Felix Gonzalez-Torres' Untitled (Perfect Lovers)

        

On Tuesday, we discussed in further detail some of the aesthetic theories that Weitz highlighted in his article, "The Role of Theory in Aesthetics". While talking about EmotionaIism, I made reference to an artwork entitled Untitled (Perfect Lovers) by Felix Gonzalez-Torres, unknowing that most of you had not seen it before. The piece consists of two identical white clocks, set at unison time, that hang side-by-side on the wall. The sculpture is quiet and rather simple, utilizing both the universality and familiarity of a household object, the clock, to invite viewers and welcome spectatorship. Gonzalez-Torres created the piece in 1991 shortly after his partner Ross Laycock was diagnosed with AIDS. Time is intrinsic to the piece both contextually and formally. The clocks eventually begin to tick at differing paces, and one will stop ticking entirely before the other.  It softly and quietly confronts the saddening reality of the AIDS epidemic, where hundreds of thousands of men and women were diagnosed from its discovery in 1981 until well into the 1990s.  In 1991 alone, 45,000 cases of AIDS were reported to the U.S. Center of Disease Control and Prevention.  Men and women were losing their partners and loved ones to the disease everyday. The work embodies a political undertone in its reference to the delayed response by the U.S. Government to publicize the disease and expedite antiretroviral treatments. 

It’s interesting to dissect this artwork after our conversations on Tuesday, particularly in regards to Formalism, Emotionalism, and content.  This piece is highly formal to me and can be enjoyed without knowing the themes fueling its creation. Various works by Felix Gonzalez-Torres operate in that way, in particular his large-scale floor and corner installations consisting of sheets and piles of wrapped candies.  This website has some great images of the one such piece entitled Untitled (Placebo), 1991: http://bit.ly/PRLeos

Museum-goers are welcome to take pieces of candy from the pile, and slowly but surely the piece dwindles in scale as more and more candy is taken.  This engagement from the viewer onto the installation is profound and fantastical, and in and of itself unrelated to the content inherent to the work.  The viewer forms an intimate relationship with the piece via the act of retrieval and consumption; however, the work is routed in Torres’ perceptions of the ineffectiveness of the antiretroviral drugs administered to assist those suffering from the disease, hence the subtitle “Placebo.”  The piece is complexly emotional: the excitement and satisfaction of a viewer retrieving a piece of candy is juxtaposed with Gonzalez-Torres’ inherent sadness and anger surrounding the conception of the piece. Yet, there is an intense rendering of love that emanates throughout the entirety of his work. He has been cited for speaking of making his pieces for one audience only, and that is Ross. 

          I have never encountered one of FG-T’s pieces in person at a museum, but I have witnessed and engaged with similar artworks that work formally and conceptually as take-aways. I’m left wondering: Is it necessary to know the ideas, emotions, and experiences surrounding the creation of a piece of art in order to engage, understand, or form a relationship with it? With Torres, it certainly positions his work within a historical, cultural and conceptual framework, but by no means is it entirely necessary.