read jjba

I was talking with a friend of mine the other day and we reminded ourselves that Palestine is alive in so many versions in this world and when Palestine is free, it will make a whole new cultural entity that celebrates all sorts of different people. And when I think about that, I cannot help but feel energized anew with the sheer breadth of knowledge and art we can share with one another.

“Untitled (Portrait of Ross in L.A.)”

An installation of candies wrapped in cellophane. Museums or galleries displaying this work agree to replenish the candies daily so that, at opening, the pile always weighs 175lbs, the weight of his lover (Ross Laycock) at his time of death due to complications from AIDS. Viewers of the piece are encouraged to take and consume the candy when they visit.

“Untitled (Perfect Lovers)”

An installation of two clocks that start out as synchronized. Over time, they fall out of sync due to differences in mechanisms, battery life, etc. Our bodies are imperfect mechanisms, regardless or in spite of the strength of our love for each other.

Letter from Felix Gonzalez-Torres to Ross Laycock

When the clocks were installed, they were to touch. The two black-rimmed clocks could be, however, replaced with white store-bought clocks with the same dimensions and design. The two hands, minute and second, were to be set in sync with the awareness that the two hands might eventually go out of sync during display. If one of the clocks required battery replacement, it was to be done, after which the clocks were to be reset at the same time. The clocks were to be exhibited against a wall painted in light blue.

Gonzalez-Torres admitted that the clocks would ultimately fall out of synch, and one sooner or later stopping first. “Time is something that scares me … or used to. This piece made with the two clocks was the scariest thing I have ever done. I wanted to face it. I wanted those two clocks right in front of me, ticking.”

https://publicdelivery.org/felix-gonzalez-torres-clocks/

Gonzalez-Torres’s art was (is) quietly, powerfully confrontational, both in the 80s and 90s when living a queer life (especially as a gay man of color - he was Cuban) was to be under attack/existential threat and now, when so much and so little has changed. His contracts for installation/display also frequently specified that the materials (often impermanent like the candy or otherwise inexpensive - he had a piece that featured plastic beaded curtains) were to be purchased from local suppliers. He enjoyed making the museums and galleries spend money in places they would never ordinarily spend money if they wanted to feature his work.