Dear Archivist,
I’m writing to you hoping that you will help take inventory of this sculpture, its parts and structure, in anticipation of its separation.
The sculpture consists of a base and a storage object. It holds data and it holds itself, but you already know that if you’re reading this.
To support you in this endeavour, and in case you’re encountering this data in absence of its physicality, I’ve prepared the following notes:
When held up to a light source, the structure of the base reveals itself.
It has moments of feeling unsettled,
yet its attitude remains calm.
The base’s negative form has two rectangles shyly facing one another, while an ellipse approaches its final destination, but never gets there.
These moments may feel like they are from a different time and somehow they are.
There is a protective block of plastic, solid and kind, that’s constructed of aubergine lines so thin they can only really be perceived by the hand.
The pattern on the back of the base is created by its means of production, arguably creating the most ornamental part of the sculpture.
There are two holes nested within the pattern, intended for nails.
While the base can exist on its own, it only lives up to its purpose when in companionship with the other parts of the sculpture.
The long sides of the storage object are painted with a thin layer of white, which will disappear over time.
Its surface feels like plaster that’s been set on the cool, silver exterior.
Its edges create hard lines that are broken by a circle, creating a void.
If you look into this void, you might discover a scruffy rectangle, its source and purpose unclear.
The data on the storage object is variable, but its structure is somewhat stable.
The first item on it is this text in .txt format, that was edited by the Palais des Beaux Arts.
The second item is a .stl file containing the print instructions for the base of the sculpture, so it can be recreated if the components are separated, destroyed, or both.
The third item My Blood Strangers, is a work by Thomas D. Lonner, edited by Seth Weiner and myself and is in .pdf format.
The last item is a folder with one issue of Chic Parisien in it, scanned as single pages in a lossless print format.
While each sculpture appears to be identical on the surface, the one you’ve received is unique.
Each holds a different issue of
Chic Parisien, with thirty-one
in total.
The issue you now have was part of a larger body of work and is only a fragment of what remains.
It was ripped out by the circumstances of history and archived unsystematically.
Or at least so it seems.
Dear Archivist,
We’ve never met, and maybe never will.
I’m writing to you hoping that you will help take inventory of this sculpture, its parts and structure, in anticipation of its separation.
The sculpture consists of a base and a storage object. It holds data and it holds itself, but you already know that if you’re reading this.
To support you in this endeavour, and in case you’re encountering this data in absence of its physicality, I’ve prepared the following notes:
This is where I need your help, dear archivist.
To assist in preserving and distributing these materials, ensuring the persistence of what otherwise will be lost once again.
Sincerely,
Sophie-Carolin Wagner
Wien, 25 February 2019
Capacity: 8GB
Available: 8643621683.2 bytes
Occupied: 1,355,776 bytes
Courtesy of YuhovesOnline: 643621683.2
Created: Tuesday, 1. January 1980 at 00:00
Palais des Beaux Arts Publishing
- 2.7cm x 6.8cm x 1.3cm
PLA Plastic, Spray Paint, USB Thumb Drive, Data, Set of 31 Sculptures, Edition of 02