Object of the Month: Luis Camnitzer

Many works in the recently opened exhibition, Turn of Phrase: Language and Translation in Global Contemporary Art, showcase how artists have creatively employed language to variously challenge, disrupt, and reimagine structures of knowledge, systems of power, and notions of identity. Luis Camnitzer’s 2011 work, This is a poetic statement. Identify the elements that construct the poem, is one such example that playfully and provocatively prompts us to reconsider how we read language, make meaning, and engage with art and its surroundings.

Camnitzer, a German-born Uruguayan artist, curator, and educator, has dedicated his prolific career to interrogating systems of oppression, pedagogical frameworks, and the intersection between art and social justice. Having been active both as an artist and as an academic, Camnitzer is uniquely attuned to the missions and responsibilities of cultural institutions, as evident in his ongoing A Museum Is a School (2009–present) series, which has graced the façades of numerous museums around the world. It is therefore befitting that The Assignment Books series, to which This is a poetic statement belongs, was originally conceived as a collaborative project for an academic institution—The New School in New York, in conjunction with curators Christiane Paul and Trebor Scholz. The series includes twelve different works, each presenting an object accompanied by a brass plaque that together constitutes an “Assignment” for the public. Audiences are confronted with a set of intellectual puzzles and poetic conundrums, to which they are invited to respond by either pinning notecards or using pencils to write directly on the walls.

In this example, a pedestal holds a stack of bound and mangled books, and the nearby plaque asserts that “this is a poetic statement” and asks viewers to “identify the elements that construct the poem.” The responses are designed to evolve and surround the artwork throughout the course of its exhibition, thus comprising the total work of art throughout the duration of the installation. To Camnitzer, the juxtaposition between mundane objects—in this case, old, randomly selected books which carry no inherent aesthetic value—and the promise of “high art” as signaled by the plaque sets up a conceptual situation, which allows us to grapple with uncertainty and the unknown.

While this work seems directly connected to the legacy of Conceptual art practice, it also serves as a distinctive example in Camnitzer’s rich, autonomous oeuvre. Throughout his five-decade-long career, Camnitzer has repeatedly examined the possibilities of linguistic provocations. For instance, in an earlier work from 1966–68, he presented the prompt “This is a Mirror, You are a Written Sentence” spelled out in black plastic lettering over white synethic board. Camnitzer sets up an intellectual puzzle that invites deconstruction of sentences, syntaxes, and word plays: the semiotic role of “this” as a referential tool that both promises and eschews specificity, while “you” the viewer is at once the work’s addressee as well as the author of its any inferred meanings. In a similar vein, This is a poetic statement seems to provide an established premise of “a poem,” but quickly turning against itself by asking the viewer to prove and identify its basic elements of construction. The work thus opens up fundamental questioning of what makes a poem, creating a fluid, embodied relational space for audiences to ponder on endless possible meanings. 

For art historians, it is perhaps our natural inclination to want to draw connections between This is a poetic statement and other evocative examples found in contemporary art. From Rachel Whiteread’s casting of negative space in library shelves, to Anselm Kiefer’s monumental lead books, to Yinka Shonibare’s volumes wrapped in luscious, colorful textiles, or even to Camnitzer’s own earlier project The Last Book (2007), which envisions a legacy for a human society post book-based culture, books have stood as powerful avenues for investigating time, identity, authority, narrative, and documented histories. Here, Camnitzer has chosen discarded books, which are then slightly controlled and carefully arranged—something the artist refers to as “controlled randomness.” Instead of symbolizing specific literary canons, these books are stripped of their preciousness and instead question how we conceive of and interact with the printed page.

At the same time, one cannot ignore the sheer, stunning physciality of This is a poetic statement; the books are tightly bound by duct tape, their spines cracked and pages yellowed. Various inscriptions and marks are evident throughout, yet they are not entirely legible. Is there a larger metaphor for civilization and culture condensed and fused together under pressure? Is it a testament to the ghostly residue of knowledge through the passage of time? The open-ended nature of Camnitzer’s installation emphasizes that one person’s interpretation, depending on their identities, vantage points, and personal histories, will invariably differ from another’s. That is the beauty of language and the promise of art.

By including this interactive installation in Turn of Phrase, the exhibition also hopes to present new beginnings for how intellectual exchange germinates in cultural and academic settings. The notion of responding to “assignments” makes it particularly relevant to our context as a college museum, where students are constantly examining problems and piecing together solutions. Moreover, the opportunity for people to literally “make their mark” on museum walls promises a different, hopefully more democratic, pathway for connecting the museum to the public as well as for audiences and students to occupy this space and claim their voice.

Sinclaire Ledahl ’23, one of the student Education Assistants working this academic year at the BCMA, has been especially inspired by Camnitzer’s work and its potential to subvert power dynamics within the museum setting. “The ability to see one’s words and the words of others in a museum space can be freeing, making the museum space more democratic and accessible to more individuals,” she writes. “In museums like the BCMA, where viewers are invited to write directly on the wall, the marring of formerly pristine spaces and white walls disrupts the often-oppressive power dynamics inherent in museum experiences.”

Indeed, Sinclaire’s observations about activating museum installations as an opportunity to thoughtfully upset pre-established modes of exchange and dialogue, allowing for the potentially liberatory act in which “museum visitors become co-creators of the art,” also echo Camnitzer’s own intentions behind the series. By attempting to bridge the distance between artist and viewer, these seemingly ambiguous and at times perplexing prompts present an open invitation for both the creator and participants alike. “In this I abandon the traditional declarative stance of the artist/teacher,” Camnitzer says. “I become an unprotected artist/learner.”

We hope that you will visit the Museum to experience, engage with, and respond to Camnitzer’s Assignment, in addition to exploring other works on art on view in Turn of Phrase. The BCMA is excited to add this work to our collection, and we look forward to hosting an upcoming virtual program with the artist in March. Stay tuned for more programming announcements this spring!  

Sabrina Lin ’21
Curatorial Assistant and Manager of Student Programs
 
Sinclaire Ledahl ’23
Academic Year Education Assistant
 
Bowdoin College Museum of Art