is a mixed media limited edition portfolio by 22 artists from around
the world. (signed and numbered edition of 80). Organized by Eugenia Butler,
sponsored by Southern California Institute of Architecture with a dedicated
web site underwritten by the Getty Foundation. "the
book of lies" is the first in a series of planned portfolios.
Participating artist were given no guidelines other than the title, edition
size and the suggestion that work should be flat enough to fit into a portfolio
case.
Collected editions may be viewed at a number of locatins, including
the New York City Library and the Armand Hammer
Museum in Los Angeles.
My contribution consists of written divinations on the subject of lies
and poetic communication ...
click to see sample pages:
background notes -
I was originally invited to participate under the mantle of being a
visual artist, but decided on writing because the disembodied nature of
words has the greatest potential for lying. The inherent manipulation of
text, in particular, reveals itself in restricted, linear glimpses as opposed
to a painting for example, which can be scanned immediately in entirety
with any number of potential beginnings and endings. In addition, unlike
live performance of dance and music or reductive processes such as carved
sculpture which are wedded to the moment of their making, the presentation
of ideas by printed document allows authors nearly absolute power of control
via editing and countless rewrites, creating consequences which are both
good and bad. With this in mind, I further decided to expose the shading
of truth and lies that was playing in my mind and the selective biases
of writing by weaving my internal dialog of self consciousness as I went
along. Specifically, I focused on the unique structure of communicating
anonymously in absentia to an imagined audience and the mechanism of acting
as if it were a private conversation between you and me as two real people
rather than a product of mass media distribution, distance and disjointed
time. I notice that in my mind I conform to an arrangement in which the
writer and reader proceed as if on intimate terms, without the slightest
shred of first hand knowledge regarding each other's veracity or capacity
to deceive.
If I wanted to lie, then repeating one truth ad nausem
would be status quo, but as I am more interested in telling the truth about
lies, I wanted to to foil my own editorship by starting with the same poetic
premise and then reinventing it each time I sat down to write. Theoretically,
to fulfill the edition meant 80 versions as each writing had to be signed
and numbered for separate buyers. The fun begins by announcing in the opening
paragraph that the particular piece of paper being held by the reader is
unique and for them alone. Since a great number of these portfolios were
destined to be sold to collectors, it is probable that most of them would
never be shared in public, which led credence to this approach, as well
as the opportunity for a certain tone of private secrecy. The irony of
the situation is that the reader is already in a bit of a bind about what
to believe by the end of the first sentence because the subject of lying
implies deception and hoax. Since the portfolio was published with the
intention of being distributed throughout different cities and countries,
the likelihood of a reader knowing whether there was one, ten or eighty
versions would be relatively impossible to ascertain. Conversely, creating
only one copy of a poem enclosed inside of a collectible container for
a single unknown person, seemed to heighten my sense of both confession
and futility, as it underscores that there are really no assurances at
all, and the best and finest may never be read by anyone.
The kaleidoscopic reflections of these pages gets further convoluted
now, by its presence on the web, which is (possibly) diametrically opposed
to my original stated intention, turning what was once physically immediate,
tactile, and relatively private into something distanced, neutralized and
exposed. Much to our chagrin, and maybe also to our comfort, the nature
of truth and lies never stops mutating.