"One of the pieces for which he got wide recognition about eight years ago was this billboard project. [It was part of the Museum of Modern Art’s Project Series (“Projects 34: Felix Gonzalez-Torres,” May 16-June 30, 1992.)] Images of an empty bed appeared on commercial billboards around the city. What was great about this piece is that as it was situated in the public domain without any explanatory text, everyone who saw it could interpret the piece differently. For me, it was reminiscent of the Imogen Cunningham bed picture. There was something incredibly sad about it. The implication to me was that now the bed doesn’t have two people in it. Something has happened. Something is missing. Something is absent. To me, I saw it as a testimonial to his lover, who had died. So you don’t literally have the information, it’s completely enigmatic in its way, but it has some sort of lingering emotional impact on you. You bring all of your stuff to it and you go, ‘What’s with that bed? (...) I’m sure for others it has new and different meanings. For me, it is still about the same theme: Our palpable sense of loss in dealing with AIDS." (Something is missing. Something is absent. What's with that bed? W. L. Hunt)Friday, 27 March 2009
Sin Título, 1991, Felix Gonzalez-Torres
"One of the pieces for which he got wide recognition about eight years ago was this billboard project. [It was part of the Museum of Modern Art’s Project Series (“Projects 34: Felix Gonzalez-Torres,” May 16-June 30, 1992.)] Images of an empty bed appeared on commercial billboards around the city. What was great about this piece is that as it was situated in the public domain without any explanatory text, everyone who saw it could interpret the piece differently. For me, it was reminiscent of the Imogen Cunningham bed picture. There was something incredibly sad about it. The implication to me was that now the bed doesn’t have two people in it. Something has happened. Something is missing. Something is absent. To me, I saw it as a testimonial to his lover, who had died. So you don’t literally have the information, it’s completely enigmatic in its way, but it has some sort of lingering emotional impact on you. You bring all of your stuff to it and you go, ‘What’s with that bed? (...) I’m sure for others it has new and different meanings. For me, it is still about the same theme: Our palpable sense of loss in dealing with AIDS." (Something is missing. Something is absent. What's with that bed? W. L. Hunt)
