Time (4): The scarred particular
Some implications of the moving, three-dimensional web of time
This is the penultimate article in a series of five where I’ve been considering different ways of thinking about time. It’s a series of thought experiments, pushing about with my mind, trying to imagine things. It’s particularly speculative when it comes to thinking about contemporary art, which, as some of you know, I’m very much on the edge of. I’m not claiming any new perspectives, just asking my questions out loud.
In my last-but-one article about the possibilities of using dynamic systems theories to think differently about time, I suggested that:
Every artist is part of this multi-stranded living web through time, whether they like it or not. They can choose to ignore its reality, but they’re still continually being produced by the specifics of their surroundings and by the dynamics of their local conditions; by the particular connections of the circumstances and flows in which every concrete, living thing finds its being.
In contrast to the single thread of a traditional chronology (unable to admit its privilege, or take account of parallel stories), or the isolating of context-free points involved in making a theme, complexity thinking sketches out a world of living, changing particularities which are continually moving and changing through multiple dimensions.
Each one of these particularities starts from its own unique set of initial conditions, turning and weaving its own path - its personal history - whilst incorporating/encountering multiple levels of connection to an undefinable number of other systems, all of which ribbon through it and swirl around it. Everything is context-specific and in motion.
I tried to find an image for this situation, wanting to visualise it in contrast to the single thread and the two dimensional weave. I imagined many, many two dimensional woven cloths stacked up beside each other, side by side, forming a cube rather than describing a square. Then I changed the square shape of all the cloths lined up in space and instead thought of them as multiple circles, and then I made the circles three-dimensional; overlapping and nestled in to each other. Now all the threads were tracking not only from above and below, but also through space. Finally I changed the threads into circles and spirals and loops of energy continually moving between all the different circles in three dimensional space.
Each circle is a dynamic system, with its own specific origins and trajectory through time and space; continually exchanging energy and matter with the many systems that it contains and is part of, and many more systems that it comes into contact with.
Here there are no flat lines for a single version of history to be placed on. There is no possibility of ignoring contextual detail in the search for a theme either, because the systems are only able to exist because of their particularity; their specific origins in time, and their historic trajectories through a space. But because each system is open and constantly in motion, each individual trajectory has also always been woven into the dynamics of many other systems, and carries unique traces of these interactions which have folded into its own path.
The only way to talk about history now is in terms of the specificity of each interwoven system (which, though webbed into many other open systems, still has its own integrity).
A system’s journey through time is not only inseparable from the multiple contexts which have always operated within and beyond it, but also impossible to track or pin down. All that’s left of the dynamic influences on a system’s trajectory are vague traces.
Though it’s not possible in this situation to even begin to track causality (which is, of course, there nonetheless), what you can study is the detail of both conditions and effects. A system’s historic path can’t be seen, but there may be information available about its origins. Similarly, the emergent effects of the system’s path through time often exist as concrete forms; whether that’s a badly-constructed bridge that suddenly collapses, a shockingly bad election result, or a piece of art.
What does this approach suggest in terms of understanding processes of art-making, and their results?
Focus on a specific example. Stand back and see its relation to an abstracted theme if you want, but that’s a different activity. Likewise, put it on a timeline and see how it was a reaction to X or the precursor of Y, but remember that there were many interwoven strands all continually moving and affecting each other; the timeline can only capture one aspect of the movement of ideas and practices through time, leaving the rest of what was happening out.
Understand that you can never know enough about all the things that were moving together through time to say what caused what, or how. What societal, geographic, climatic, philosophical, technical, idiosyncratic, fiscal, personal elements might have been interacting and exerting effects which have been overlooked?
Study the detail of emergent effects: look at where the focus of study has tended to be (this carving in a well-known place, this portrait of a king) and imagine what might have been missed, what else might have been going on (a small carving in an out-of-the-way village; a folk portrait of the Goddess in a Himalayan tea-shop).
Thinking of time as an undulating, largely invisible three-dimensional emergent weave is a challenge to cultural expectations of novelty and progress. Is contemporary art stuck in the novelty/progress way of thinking, as artists continually try to shock, challenge, or throw things up in the air? From a distance, it often looks to me as if what’s being assumed is that the only way to continue is to try to keep manufacturing the kind of radical breaks with the past that were seen throughout the 20th century. Is there an unconscious assumption that everything must continue to move forward, because this is how we usually frame what has already happened?
But what if the productive capabilities of hoping for the next big change/movement/radical departure from current norms have finally become exhausted? And if they have, how might different ways of thinking create space for the recognition of things that have previously been excluded, or forms of practice and approach which refuse to run along the tracks of established norms?
What are the implications of stressing multidirectional movement and exchange instead of progress; of replacing straight lines and flat weaves with multiple connections and interactions which are continually giving rise to unpredictable and emergent effects?
An obvious implication of this approach for me is its underscoring of the need to acknowledge the presence of places and voices which have traditionally been ignored by both ‘the art world’, and by European histories of art. Not just in the sense of what some writers have identified as a new ‘art world’ trend (‘at the moment everything is about trauma context and identity politics’) but as integral threads in the weave that is everything, everywhere, on equal terms.
A three-dimensional dynamic weave approach suggests that it’s not enough to recognise a few artists in abstracted categories such as African art, primitive art, diaspora art, exiled art - mainly in response to political or commercial agendas. It has to be more than that, something beyond gallery trends and exclusionist agendas. Is that piece of Palestinian art ‘good’; does it continue the progress/direction for art that we wish to see? In the connected, interwoven world that we live in today, I can’t see how this can be the right question.
The second and third implications could be the importance of recognising the generative force of histories in relation to what emerges within and between interacting systems, and the specificity of emergent effects. Sensitive dependence on initial conditions1 draws attention to the inescapably particular nature of emergent things and their histories. From this perspective it no longer makes sense to talk about Indian art, naive art, refugee art, or art from ‘the West’. Now there is only the complicated, concrete reality of whatever is right in front of our eyes at any given moment; bearing the scars of its own journey and the marks of its own contextually-created connections.
Are we interested enough to ask questions about the whole weave, in not only three, but four dimensions? For me, this would require being prepared to question conventional ideas about ‘quality’; about qualifications and training; about meaning and purpose; and about what is meant by value.
This series started with me going to the Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art and being surprised to find paintings there organised by theme, rather than chronologically.
You can find the preceding articles here:
Time (1): A theme has no context. Obviously.
Time (2): How did it feel, to have no history?
Time (3): Without context, we lose history
From Complex Adaptive Systems: Turner and Baker synthesized the characteristics of complex adaptive systems from the literature and tested these characteristics in the context of creativity and innovation.[30] Each of these eight characteristics had been shown to be present in the creativity and innovative processes:
Path dependent: Systems tend to be sensitive to their initial conditions. The same force might affect systems differently.[31]
Systems have a history: The future behavior of a system depends on its initial starting point and subsequent history.[32]
Non-linearity: React disproportionately to environmental perturbations. Outcomes differ from those of simple systems.[31][33]
Emergence: Each system's internal dynamics affect its ability to change in a manner that might be quite different from other systems.[31]
Irreducible: Irreversible process transformations cannot be reduced back to its original state.[34]
Adaptive/Adaptability: Systems that are simultaneously ordered and disordered are more adaptable and resilient.[31]
Operates between order and chaos: Adaptive tension emerges from the energy differential between the system and its environment.[34]
Self-organizing: Systems are composed of interdependency, interactions of its parts, and diversity in the system.[31]
More detail on sensitive dependence on original conditions here.
Oh, that's enticing!
Holding this word here, as I come close to finishing the epic journey : Perspective.
Interwoven systems. Yes, here we are. A multi-dimensional tapestry which eliminates its flaws as it increases perspectives. Hooray!
Looking at anything from only one angle leaves for illusion. What we cannot see is a complete surprise or even a disappointment. Sometimes knowing more about the artist is not necessary; sometimes it makes that one straight line they drew more important because they never were able to do one like it again. I see a sit-com from this, where people come from all over the world to see ‘the line’ and everyone oohs and ahahhh, as there is contemplative silence in the room. Then I walk in and say, “ok? So what’s the bid deal? It’s a line?!” Gasps! Boos! The crowd turns to me, in a variety of scowls with mutterings and whispers amongst themselves of ‘how dare they?’ Until someone finally walks up to me and says, “yes, but she drew it with her foot.”
Perspective is both external and internal. It allows for what we bring, what they bring, what history brings… The only way to have perspective is through having curiosity, context and language. Half the reason those students may not have spoken about their work may be they neither have the language, perspective, nor context! All because they have cultivated no —or very limited—curiosity.
This is a powerful series of essays, Tamsin, in particular this piece, which is inspiring and expansive. Instead of limited thinking through themes and timelines, we enter the wonderful perspectives, the possibilities they open up because the act of physically viewing them generates so much more.
Ultimately, good curation or bad—they set the wheels in motion. Linear leads to circles, multi-dimensional thinking and perspective we all did not have before. As a collective, we grow.