This quote from the article “Watching Gabriel Orozco’s Box” from guardian.co.uk — about an ordinary shoe box on the floor at the Tate Modern in London — deserves the attention of dull men:
“At the Venice Biennale, where the box was first shown in 1993, people reacted by leaving money in it. At New York’s Museum of Modern Art, where it was last shown, the box was apparently often manhandled. But how is London taking to it? And could an eight-year-old make something better? I spend a day with the box to find out.”
“Box-watching initially proves uneventful . . . .” . . . but then? . . . click here to read the article and find out.
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Thanks for this riviting article. I am in Harrogate today, London tomorrow. I’ll go to the Tate to see this for myself.
This paragraph from the article is right up our alley:
“The box attracts attention through its ordinariness, but for the viewer, this ordinariness is not interesting in itself; only the interaction between the box and the gallery-goer that such ordinariness subsequently seems to allow, and even solicit, is interesting. The gallery, however, is less concerned with what the box’s dullness enacts; its primary interest is the dullness itself. The box is on loan to the Tate; as a result, the gallery’s main concern is that the box remains intact, even if this ends up discouraging the interaction that the box was intended to invite.
Boxes and creativity. I am reminded of a quote from Twyla Tharp, “”Before you can think out of the box, you have to start with a box.” The quote is from her book “The Creative Habit: Learn It and Use It for Life.” In the book she talks about beginning each new creative project with a new box to put it in. I think she said she uses those ordinary, dull Bankers Boxes.