A lot of art, particularly Conceptual art, requires a suspension of disbelief. How do you know that something is what the artist (or anyone) says it is? You just have to trust them. And, of course, to do that, you have to want to. There’s a participatory expectation on the part of the artist. An invitation to connect, not out of obligation but desire. Not with engrained judgment but openness. What an exciting invitation!
There is a whole genre of invisible art. Sometimes you can feel it, like I Need Some Meaning I Can Memorize (The Invisible Pull), Ryan Gander’s genius wind piece at Documenta in Kassel, Germany, in 2012; sometimes you can smell it, like Anicka Yi’s incredible scent works (one of which was included in her 2021 Tate Modern exhibition); sometimes you just have to allow it to roll around in your brain, like Robert Barry’s phenomenal performance work. I had the honor of participating in one of the latter performances for Peter Eleey’s exhibition Imaginary Thing at the Aspen Art Museum in 2008: I was asked to whisper a secret that only I knew into a hole in the earth. The idea of contending with the invisible seems particularly poignant. And, as always, art is ready to be of service.
