I go to an exhibition in search of evidence. While I'm at the exhibition, I don't need to read a label or have someone tell me about the art; that would be a different activity. I always view the exhibition very quickly, but from beginning to end. I think there is a beginning and an end; others may claim the opposite. But there's no question that an exhibition like this one starts with its nose to the left, and by the time I get to the table, where I read this statement, I'm halfway through the exhibition, exactly the same way I might be halfway through a sentence. This exhibition is like a sentence. In general, I don't like meeting the artists, unless we have a light- hearted conversation, joking the whole time. I do like to go to exhibitions with a friend, because then we talk, and there's a different kind of concentration. I think I'm very quick to recognize what I like and what I don't, and when I think back afterwards-that evening, or later that week-my opinion can change. What I like best is when the things that didn't appeal to me become the very things that do appeal to me. That's the most powerful experience you can have. I can go back to the exhibition, and then I find evidence there. But evidence of what? The object of criticism.
Text: Lorenzo Benedetti & Benoît Maire
Credit Photo: Leo Van Kampen