),Peter Fischli and David Weiss dress up in rat and bearcostumes, and walk through the infinitely beautifulSwiss countryside, through streams and glaciers, stop-ping to consider existential questions along the way.With humor and anguish, Fischli & Weiss’s rat andbear insert themselves into the history of literature andits tradition of tragic-comic pairs struggling to under-stand the world—Flaubert’s Bouvard and Pécuchet,Shakespeare and Stoppard’s Rosencrantz andGuildenstern, Beckett’s Vladimir and Estragon.

RAT: I’m so pleased we’ve found a littleplace where we feel at home, where timegoes by really slowly.[Söili grunts twice]

RAT: Shall we turn you over?BEAR: He can’t speak. [turns tortoiseover]

RAT: How kind you are. I’d have done thattoo.BEAR: Small effort, big payoff!

RAT: See, it’s not hard.[Söili grunts twice]

RAT: [notices a tortoise] He’s turned overon his back. Looks cross.BEAR: Awful – at everyone’s mercy likethat.

RAT: Shall we turn you over?BEAR: He can’t speak. [turns tortoiseover]

RAT: How kind you are. I’d have done thattoo.BEAR: Small effort, big payoff!

RAT: See, it’s not hard.[Söili grunts twice]

RAT: [notices a tortoise] He’s turned overon his back. Looks cross.BEAR: Awful – at everyone’s mercy likethat.

IXGustave Flaubert’s Bouvard andPécuchet were the most learnedof men: a pair of copy clerkswho flee to the rural country-side so that they could read asmany books as possible and

thereby learn the world’s knowledge. After hundreds ofvolumes of scientific research, historical scholarship,and even technical manuals, they experience only catas-trophe after catastrophe, and realize that the endlesspursuit of knowledge can only be a journey of misstepsand contradictions. In what he called his “encyclopediaof human stupidity,” Flaubert was revolting against thelaziness of accepting “received ideas” without question,and he paraded his protagonists as archetypes of aworld where misguided “sophistication” obstructs thefreedom of independent thought.

With its assault on, and ridicule of theEnlightenment’s encyclopedic ambitions, scientific dis-coveries, and age of Reason, Flaubert’s Bouvard etPécuchet (1880) signaled the beginning of modernity.The fact that the modern age of skepticism, irreverence,revolution, and progress began with two idiots is morethan a funny detail: to understand the world, there is alot to unlearn.

IN A DARK ROOM…

RAT: ‘Bye mate. Look how pleased he is.He can hardly believe it.BEAR: Good job we’re here.

RAT: Let’s do it again sometime.BEAR: Makes you feel good.

IXGustave Flaubert’s Bouvard andPécuchet were the most learnedof men: a pair of copy clerkswho flee to the rural country-side so that they could read asmany books as possible and

thereby learn the world’s knowledge. After hundreds ofvolumes of scientific research, historical scholarship,and even technical manuals, they experience only catas-trophe after catastrophe, and realize that the endlesspursuit of knowledge can only be a journey of misstepsand contradictions. In what he called his “encyclopediaof human stupidity,” Flaubert was revolting against thelaziness of accepting “received ideas” without question,and he paraded his protagonists as archetypes of aworld where misguided “sophistication” obstructs thefreedom of independent thought.

With its assault on, and ridicule of theEnlightenment’s encyclopedic ambitions, scientific dis-coveries, and age of Reason, Flaubert’s Bouvard etPécuchet (1880) signaled the beginning of modernity.The fact that the modern age of skepticism, irreverence,revolution, and progress began with two idiots is morethan a funny detail: to understand the world, there is alot to unlearn.

IN A DARK ROOM…

RAT: ‘Bye mate. Look how pleased he is.He can hardly believe it.BEAR: Good job we’re here.

RAT: Let’s do it again sometime.BEAR: Makes you feel good.

Inside the hat are hun-dreds of small drawers,each containing a smallrelic of a recollection.Weighed down by toomanymemories, hewalks from village tovillagewith awalkingstick, a carpet, and amegaphone, trying toshare asmany storieshe possibly can, so asto relieve the confusionin his head/hat.

XO N C E there wasa journeyman, who,instead of wanderingthe world to gathernew information andcure the ignorance ofmankind, is plaguedwith knowing too much.To help himself catego-rize and organize thevast knowledge he hasof the world, he makeshis head bigger bywearing a very tall hat.

Inside the hat are hun-dreds of small drawers,each containing a smallrelic of a recollection.Weighed down by toomanymemories, hewalks from village tovillagewith awalkingstick, a carpet, and amegaphone, trying toshare asmany storieshe possibly can, so asto relieve the confusionin his head/hat.

XO N C E there wasa journeyman, who,instead of wanderingthe world to gathernew information andcure the ignorance ofmankind, is plaguedwith knowing too much.To help himself catego-rize and organize thevast knowledge he hasof the world, he makeshis head bigger bywearing a very tall hat.

XIF A C E D W I T H the unruly contradictions in natureand the unpredictability of human fancy and intuition,man has long sought the secret harmony of a theory ofeverything. Somehow, the thinking goes, everything isconnected, and there must be a single characteristic thatunderlies all phenomena. Einstein tried, and failed, toreconcile the differences between the behaviors ofthings very large and those very small, but one day, per-haps, we will have an eloquent equation that explainseverything in a few strokes on a chalkboard.

In the meantime, there are Matt Mullican’s fiveworlds, spanning the material to the symbolic. Albeitrooted in idiosyncrasy, obsession, and personal experi-ence, his neat dissection of reality includes what he callsthe subjective, the language, the world-framed, theworld-unframed, and the elemental worlds. Each onehas its color, its flag, and its place on a diagram. In all,they form Mullican’s personal cosmology, his responseto the demand for a universal language: “the impulse tomake a new language is a strong one. Kids do this all thetime.”

IN A DARK ROOM…

Assembling the inha-bitants of each town,he unrolls his carpetand tries to expressand unravel themillionsofmemories that cloghismind,hoping thatpassing themon to oth-ers will help him leavethembehind, forgetthem,unlearn them.

XIF A C E D W I T H the unruly contradictions in natureand the unpredictability of human fancy and intuition,man has long sought the secret harmony of a theory ofeverything. Somehow, the thinking goes, everything isconnected, and there must be a single characteristic thatunderlies all phenomena. Einstein tried, and failed, toreconcile the differences between the behaviors ofthings very large and those very small, but one day, per-haps, we will have an eloquent equation that explainseverything in a few strokes on a chalkboard.

In the meantime, there are Matt Mullican’s fiveworlds, spanning the material to the symbolic. Albeitrooted in idiosyncrasy, obsession, and personal experi-ence, his neat dissection of reality includes what he callsthe subjective, the language, the world-framed, theworld-unframed, and the elemental worlds. Each onehas its color, its flag, and its place on a diagram. In all,they form Mullican’s personal cosmology, his responseto the demand for a universal language: “the impulse tomake a new language is a strong one. Kids do this all thetime.”

IN A DARK ROOM…

Assembling the inha-bitants of each town,he unrolls his carpetand tries to expressand unravel themillionsofmemories that cloghismind,hoping thatpassing themon to oth-ers will help him leavethembehind, forgetthem,unlearn them.

mate, the human.

“Photography, whatever its source, is about nevergetting the whole picture,” a critic astutely noted.Taking and collecting thousands of pictures of thou-sands of things, Feldmann creates meaning by widen-ing—not narrowing—the gap between knowledge andits image.

It seems appropriate, therefore, that Feldmann’sresponse to an interview request from Avalanche in the1970s, consisted of photographs.

XIIWe all share a basic human urge: to select, collect, cate-gorize, organize, and make the world more manageable.Over the course of history, there have been differentmethods of doing so, in the context of different socio-political and historical realities, ranging from Diderot’sencyclopedia, to Aby Warburg’s Mnemosyne Atlas, to achild’s seashell and marble collections. A trait shared byall of them, however, is that they’re incomplete. Nomatter how many libraries they fill, the vast majority ofthought and phenomena known (and unknown) to manwill be missing—an idea quite poetically addressed byBorges’ Library of Babel (1941). No matter how manymillion pages are created on Wikipedia, they containonly a fraction of what exists.

Take, say, a strawberry. Beyond general characteris-tics such as size, smell, taste, biological make-up, evolu-tionary genealogy, agricultural history, nutritional data,and so on, there is also the blunt reality that there are notwo identical strawberries. As John Cage warned us,“it’s useless to pretend to know mushrooms.” Bumpingup against its own inherent incompleteness is part ofwhat knowledge is about. Hans-Peter Feldmann, asmuch an obsessive collector as he is an artist, wants tocome to terms with our relationship to things and topictures of things, in an age dominated by images, byfavoring the trivial, the common, the stupid, the illegiti-

mate, the human.

“Photography, whatever its source, is about nevergetting the whole picture,” a critic astutely noted.Taking and collecting thousands of pictures of thou-sands of things, Feldmann creates meaning by widen-ing—not narrowing—the gap between knowledge andits image.

It seems appropriate, therefore, that Feldmann’sresponse to an interview request from Avalanche in the1970s, consisted of photographs.

XIIWe all share a basic human urge: to select, collect, cate-gorize, organize, and make the world more manageable.Over the course of history, there have been differentmethods of doing so, in the context of different socio-political and historical realities, ranging from Diderot’sencyclopedia, to Aby Warburg’s Mnemosyne Atlas, to achild’s seashell and marble collections. A trait shared byall of them, however, is that they’re incomplete. Nomatter how many libraries they fill, the vast majority ofthought and phenomena known (and unknown) to manwill be missing—an idea quite poetically addressed byBorges’ Library of Babel (1941). No matter how manymillion pages are created on Wikipedia, they containonly a fraction of what exists.

Take, say, a strawberry. Beyond general characteris-tics such as size, smell, taste, biological make-up, evolu-tionary genealogy, agricultural history, nutritional data,and so on, there is also the blunt reality that there are notwo identical strawberries. As John Cage warned us,“it’s useless to pretend to know mushrooms.” Bumpingup against its own inherent incompleteness is part ofwhat knowledge is about. Hans-Peter Feldmann, asmuch an obsessive collector as he is an artist, wants tocome to terms with our relationship to things and topictures of things, in an age dominated by images, byfavoring the trivial, the common, the stupid, the illegiti-

ballooning out, slipping out of their hands, as thoughthey had made a solid into a liquid. Fully understandingwhat they made would like cutting off its wings.

“Maybe we could consider the practice of art asbeing an other kind of knowing, a kind of knowing thatoperates against itself – an always slippery yet con-frontational process of daring to touch what can neverbe entirely know. […] I tend to think that an artist doesnot know, at least not apriori nor in an absolute sense.An artist unstitches knowledges or unearths others,uncanny or para-knowledges. […] The artist has anunknowability: the ability to unknow.”

IN A DARK ROOM…

XIIIWith that in mind, let’s recognize the importance of notunderstanding—or at least of not forming a consensusaround understanding—a work of art. Not-knowing isnot only part of knowledge, but also part of learning,and being confused encourages speculative thinking. Awork of art, thankfully, opens up that world of non-knowledge and helps to make sure we don’t lose sight ofit, keeping us curious.

Bruce Nauman once noted that artists don’t solveproblems, they invent new ones. Joseph Beuys stated,quite plainly, that art isn’t here to explain things. RobertRauschenberg told us he couldn’t live without confu-sion. Bruno Munari, even more to the point:

Artists—like all of us—have the urge to understandthe world, but “in order to think new thoughts or to saynew things, we have to break up all our ready-madeideas and shuffle the pieces.” An artwork can help usunlearn by taking something we’ve learned and under-stood about the world and puncture it, compromise it,complicate it, making a solution into a problem again.Artists often talk about when they stop knowing whatthe work is about, or when their own explanation does-n’t exhaust the work, and they feel it going elsewhere,

ballooning out, slipping out of their hands, as thoughthey had made a solid into a liquid. Fully understandingwhat they made would like cutting off its wings.

“Maybe we could consider the practice of art asbeing an other kind of knowing, a kind of knowing thatoperates against itself – an always slippery yet con-frontational process of daring to touch what can neverbe entirely know. […] I tend to think that an artist doesnot know, at least not apriori nor in an absolute sense.An artist unstitches knowledges or unearths others,uncanny or para-knowledges. […] The artist has anunknowability: the ability to unknow.”

IN A DARK ROOM…

XIIIWith that in mind, let’s recognize the importance of notunderstanding—or at least of not forming a consensusaround understanding—a work of art. Not-knowing isnot only part of knowledge, but also part of learning,and being confused encourages speculative thinking. Awork of art, thankfully, opens up that world of non-knowledge and helps to make sure we don’t lose sight ofit, keeping us curious.

Bruce Nauman once noted that artists don’t solveproblems, they invent new ones. Joseph Beuys stated,quite plainly, that art isn’t here to explain things. RobertRauschenberg told us he couldn’t live without confu-sion. Bruno Munari, even more to the point:

Artists—like all of us—have the urge to understandthe world, but “in order to think new thoughts or to saynew things, we have to break up all our ready-madeideas and shuffle the pieces.” An artwork can help usunlearn by taking something we’ve learned and under-stood about the world and puncture it, compromise it,complicate it, making a solution into a problem again.Artists often talk about when they stop knowing whatthe work is about, or when their own explanation does-n’t exhaust the work, and they feel it going elsewhere,

form of noisy research. Often set up like a laboratory,they contain in their physical form the reality of beingflimsy, provisional, and subject to change: ladders bal-ance on buckets; lights hang from strings; water flowsthrough aluminum trays; metal clamps kind of holdthings together. His research topics mirror this reality aswell, and Bailey examines the makeshift solutions, pro-visional structures, self-organization, itinerant living,and do-it-yourself manuals of survivalist tactics. Life offthe grid, he implies, involves a higher tolerance fornoise, and therefore creates an inspiring context formaking art.

XIVOnce again: “in order to think new thoughts or to saynew things, we have to break up all our ready-madeideas and shuffle the pieces.”

As makers and thinkers of new things, many artiststoday consider part of their responsibility to be the dis-organization of knowledge and information. In the tra-ditional diagram of information theory, for example, atransmitter sends a signal—information—over a channelto a receiver. On its way, however, it encounters “noise,”or “entropy,” which is considered a natural inevitability.Communication science is essentially an exercise innoise-management, and engineers hope to design trans-mission channels that prevent noise from obstructingthe messages.

In the field of information disorganization, howev-er, noise is a friend, not a foe. Art that inserts noise intoa system of knowledge will, hopefully, succeed in break-ing up its ready-made ideas and in reshuffling its pieces.What emerges is a noisy kind of knowledge, one thatembraces the playful unruliness of the world. Research,in art, is a noisy research, where explanations are neces-sarily flimsy, provisional, and always subject to change.

Dave Hullfish Bailey’s sprawling installations are a

form of noisy research. Often set up like a laboratory,they contain in their physical form the reality of beingflimsy, provisional, and subject to change: ladders bal-ance on buckets; lights hang from strings; water flowsthrough aluminum trays; metal clamps kind of holdthings together. His research topics mirror this reality aswell, and Bailey examines the makeshift solutions, pro-visional structures, self-organization, itinerant living,and do-it-yourself manuals of survivalist tactics. Life offthe grid, he implies, involves a higher tolerance fornoise, and therefore creates an inspiring context formaking art.

XIVOnce again: “in order to think new thoughts or to saynew things, we have to break up all our ready-madeideas and shuffle the pieces.”

As makers and thinkers of new things, many artiststoday consider part of their responsibility to be the dis-organization of knowledge and information. In the tra-ditional diagram of information theory, for example, atransmitter sends a signal—information—over a channelto a receiver. On its way, however, it encounters “noise,”or “entropy,” which is considered a natural inevitability.Communication science is essentially an exercise innoise-management, and engineers hope to design trans-mission channels that prevent noise from obstructingthe messages.

In the field of information disorganization, howev-er, noise is a friend, not a foe. Art that inserts noise intoa system of knowledge will, hopefully, succeed in break-ing up its ready-made ideas and in reshuffling its pieces.What emerges is a noisy kind of knowledge, one thatembraces the playful unruliness of the world. Research,in art, is a noisy research, where explanations are neces-sarily flimsy, provisional, and always subject to change.

Dave Hullfish Bailey’s sprawling installations are a

XVIAnd again: “In order to think new thoughts or to saynew things, we have to break up all our ready-madeideas and shuffle the pieces.”

To break and re-shuffle ideas is an intensely politi-cal project. Change, as Barack Obama promised, is nec-essary, but never easy. Accompanying every revolutionand emancipatory movement is a process of exposingand breaking the habits of learning, and is a challenge toits power structures, conditions, and infrastructures. Atleast in part, a political protest declares the urgency ofunlearning.

IN A DARK ROOM…

XVAs information theory shows, noise enters a systemwhile a signal is in transit. In the context of art, anobject might be exposed to a similar vulnerability whenit transforms from one category to another. During aperformance, for instance, a sculpture might turn into aword. A category’s most fragile moment—when it’smost susceptible to being broken apart—is when it’scaught in mid-motion between one identity and anoth-er.

This insight has informed Falke Pisano’s questionsabout how language wraps itself around abstract ideas.Drawn to the alchemic state of transformation betweenartistic forms, she has performed, for example, Turninga Sculpture into a Conversation (2006), literally makingabstract sculptures into abstract ideas. In Chillida(Forms and Feelings (2006), she follows the trail of abusinessman, the photographs he takes of sculptures, abook he published of them, and the emotional respons-es she experiences as its reader. The act of interpreta-tion—where one subjectivity interferes with another—takes on a visual form, and, like a radio dial caughtbetween two stations, things gets noisy.

XVIAnd again: “In order to think new thoughts or to saynew things, we have to break up all our ready-madeideas and shuffle the pieces.”

To break and re-shuffle ideas is an intensely politi-cal project. Change, as Barack Obama promised, is nec-essary, but never easy. Accompanying every revolutionand emancipatory movement is a process of exposingand breaking the habits of learning, and is a challenge toits power structures, conditions, and infrastructures. Atleast in part, a political protest declares the urgency ofunlearning.

IN A DARK ROOM…

XVAs information theory shows, noise enters a systemwhile a signal is in transit. In the context of art, anobject might be exposed to a similar vulnerability whenit transforms from one category to another. During aperformance, for instance, a sculpture might turn into aword. A category’s most fragile moment—when it’smost susceptible to being broken apart—is when it’scaught in mid-motion between one identity and anoth-er.

This insight has informed Falke Pisano’s questionsabout how language wraps itself around abstract ideas.Drawn to the alchemic state of transformation betweenartistic forms, she has performed, for example, Turninga Sculpture into a Conversation (2006), literally makingabstract sculptures into abstract ideas. In Chillida(Forms and Feelings (2006), she follows the trail of abusinessman, the photographs he takes of sculptures, abook he published of them, and the emotional respons-es she experiences as its reader. The act of interpreta-tion—where one subjectivity interferes with another—takes on a visual form, and, like a radio dial caughtbetween two stations, things gets noisy.

the map itself—our own consciousness—and begin toexamine our own assumptions, question what we havelearned about the world, and consider unlearning partof it and reshuffling some of its pieces.

Slightly redrawn, our map might then provide aplace for the art object and allow us to appreciate andunderstand it better. As an agent that can demand andeffect this shift in perception, awareness, and conscious-ness, art can be a powerful political force.

Art can become relevant to this political processwithout necessarily involving any explicit political rep-resentation. In his foreword to the well-titled exhibitionThings We Don’t Understand, curated by Roger M.Buergel and Ruth Noack, Generali FoundationPresident Diedrich Kramer notes that

A work of art establishes a state of potentiality,challenging us to change or readjust the way we under-stand the world. Faced with an object or image wedon’t understand, we seek an explanation within ourexisting epistemological map. When none emerges andour confusions aren’t reconciled, we can then turn to

the map itself—our own consciousness—and begin toexamine our own assumptions, question what we havelearned about the world, and consider unlearning partof it and reshuffling some of its pieces.

Slightly redrawn, our map might then provide aplace for the art object and allow us to appreciate andunderstand it better. As an agent that can demand andeffect this shift in perception, awareness, and conscious-ness, art can be a powerful political force.

Art can become relevant to this political processwithout necessarily involving any explicit political rep-resentation. In his foreword to the well-titled exhibitionThings We Don’t Understand, curated by Roger M.Buergel and Ruth Noack, Generali FoundationPresident Diedrich Kramer notes that

A work of art establishes a state of potentiality,challenging us to change or readjust the way we under-stand the world. Faced with an object or image wedon’t understand, we seek an explanation within ourexisting epistemological map. When none emerges andour confusions aren’t reconciled, we can then turn to

XVIIB E Y O N D P O L I T I C S , the concept of learning,unlearning, and re-learning has often been tied to theprocess of liberation and emancipation. While JohnDewey, in the 1890s and the early 20th century, insistedon an anti-authoritarian and democratic educationbased on active student involvement and experiences,his call for pedagogical reform remained outside thecontext of radical politics.

However, his work influenced the Brazilian Paulo Friere,whose ideas were conceived in the wake of a militarycoup that overthrew the socialist government in Brazil in1964. During his exile in Chile, and in the face of a mili-tary dictatorship in his home country, Friere wrote

IN A DARK ROOM…

The final responsibility, however, lies with theviewer, as only he or she can be the one who uses thisnewfound awareness to enact political change andremake the world. In the headlining quotation of thebrochure that accompanied Buergel and Noack’s muchlarger “version” of the aforementioned Things WeDon’t Understand, namely, 2007’s Documenta 12,Buergel writes:

XVIIB E Y O N D P O L I T I C S , the concept of learning,unlearning, and re-learning has often been tied to theprocess of liberation and emancipation. While JohnDewey, in the 1890s and the early 20th century, insistedon an anti-authoritarian and democratic educationbased on active student involvement and experiences,his call for pedagogical reform remained outside thecontext of radical politics.

However, his work influenced the Brazilian Paulo Friere,whose ideas were conceived in the wake of a militarycoup that overthrew the socialist government in Brazil in1964. During his exile in Chile, and in the face of a mili-tary dictatorship in his home country, Friere wrote

IN A DARK ROOM…

The final responsibility, however, lies with theviewer, as only he or she can be the one who uses thisnewfound awareness to enact political change andremake the world. In the headlining quotation of thebrochure that accompanied Buergel and Noack’s muchlarger “version” of the aforementioned Things WeDon’t Understand, namely, 2007’s Documenta 12,Buergel writes:

our “tools for conviviality.” Schools, in his view, repre-sent an institutionalized monopoly, thereby sustainingthe institutionalization of society in general, and need tobe eliminated in favor of learning networks and informalone-on-one arrangements. As the title of his 1970 bookindicates, he called for “deschooling society.”

This line of thought culminated, in 1987, with JacquesRancière’s The Ignorant Schoolmaster: Five Lessons inIntellectual Emancipation. In it, he argues how the tradi-tional teacher-student relationship does nothing but rein-force inequality, “stultifying” the learner: a non-emanci-pated student “is the one who ignores that he does notknow what he does not know and ignores how to knowit. The master is not only he who exactly knows whatremains unknown to the ignorance, [but] he also knowshow to make it knowable, at what time and what place,

Pedagogy of the Oppressed (1968), an influential trea-tise on self-empowerment through education, with polit-ical freedom at stake. Building on Dewey’s case for anti-authoritarian teaching and for a student’s active involve-ment in his or her own education, Friere believed it wasthe experience of political unrest that made people wantto learn, as they find themselves bound by the urgencyof playing an active role in (re)making their world.

Fighting an even larger battle, Austrian philosopherIvan Illich sought to expose the dangers of modernindustrialization and its effects on education, medicine,energy, transportation, and economic development.Unlike Friere, Illich believed in capitalism—albeit of asmaller scale than the one we know today—and ratherthan pronouncing its failure, he warned of its perversions.Unchecked industrial monopolies, he wrote, destroy

our “tools for conviviality.” Schools, in his view, repre-sent an institutionalized monopoly, thereby sustainingthe institutionalization of society in general, and need tobe eliminated in favor of learning networks and informalone-on-one arrangements. As the title of his 1970 bookindicates, he called for “deschooling society.”

This line of thought culminated, in 1987, with JacquesRancière’s The Ignorant Schoolmaster: Five Lessons inIntellectual Emancipation. In it, he argues how the tradi-tional teacher-student relationship does nothing but rein-force inequality, “stultifying” the learner: a non-emanci-pated student “is the one who ignores that he does notknow what he does not know and ignores how to knowit. The master is not only he who exactly knows whatremains unknown to the ignorance, [but] he also knowshow to make it knowable, at what time and what place,

Pedagogy of the Oppressed (1968), an influential trea-tise on self-empowerment through education, with polit-ical freedom at stake. Building on Dewey’s case for anti-authoritarian teaching and for a student’s active involve-ment in his or her own education, Friere believed it wasthe experience of political unrest that made people wantto learn, as they find themselves bound by the urgencyof playing an active role in (re)making their world.

Fighting an even larger battle, Austrian philosopherIvan Illich sought to expose the dangers of modernindustrialization and its effects on education, medicine,energy, transportation, and economic development.Unlike Friere, Illich believed in capitalism—albeit of asmaller scale than the one we know today—and ratherthan pronouncing its failure, he warned of its perversions.Unchecked industrial monopolies, he wrote, destroy

In their essay for Things We Don’t Understand, Buergeland Noack claim that an

Freedom and equality, in other words, occur when alearner is made aware of his or her own capacity toknow. So please: be an active learner, be wary of theoppressive forces of institutionalized society, and stayaway from the knowledge of teachers. To stay free,make sure you keep learning, never stop at what you’veunderstood, and stay curious about the things you don’tunderstand.

IN A DARK ROOM…

according to what protocol.” A student is held captive byhis or her reliance on explanations, because “the childwho is explained to will devote his intelligence to thework of grieving: that is to say, to understanding that hedoesn’t understand unless he is explained to.”Rancière insists on the equality of all intelligences and

considers the central goal of education to be the revela-tion of an intelligence to itself—and not the gift of a pre-ordained “knowledge.” Rancière discusses the emancipa-tory potential in teachers remaining ignorant of what theyteach, and act instead as enforcers and verifiers of the stu-dent’s own will-to-learn. It is the experience of learning—the doing—that matters, not the knowing of teaching.Moreover, “the student of the ignorant master learns whathis master does not know, since […] he does not learn hismaster’s knowledge.” John Dewey would be proud.

In their essay for Things We Don’t Understand, Buergeland Noack claim that an

Freedom and equality, in other words, occur when alearner is made aware of his or her own capacity toknow. So please: be an active learner, be wary of theoppressive forces of institutionalized society, and stayaway from the knowledge of teachers. To stay free,make sure you keep learning, never stop at what you’veunderstood, and stay curious about the things you don’tunderstand.

IN A DARK ROOM…

according to what protocol.” A student is held captive byhis or her reliance on explanations, because “the childwho is explained to will devote his intelligence to thework of grieving: that is to say, to understanding that hedoesn’t understand unless he is explained to.”Rancière insists on the equality of all intelligences and

considers the central goal of education to be the revela-tion of an intelligence to itself—and not the gift of a pre-ordained “knowledge.” Rancière discusses the emancipa-tory potential in teachers remaining ignorant of what theyteach, and act instead as enforcers and verifiers of the stu-dent’s own will-to-learn. It is the experience of learning—the doing—that matters, not the knowing of teaching.Moreover, “the student of the ignorant master learns whathis master does not know, since […] he does not learn hismaster’s knowledge.” John Dewey would be proud.

By insisting on keeping all hundred of them, the ReggioEmilia method allows the child to insert a beautifullyimpossible cacophony into the fabric of knowledge.Working concurrently in Italy and also working with

children, Bruno Munari was an artist, graphic designer,industrial designer, poet, and illustrator, among otherthings. Incorporating basic shapes…

basic materials…

XVIIIA L S O I N F L U E N C E D by John Dewey was the edu-cator Loris Malaguzzi. Soon after the Second World War—as a primary school teacher near the Italian city of ReggioEmilia—he started a child-care program that became apedagogical method used in kindergartens around theworld. What is now known as “Reggio Emilia” sees chil-dren as little researchers who strive to understand theworld, making their own theories to explain it, and it isthe teacher’s responsibility to guide a natural curiosityrather than replace it with a knowledge of his/her own.

If a child has a hundred theories in a hundred lan-guages, Malaguzzi lamented how the theft of ninety-nineof them and left the child with only received ideas.

By insisting on keeping all hundred of them, the ReggioEmilia method allows the child to insert a beautifullyimpossible cacophony into the fabric of knowledge.Working concurrently in Italy and also working with

children, Bruno Munari was an artist, graphic designer,industrial designer, poet, and illustrator, among otherthings. Incorporating basic shapes…

basic materials…

XVIIIA L S O I N F L U E N C E D by John Dewey was the edu-cator Loris Malaguzzi. Soon after the Second World War—as a primary school teacher near the Italian city of ReggioEmilia—he started a child-care program that became apedagogical method used in kindergartens around theworld. What is now known as “Reggio Emilia” sees chil-dren as little researchers who strive to understand theworld, making their own theories to explain it, and it isthe teacher’s responsibility to guide a natural curiosityrather than replace it with a knowledge of his/her own.

If a child has a hundred theories in a hundred lan-guages, Malaguzzi lamented how the theft of ninety-nineof them and left the child with only received ideas.

IXXW E T E N D N O T T O T H I N K T W I C E about theoverly familiar, like a chair. An idea, object, or image,when thoroughly commonplace, tends to slip by unex-amined and ignored. But like a sleeper cell, it tends tokeep one side in the shadows. We might be well-servedby “look[ing] around corners in search of the unknownparts of the known.”

So what is a chair? My favorite answer is not JosephKosuth’s, but goes like this:

A philosophy professor putshis chair on his desk andinstructs the class to writea paper that uses everyapplicable thing they’velearned to prove that thischair does not exist. Allof the students immediate-ly start writing theiressays, except for one. Heturns in his paper to theprofessor after only a fewseconds. His answer:

"What chair?"

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and everyday objects…

…Munari stayed curi-ous about the mostcommon things in life.For example, inSearching for Comfort inan UncomfortableArmchair (1977), a seriesof twelve grainy black andwhite photographs, heshows us a man tryingtwelve different ways to sit inan armchair and read hisnewspaper.

IXXW E T E N D N O T T O T H I N K T W I C E about theoverly familiar, like a chair. An idea, object, or image,when thoroughly commonplace, tends to slip by unex-amined and ignored. But like a sleeper cell, it tends tokeep one side in the shadows. We might be well-servedby “look[ing] around corners in search of the unknownparts of the known.”

So what is a chair? My favorite answer is not JosephKosuth’s, but goes like this:

A philosophy professor putshis chair on his desk andinstructs the class to writea paper that uses everyapplicable thing they’velearned to prove that thischair does not exist. Allof the students immediate-ly start writing theiressays, except for one. Heturns in his paper to theprofessor after only a fewseconds. His answer:

"What chair?"

IN A DARK ROOM…

and everyday objects…

…Munari stayed curi-ous about the mostcommon things in life.For example, inSearching for Comfort inan UncomfortableArmchair (1977), a seriesof twelve grainy black andwhite photographs, heshows us a man tryingtwelve different ways to sit inan armchair and read hisnewspaper.

and semioticsmade it

aLinguisticUncertainty

In the old days, we used to saywe understood what a chair is.

Soon enough,phenomenologymade it

a Perceptual Uncertainty

and semioticsmade it

aLinguisticUncertainty

In the old days, we used to saywe understood what a chair is.

Soon enough,phenomenologymade it

a Perceptual Uncertainty

IN A DARK ROOM…

Quantum physics thenlinked the chair to thespace around it, asmade up of a differentconfiguration of identi-cal wave-like particles.

And Schrödinger’s cat made it impossibleto even look at the chair,since our very presenceeffects the configuration of its particles.

IN A DARK ROOM…

Quantum physics thenlinked the chair to thespace around it, asmade up of a differentconfiguration of identi-cal wave-like particles.

And Schrödinger’s cat made it impossibleto even look at the chair,since our very presenceeffects the configuration of its particles.

Clearly stating her position against it in a short but sem-inal 1964 essay, Susan Sontag reminds us that interpre-tation makes art more manageable, more comfortable,and therefore less potent. She writes

“If interpretation is themodernway of under-standing something,[...]then art must be

[...]motivated by a flightfrom interpretation.” *

Sontag’s good friend Donald Barthelme, a writerand frequent contributor to The New Yorker, agrees:“Writing is a process of dealing with not-knowing,”and

* my italics

XXI N T E R P R E TA T I O N can be a dangerous thing.

Clearly stating her position against it in a short but sem-inal 1964 essay, Susan Sontag reminds us that interpre-tation makes art more manageable, more comfortable,and therefore less potent. She writes

“If interpretation is themodernway of under-standing something,[...]then art must be

[...]motivated by a flightfrom interpretation.” *

Sontag’s good friend Donald Barthelme, a writerand frequent contributor to The New Yorker, agrees:“Writing is a process of dealing with not-knowing,”and

* my italics

XXI N T E R P R E TA T I O N can be a dangerous thing.

Will Holder: For the blind man in a dark room looking for a black cat that isn't there.

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Transcript of Will Holder: For the blind man in a dark room looking for a black cat that isn't there.