Edited by Patrizia Dander and Elena Filipovic con t en t s
– m a rk leck ey – On Pleasure Bent
Script for Prp4AShw – Mark Leckey
The Real Embodiment of Ersatz Things – Elena Filipovic
OdooDem – Mark Leckey
Script for GreenScreenRefrigeratorAction – Mark Leckey
A Desire for Things – Patrizia Dander
Script for Concrete Vache – Mark Leckey & Martin McGeown
Script for In the Long Tail – Mark Leckey
Script for Cinema-in-the-Round – Mark Leckey
Mark Leckey, Pleasure Model (After Pietz) – John Cussans
Lyrics for March of the Big White Barbarians – Mark Leckey
Aspiring to the Condition of Cheap Music Interview with Mark Leckey – Dan Fox
Everybody’s Autobiography – Alex Kitnick
List of Works
Verlag der Buchhandlung Walther König, Köln 3
– on ple a sure ben t – 2013–14
Trailer for On Pleasure Bent, 2013 (still)
Circa ’87, 2013
– t he uni v ersa l a ddressa bili t y of dumb t hings – 2010–13
Inflatable Felix, 2013 Installation view The Universal Addressability of Dumb Things, a Hayward Touring exhibition at Nottingham Contemporary, Nottingham, 2013
Installation view The Universal Addressability of Dumb Things, a Hayward Touring exhibition at De La Warr Pavilion, Bexhill-on-Sea, 2013
scrip t for
prp4 a sh w – Mark Leckey, 2013
This is a Proposal for a Show. Which is going to happen at some point but at the moment it just exists here.
This is a Proposal for a Show. Which, at present, is without a name. It might be Almost Medieval, Techgnosis, The Universal Addressability of Dumb Things, or Phantom Objects from the Long Tail.
And what I’m Proposing is that the Show, in as far as possible, is set in the Past and the Future at the same time.
… It’s then I begin to understand that the tail is actually unfathomably long. That it reaches back through geological amounts of time. That it circles around and back to an archaic state of being, an aboriginal world of primal pleasures and familiar objects full of voices. A landscape where even the rocks and trees have names.1
This is a Proposal for a Show. That will be populated by Things that have one foot in this World and one in another. And it’s going to toggle between the two. This is a Proposal for a Show. In which I imagine a Newly Born Limb, the Ghost of a Flea and an Endless Note Petrified in Stone. I picture two prosthetic arms, One Ancient, One Modern, reaching out as far as they can to grasp all that there is in the World.
This is a Proposal for a Show. That will bring about the Transition of these Mock-Ups and turn them into Real-World Things. This is a Proposal for a World. In which Dumb Things sing a song as exuberant as this ….
Editor’s note: This quote is an excerpt from the video documentation of Leckey’s lecture performance In the Long Tail at The Abrons Art Center, New York, 2009.
Prp4AShw, 2010–13 (stills)
– sound s yst ems & bigbox act ions – 2001–12
BigBoxStatueAction performance with Sound System, 2003, and Sir Jacob Epstein’s Jacob and the Angel, 1940–41, at the Duveen Galleries, Tate Britain, London, 2003
– greenscreenrefriger ator act ion – 2010–11
GreenScreenRefrigeratorAction, 2010 Installation view GreenScreenRefrigeratorAction, Gavin Brown’s enterprise, New York, 2010
scrip t for
greenscreen refriger ator act ion – Mark Leckey, 2010
1,1,1,2-tetraflouroethane. 2,3,3,3-tetrafluoropropene. One, one, one and more, two, three, four, and more, two, three, four. See, see, see we assemble. See, we assemble. See we assemble; Samsung, Viking, Gaggenau, and Whirlpool. Here, here, here we exist. We exist in streets and houses, in cars and fields. As ever-present as sunshine. Each to each, in each order, in each group. Address each one. They ask and they answer. They ask, each one answers. Each one carries the news. Standing here, here standing here. Standing here besides myself. Out of my mind. Out of my mind I liken myself to other things … a dark mirror, a walled garden, a monstrous insect, a Spearmint Rhino, the staff of Hermes, a black sun, rising pylon. Four cornerings, four sidings, my measurings, my station. 17.8 cubic feet. Counter Depth. French Door. Bottom Freezer. 66
I must have contact with the floor. Steel, stainless steel. Annealed and passivated, cold-rolled into a ribbon, baked black as coal. Doors, in cool, doors. Tight Cool Doors. Indoors silver particles coat my glassy walls. Open wide. Immense Inner Space. Wide Open Take-Out Tray. Crisp, crisper, Crisper. Arctic and Fresh Select Zones, Quick Space Top Shelf. My goal is to keep home. My goal is to keep home. My goal is to keep home-e-o-stasis. By way of snakelike pipelines – buried within these walls – gaseous coolant goes through changes. Constricted, released, contracts and expands as a spirit goes through all, all states of matter. The Transmission of Coolant begins with messages sent to the Compressor: The Elephant of Celebes that sits in sticky yellow bottom grease. The infernal Elephant squeezes the coolant. It torments it. It humiliates it. Into a high-pressure state.
– a desire for t hings – Patrizia Dander
GreenScreenRefrigeratorAction, 2010–11 (still)
When Mark Leckey’s exhibition Septic Tank opened in 2004, he had only been a full-time artist for a few years. Although he had sporadically made works that had been shown in exhibitions since the mid-1990s,1 it was his video Fiorucci Made Me Hardcore (1999, pp. 230–235) – an homage to British dancehall culture since the 1970s, made for the exhibition Crash! at the Institute of Contemporary Arts 2 in London – that marked his breakthrough barely a decade after he had graduated from college. Fulfilling his nostalgic desire to find a visual form for memories from his youth, Fiorucci consists of found video footage from the days and nights of northern soul aficionados, casuals, and ravers.3 Backed by a soundtrack by Leckey that was released as an LP in 2012, the video came to epitomize what the music critic Simon Reynolds has said “may have been the best moments of a number of young British lives in the last three decades of the twentieth century. Their finest hour.” 4 For Leckey, this intensity and total absorption in one kind of music or one style of clothing (hence the title) are the essence of this video: “What the title […] means to me is this investment of energy into something as kitsch and crassly commercial as a fleetingly fashionable pair of jeans – Fiorucci had a moment in the late 1970s – and this belief in the brand, that it somehow symbolizes a ‘way of life,’ becomes something almost sacred. It’s an investment in something as a means to transcendence, or rather, immanence.” 5 Like Fiorucci, his subsequent works are expressions of longings and desires; informed by the cosmos of popular culture, British subculture in particular. Taking himself as his starting point (albeit notably avoiding presenting himself as an authentic artist-subject), in his videos and films, objects, and installations, he explores the affective charge of our relations to our surroundings as the motor for our own actions. In the past fifteen years Leckey has found a way to represent subjectivity as it operates on the cusp between the formulation of personal desires and a wider analysis of culture. More recently, this has expanded to encompass technological developments and their implications for subject-object relationships, thereby adding yet another level to the assessment of his position as a producer within a contemporary society and culture. Septic Tank emerged from this forcefield of personal interests and popular culture. It contained a number of works that took their inspiration from Leckey’s London studio at 7 Windmill Street,6 that is to say, the place where he made his art, a place of private aspirations and apprehensions. In the exhibition a replica of Leckey’s studio walls was constructed, like a stage set, accompanied by images of characters from the British 1970s television dramatization by ITV of Graham Greene’s short story The Destructors (1954). The show’s key figure was the actor Phil Daniels (see pp. 159–160), one of the main characters in The Destructors, and who would later play the lead role in Quadrophenia (1979), the legendary movie about the rivalry of mods and rockers in 1960s England. This role made Daniels an icon of British youth culture. In Greene’s story a gang of boys – initially led by Daniels as Blackie in the television dramatization – destroy a house in their neighborhood. In Septic Tank Leckey provided a stage for the violent devastation of someone else’s property (a year later, in 2005, he revisited this idea in his video Shades of Destructors [pp. 162–163], with its symbolic dismantling of his own studio). This framework is significant to Leckey’s own practice in the sense that he mostly works with found footage, which is to say he appropriates – and thereby potentially destroys – existing material. By locating the action in his studio he implicitly raises the question of the relationship of his own artistic production to other products of British (youth) culture, from Graham Greene to Quadrophenia. One item in the exhibition notably had no (sub)cultural reference of that kind, and it marks a starting point for Leckey’s engagement with medium-reflexivity and therefore technological matters. Although the 16 mm film Made in ’Eaven (2004, pp. 168–171) is also set in Leckey’s studio, it does not address the literary source by Greene (or rather its television dramatization), but instead an artistic reference, namely Jeff Koons’s stainless steel sculpture Rabbit (1986).7 The film opens with a quick pan shot showing the situation: in the middle of Leckey’s empty studio the gleaming Rabbit is seen in all its highly polished perfection, placed on a plinth like an exhibit in a gallery. 73
â€“ concret e vache â€“ 2010
Concrete Vache, 2010 (detail)
scrip t for
cinem a-int he-round – Mark Leckey, 2006–08
This presentation is my attempt to grasp a particular experience that I have with certain things in the world; things that appear as images or pictures but that somehow impose upon me a sense of their actual weight, density, and volume – of their physical being. This sensation is then even further enhanced when a picture starts to move; when it comes to life. I’ve called this experience CINEMA-in-the-ROUND. I’m going to present it in four chapters, the first one is “Meat and Potatoes.”
m e at a n d p o tat oes I’m beginning this chapter with the paintings of Philip Guston because: They are MEAT and they are POTATOES They’re down to earth and they’re a bit ham-fisted They are DUMB and they are DUMBERER They’re thick as a brick and a bit puddin’ headed But most of all, they are MENTAL and they are MATTER because they are both images AND they are things. So they are hunks and they are lumps, They are as dunce as they are dense, and they’re thunk and they’re stuff. They are thunken stuff. 133
And as paintings that feel like sculptures – or as the Campbell’s ad said back then: The soup that eats like a meal. How can something that is as basically flat and two-dimensional as a painting, and as Mickey Mouse as these crude images, muster something so physical and so weighty? And – in turn – channel its effect through MY body? So I become as engorged as these big throbbing heads. Like I am stewed in the same juices. All of these paintings – this (image onscreen) is Georg Baselitz’s P.D Fuss from 1963 – seem to produce an effect that you only otherwise encounter through severe trauma: of the body being an organized corporate arrangement of limbs and organs, held together by its material support. And it is only through the physical trauma that you get a real sense of the relative position of the individual parts to each other – for example, your LEG to your FOOT, your ARM to your KNEE. Your CHEST to your BACK or your FOOT to your ASS. All Throbbing and Pumping away single-handedly. HERE these limbs have suffered what surgeons would call an avulsion fracture – a separation of one body part from another – and they have gained independent activity. Baselitz’s headless feet walk by themselves with deep satisfaction of sensation, while Guston labors to make a Golem, an animated being created from inanimate matter. (An excerpt from V.S. Ramachandran’s demonstration of mirror box therapy for phantom limb pain.)
I’m discontented with homes that are rented So I have invented my own. Darling, this place is a lover’s oasis Where life’s weary chase is unknown. Far from the cry of the city Where flowers pretty caress the streams Cozy to hide in, to live side by side in, Don’t let it abide in my dreams. – Tea For Two, the tune played forever by the guests inside The Invention of Morel
– m a rk leck e y, ple a sure model (a f t er piet z)* –
i. t h e i deopl a sm ic m at er i a l i t y of du m b i d ol s And thou shalt make thee no molten gods. – Exodus 34:17 Cinema-in-the-Round (2006–08, pp. 134–140) is the name Mark Leckey gives to an uncanny personal experience of the imposing physicality of images, a sensation intensified when they start to move. The psycho-pathic sensibility he describes is reminiscent of those feverinduced deliriums experienced by children when their audiovisual and tactile senses are virally enfolded and confounded. The stubborn presence of objects close by seems suddenly, impossibly remote, while at the same time resonating with an unbearable proximity, and unidentifiable hypnogogic figures in the far distance whisper their conversations in the depths of your ear while gigantic locomotives plow silently through platforms at the speed of clock hands. In a video document of his lecture performance of the same name, there is a striking moment when the artist appears frozen like a waxwork model, an impression enhanced by the sound of his voice speaking while the mouth remains motionless. In that instant the artist seems like a simulacrum of himself, a mere thing, a temporary illustration of the text being discussed, the maker fixed in the very stuff of his art, like an unholy sculptural fusion of Narcissus and Pygmalion. But then “it” starts to move, and we can breathe again. Unlike the idol, however, whose nature is iconic, the fetish is essentially characterized by its irreducible materiality. But it is not the model-maker’s wax that Mark Leckey seems to be dissolving into these days, rather it is fuzzy, quantum matter. In a hallucinatory, almost psychedelic manner, like the lumps of globby, quasi-living substance that he sonically models, Leckey’s stuff now oozes between the luminoplasmics of digital screens and the molten metal and slow stone of monumental sculpture. So it is no simple matter, this heavy, interstitial, and animated physicality that preoccupies and ecstatically dematerializes the maker. Since Fiorucci Made Me Hardcore (1999, pp. 230 –235), it has been a materiality bound to the physicality and perception of images and signs. Leckey matter is therefore not only the physical material itself but simultaneously the visual sense of pure, dumb, thingy-ness in its ungraspable but super-sensed presence. Such is the uncanny, telepathic, in-sensed stuff that turns the mind’s eye inside out and reconstitutes itself as the compound photonic material of the Leckey fetish, now seeding and swarming in the infinite, protoplasmic expanses of the Long Tail.
i i. t h e a n i m y s t ic dis ch ron ici t y of or igi ns
Cinema in the Round, 2006–08 (still)
Enlightenment philosophers of the fetish generally identified it as a logical error in the philosophy of hypostasis: a theory about the shared nature of things spiritual and physical. For neoplatonists, beneath the surface of things present to the senses, there exist three higher or metaphysical stages of existence: the soul, the spirit (or intellect) and the One. By 143
Dan Fox: Your new work, On Pleasure Bent (2014, see p. 9), is a memoir of sorts. Could you talk about your interest in music when you were growing up in Liverpool?
– a spiring to t he condi t ion of che a p music Interview with Mark Leckey
Mark Leckey: The first record I bought was “Lily the Pink” by The Scaffold, and then I had a liking for Status Quo that lasted about three months until I discovered post-punk. By then it was 1979 and the first records I went out and bought were Gary Numan’s ‘‘Are ‘Friends’ Electric?”, “Gangsters” by The Specials, and “Shaved Women” by Crass. I used to go to this club in Liverpool called Eric’s. Unbelievably, they used to do a matinee for kids. I remember going there to see Swell Maps supporting Joy Division. I didn’t know anything about Joy Division at the time – I went to see Swell Maps – but once I saw Ian Curtis start doing his thing onstage I was enthralled. In 1979 I experienced that amazing post-punk peak. I was a punk, a mod, a rude boy, and a casual all within a year or two and then I got into the dance music of the time that was in the charts and discos: McFadden & Whitehead, The Fatback Band, Anita Ward’s “Ring my Bell,” et cetera. Much later I got into the dub reggae of that time, too. DF: Where were you living when acid house broke in the United Kingdom in 1988? ML: I was studying at Newcastle Polytechnic. In the summer of 1988 I went down to Brighton to get a job and fell into the rave scene there. This is just anecdotal, but I used to go to a place called The Zap Club in Brighton. I remember opening the door onto the dance floor there and seeing this room full of dry ice. A lad with a huge smiley face symbol painted on a cardboard mask loomed out of the fog. It was like entering into a well-established ritual, and I just plunged in. I had this incredible three months in Brighton, and then returned to Newcastle. I had a plastic Jif lemon sprayed gold on a chain around my neck, and only wore papal purple like a member of the clergy. The problem was that I was about the only one in Newcastle who’d been raving. Things moved slowly back then. DF: Did you have a sense at the time that it was a major youthquake? ML: I did. I felt I was missing out like crazy up in Newcastle. I knew something was happening. When I did manage to go to a rave a bit later, they had changed a lot. It seemed much heavier and darker but the music I love now more than anything is from that time: hardcore, darkcore, jungle. That was when the really exciting music was being made. To me it’s got that DIY rawness of the Nuggets compilations – 1960s garage rock, combined with this absolute modernist desire for a systematic derangement of the senses. And it’s all I listen to now, Ardcore and show tunes. DF: What attracted you to it at the time? Was it the technology behind the music? ML: I like my music autistic; repetitive, mechanical, with a set pattern. Then I like that pattern to break down and a new one to emerge. My body likes it. I like the sense of music controlling you, and you give yourself up to it. That’s what I learned from raving; that if you succumb, things start to happen on another level. It’s not all resistance. DF: You made your film Fiorucci Made Me Hardcore in 1999 (pp. 230 –235). What interested you about rave when you were
– fiorucci m a de me h a r dcore – 1999
Lending Enchantment to Vulgar Materials WIELS Contemporary Art Centre, Brussels September 26, 2014 – January 11, 2015
Mark Leckey Haus der Kunst, Munich January 30 – May 31, 2015
Mark Leckey. MADRESCENZA – Seasonal School Museo d’Arte Contemporanea Donnaregina – Madre Napoli Winter 2014–15
UniAddDumThs Kunsthalle Basel March 5 – May 31, 2015
Curator: Elena Filipovic Assistant Curator: Charlotte Friling
Curator: Patrizia Dander
MADRESCENZA Project Curator: Andrea Viliani
Curator: Elena Filipovic
Stiftung Haus der Kunst München, gemeinnützige Betriebsgesellschaft mbH Director: Okwui Enwezor Team: Tina Anjou, Stephan N. Barthelmess, Sabine Brantl, Daniela Burkart, Sylvia Clasen, Arnulf von Dall’Armi, Patrizia Dander, Martina Fischer, Elena Heitsch, Tina Köhler, Anton Köttl, Isabella Kredler, Teresa Lengl, Anne Leopold, Julienne Lorz, Karin Mahr, Marco Graf von Matuschka, Miro Palavra, Glenn Rossiter, Andrea Saul, Cassandre Schmid, Anna Schüller, Sonja Teine, Ulrich Wilmes
Fondazione Donnaregina per le Arti Contemporanee: Pierpaolo Forte, President; Laura Cherubini, Vice President; Antonio Blandini, Counselor
Kunsthalle Basel Director: Elena Filipovic Team: Beatrice Hatebur, General Management; Renate Wagner, Head of Exhibitions; Ruth Kissling, Assistant Curator; Klaus Haenisch, Chief Exhibition Technician; Elena Gerosa, Herbert Rehbein, and Uwe Walther, Exhibition Technicians; Sanja Lukanovic, Head of Educational Services; Leonie Brenner, Educational Services; Jan Kudrnovsky, Administration; Edith Kämmerle, Accountant; Heidrun Ziems, Library; Sören Schmeling and Mara Berger, Research Assistants; Rinny Biberstein, Head of Reception; Lea Hummel, Sima Djabar Zadegan, and Renée Steffen, Reception; Sibylle Reichenbach, Intern
WIELS Director: Dirk Snauwaert Team: Devrim Bayar, Wim Clauwaert, Benoît De Wael, Michael Dewit, Caroline Dumalin, Nadia Essouayah, Elena Filipovic, Charlotte Friling, Eva Gorsse, Fredji Hayebin, Ari Hiroshige, Kwinten Lavigne, Martine de Limburg Stirum, Micha Pycke, Sophie Rocca, Michèle Rollé, Cédrik Toselli, Frédérique Versaen Board and General Assembly members: Inge C. de Bruin-Heijn, Herman J. Daled, Bart De Baere, Chris Dercon, Pierre Iserbyt, Ann Veronica Janssens, Sophie Le Clercq, Bruno van Lierde, Michel Moortgat, Frédéric Rouvez, Luc Tuymans, Richard Venlet, Sylvie Winckler WIELS Contemporary Art Centre Av. Van Volxemlaan 354 b–1190 Brussels tel +32 (0) 2 340 00 53 www.wiels.org
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Scientific Committee of Fondazione Donnaregina per le Arti Contemporanee: Andrea Bellini, Johanna Burton, Bice Curiger, Gianfranco Maraniello, Chus Martínez Museo d’Arte Contemporanea Donnaregina – Madre Napoli: Andrea Viliani, Director; Gianni Limone, Financial Director; Silvia Salvati, Exhibition Manager, with Juliana Fisichella; Vincenzo Trione, Head of Department; Olga Scotto di Vettimo, Researcher; Alessandra Troncone, Researcher; Alessandro Rabottini, Curator at Large; Eugenio Viola, Curator at Large Scabec SpA (Organization and Management): Maurizio Di Stefano, President; Franco Tumino, CEO; Rosanna Cappelli, Counselor; Massimo Lo Cicero, Counselor; Ciro Russo, Counselor; Francesca Maciocia, Director; Maurizio D’Amico, Luigi Panaro, General Coordination; Carlotta Branzanti, Anna Civale, Tiziana Rocco with Francesca Buonomo, Annalisa Virgili (Exhibition Coordination by Electa); Monica Brognoli, Anna Salvioli with Luisa Maradei, Valeria Vacca, web-social network (Communication and Press Office by Electa); Valérie Béliard, Silvia Cassani (Publications by Electa); Bruno D’Antonio, Valeria Pitterà with Marina Vinto, Daniela Bruscino (Museum and Educational Services by Coopculture); Giuseppe Codispoti with Laura Aversa, Annamaria Caffarelli (Marketing by Coopculture); Civin Vigilanza SRL, Pacifico Costruzioni SpA, Gamba Service SpA (Security, Maintenance, Cleaning)
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UniAddDumThs is organized with the collaboration of WIELS, Brussels Kunsthalle Basel is generously supported by the Canton of Basel-Stadt
Museo d’Arte Contemporanea Donnaregina – Madre Napoli Via Settembrini 79 i–80139 Naples tel +39 081 19313016 www.madrenapoli.it
Mark Leckey – On Pleasure Bent is published to coincide with the exhibitions: Lending Enchantment to Vulgar Materials September 26, 2014 – January 11, 2015 WIELS Contemporary Art Centre, Brussels Mark Leckey January 30 – May 31, 2015 Haus der Kunst, Munich It is also published on the occasion of the MADRESCENZA – Seasonal School seminar, Mark Leckey, winter 2014–15, co-organized by Fondazione Donnaregina per le Arti Contemporanee / Madre – Museo d’Arte Contemporanea Donnaregina, Naples With additional support by Kunsthalle Basel in connection with their presentation of UniAddDumThs, March 5 – May 31, 2015
Editors: Patrizia Dander and Elena Filipovic Publication coordinator: Patrizia Dander, assisted by Elisabeth Stoiber Copy editor: Kimberly Bradley Proofreader: Sylee Gore Translator: Fiona Elliott (Patrizia Dander essay) Graphic design: Sara De Bondt studio Printing and binding: Die Keure, Brugge Cover: Mark Leckey, On Pleasure Bent Cover, 2014 Published by Verlag der Buchhandlung Walther König, Köln Ehrenstr. 4, 50672 Köln Distribution: Germany & Europe Buchhandlung Walther König, Köln tel +49 (0)221 20 59 6 53 fa x +49 (0)221 20 59 6 60 email@example.com uk & Eire Cornerhouse Publications 70 Oxford Street gb-Manchester m1 5nh tel +44 (0)161 200 15 03 fa x +44 (0)161 200 15 04 firstname.lastname@example.org usa & Canada d.a.p., Distributed Art Publishers 55 Sixth Avenue/ 2nd Floor usa-New York, ny 10013 tel +1 (0)212 627 1999 fa x +1 (0)212 627 9484 email@example.com ISBN 978-3-86335-618-7
Mark Leckey, the editors, and the publishing institutions would like to thank the following people: Gavin Brown and Jamie Kenyon from Gavin Brown’s enterprise, New York; Daniel Buchholz, Christopher Müller, and Filippo Weck from Galerie Buchholz, Berlin/Cologne; Freddie Checketts, Martin McGeown, and Andrew Wheatley from Cabinet Gallery, London, and Sara De Bondt. Taylor Absher / New York University Advanced Media Studio (AMS), Danai Anesiadou, Ara Arslanian, Charles Asprey, Ronald Asprey, Ed Atkins, Tim Bacon, Amanda Baggs, Maria Barnas, Jon Barraclough, Tamara Beheydt, Akiko Bernhöft, Mark Blower, Brian Bress, Jérôme Blanchevoye / JCDecaux Street Furniture Belgium S.A., Mark Blower, Christian and Karen Boros, Louise Bourgeois, Edwin Burdis, Steven Cairns / Institute of Contemporary Arts, Lizzie Carey-Thomas / Tate Britain, Maurizio Cattelan, Angela Choon / David Zwirner, Peter Coffin, Alastair Cookson, Chris Cunningham / Aphex Twin, John Cussans, Anja NathanDorn, Claudine Duvivier, Emilie Forget / Le Consortium, Dan Fox, Daniele Frazier, Clare Gannaway / Manchester Art Gallery, Herman Geubels / DDP Brussels, Terry Gilliam, Charles Gohy, Wolfgang Günzel, Jean-Louis de Halleux / s.a. D’Ieteren, Richard Hamilton, Lee Healey, Florian Hecker, Sven Hermans / Materialise, Nicola Hicks, Susan Hiller, Antonia Hirsch, Erich Hörl, Alex Hubbard, Kathrin Jentjens, Andy Keate, Dr. Kristin Kennedy / Victoria and Albert Museum, Alex Kitnick, Jon Lash / Digital Atelier, Elad Lassry, Andrea MaciasYanez, Herman Makkink, Pietro Torrigiani Malaspina and Maddalena Fossombroni / Castello di Fosdinovo, Roger Malbert / Hayward Touring, Maurice Marciano, Emily Martinez, Xavier Mary, Sander Mulder, James Mullord, David Musgrave, Suzanne Pagé and Ludovic Delalande / Fondation Louis Vuitton, Chelsea Pettitt / Hayward Touring, Alessandro Raho, Stéphanie Rollin / The Plug, Walter Sache, Alexander Schröder, Jim Shaw, Raf Simons, Sanne Sinnige, Kerstin Stakemeier, Paolo Stolpmann / Boros Collection, Stephanie Schwarze, Siegfried Smeets, Mike Sperlinger, Abi Spinks / Nottingham Contemporary, Ali Subotnick / Hammer Museum, Miroslav Tichý, Gigiotto Del Vecchio, Tom Wallman, Robert Wilson, Jane Won / De La Warr Pavilion, and Catherine Wood / Tate Modern.
Unless otherwise stated, all photographs are courtesy of the artist and Gavin Brown’s enterprise, New York; Galerie Buchholz, Berlin/Cologne; and Cabinet Gallery, London: pp. 14–15 Photograph by Brian Forrest, courtesy of Hammer Museum, Los Angeles; pp. 16–17, 84–85, 164–165, 191, 206 Courtesy of the artist and Cabinet Gallery, London; pp. 19, 24–25 Photographs by Andy Keate, courtesy of Nottingham Contemporary and Hayward Touring, London; pp. 20–21 Photograph by Jon Barraclough 2013, courtesy of The Bluecoat, Liverpool, and Hayward Touring, London; pp. 22–23, 26–27 Photographs by Nigel Green, courtesy of De La Warr Pavilion, Bexhill-on-Sea, and Hayward Touring, London; pp. 30–31 Photograph by Christiano Corte; p. 34 © Victoria and Albert Museum, London; p. 47 Photograph by Alessandro Raho; p. 49 Stills from a documentation by Nick Relph; pp. 50–51, 58, 68–69, 103–104, 108, 110–111, 225 Photographs by Mark Blower; pp. 54–55 Photograph by Alan Seabright, courtesy of Manchester Art Gallery; pp. 56–57 Photograph by Kim Williams, courtesy of Walter Philipps Gallery at the Banff Centre; pp. 62–63, 70–71, 159, 209 Courtesy of the artist and Gavin Brown’s enterprise, New York; pp. 82–83, 87–88, 91 Photographs by Andy Keate; pp. 101–102, 106, 114 Photographs by Amy C. Elliott; pp. 118–119, 174–175, 185, 192–195, 208 Courtesy of the artist and Galerie Buchholz, Berlin/Cologne; p. 123 Photographs by Simon Vogel, courtesy of Kölnischer Kunstverein, Cologne; pp. 124– 125, 182 photographer unknown, courtesy of the artist; p. 147 Photograph by Wolfgang Günzel; pp. 148, 190 Photographs by André Morin, courtesy of Le Consortium, Dijon; pp. 188–189 Photographs by Sophie Rickett; p. 210 Courtesy of the artist; pp. 220 top left, 222–223 Photographs by Ben Brett.
We would also like to thank the following companies and institutions: Ashmolean Picture Gallery, AUDI, Formlabs, JCDecaux Street Furniture Belgium S. A., Marc O’Polo, Nissan Design Europe, RSLSteeper, and Victoria and Albert Museum. Additional thanks go to: The Henry Moore Foundation.
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© 2014 Madre; Stiftung Haus der Kunst München, gemeinnützige Betriebsgesellschaft mbH; WIELS; the artist, the authors, the photographers, and Verlag der Buchhandlung Walther König, Köln We thank all copyright owners for their kind permission to reproduce their material. Should, despite our intensive research, any person entitled to rights have been overlooked, legitimate claims shall be compensated within the usual provisions.