Continuouslessness
by Kasia Fudakowski
“It’s not often an artist gets the chance to reflect (gaze) on their work (navel ) to this extent … ”
So begins Kasia Fudakowski’s latest “Autobiographicatalog”, which offers a rare opportunity to read something written by the artist in the first person. The Berlin-based artist has been industrious during the last year, working on her recently opened exhibition at Leopold-Hoesch-Museum in Düren, and authoring The Roll of the Artist, Volume One, now published by Strzelecki Books. The texts trace around 15 years of art making and thinking through anecdotal fragments of her own life and those of others she admires, making this a good moment to look at a large, ongoing, journal-like body of work by Fudakowski, presented both in the exhibition as well as in her publication: her serial gates, entitled Continuouslessness.
The initial piece was incorporated into what became Continuouslessness, at the invitation of artists Michael Elmgreen and Ingar Dragset, who in 2017 curated the 15th Istanbul Biennial, titled A Good Neighbour.
The title Continuouslessness (meaning the continuity of non-continuity) exists as a messy double negative resulting in negative concord, and the sculpture reflects its title’s coalition of chaos. It’s a physical translation of a union of differing parts.
No one panel can stand alone, but relies on its neighbour for structural support. Each panel must fit the hook and ring hinge system placed at a fixed height, but every other conceivable element is unprescribed.
This neither guarantees harmony nor precludes individuality, as a panel may demonstrate a different idea, material or character, as long as it’s able to connect to the previous panel. Even if that means a somewhat awkward joining of hands.
Each human-scale panel is an individual piece, with its own title, story and creative motivation. The panels can be mixed and matched to connect fragmented thoughts, creating new compositions, like words in sentences, and therefore a different significance with each new sequence.
The panels are often not solid surfaces, allowing the exhibition space and the viewer to become a part of the work. A viewer standing behind a panel will appear to wear it like a costume or a mask. A relationship is established, with the work and the viewer affecting one another.
It’s a structure that allows me to explore my preoccupations, embedding anecdotal, theoretical and emotional information into a sculptural chain almost like a diary. Almost like this book. It means I can’t forget or ignore what came before, but I can change the course.
Each caption for each panel contains it’s normal meta-data including the title and materials, but also who contributed to its production and exhibition, and often if not always, the thoughts I had while making it.
