Pierre Huyghe

A Forest of Lines, 2008

Muchos conceptos se unen a lo que hacemos en Menhir: la idea de acontecimiento, la dislocación de espacios a través de una especie de inmersión que tiene en cuenta elementos físicos naturales sin modificar dentro de un espacio arquitectónico que da una idea post-apocalíptica en la que la naturaleza ha deglutido la arquitectura, junto a una capa sonora -quizás menos musical, más conceptual, pero interesante su apreciación de la música popular. Interesante que habla de que trata de abrir a la potencialidad del espacio, no a su interpretación. Me parece curiosa la referencia a las líneas, que para él son las líneas o recorridos de los espectadores, pero que podrían ser una referencia a la pieza de A line de Long.

https://www.researchgate.net/publication/49597252_A_Forest_of_Lines_An_Interview_with_Pierre_Huyghe

For the 2008 Biennale of Sydney, you constructed a temporary forest of a thousand trees, real trees, inside the concert hall at the Sydney Opera House. A song was sung in the forest, and the audience was invited to walk through this space filled with mist, through paths in the trees, to listen to a story.

I was looking for a place of representation. When you think about theatre, spectacle, opera, you think about this place and this iconic building. But the main reason was that the Opera House is a time-based platform for representation. The forest or a jungle is something you can’t easily define. It is a blurry image, because it’s a multitude, heterogeneous and complex that keeps changing. It is an organism. It is a place where you can lose yourself, so it has mystery. The forest is a place of fiction and tales, it is a place of fear, where things happen that you don’t see and you don’t know about. The Forest of Lines is a science fiction experiment in a way. [When you are in this forest, you are always reminded of where you are. This is not a space of total illusion or fantasy. It is not intended to be an entirely immersive environment.] This is not a set, it has to be understood as a displacement, it is real and at scale with the place, so you can still see where you are by looking at the architecture. [Laura Marling wrote de song] The lyrics are literally indications how to get outside the Opera House and go elsewhere. The lyrics start: Turn your back on the forest of lines, leave the Opera House behind, then pass the bridge, past Luna Park and take the 1 and A1… It’s an oral map that the narrator delivers. She is first a narrator, and then it happens that this narrator delivers this oral map through a song. It is a real map that you can follow, now, tomorrow, or in five years time when someone hears the narrator or remember the lyrics, the map will lead to the place where this image, this information, came from. As if in an emergency state before a catastrophic moment. It says I’m going to disappear and you should leave before that happens, and face something else. The audience is part of the image, part of the show. A lot of lights are moving in the forest [you can see the lights from the headlamps that the audience are wearing] It is not exactly a forest, It’s a context that I have translated. The structure of someone singing an oral map comes from an Australian Aboriginal tradition, it is a description of landscape and of a dreaming. It is a way to tell people about their environment and also a way to find yourself in it. The landscape is the narrative. It’s a personal GPS but you find your way through singing. It’s a relation of space, narration and time; it’s really a mind-blowing structure.

I found in the songlines a previous concern: how to translate time into space or temporalised space. I am trying to find an ecology, a movement between a subject and their representation; between an image and its environment. A non-mediated relation with the image. I am trying to stand in the moment of transition and of translation, to understand how that process works and to produce a movement. I am trying to open a space of discursivity and experience, a space of potential interpretations.

If you make the journey, the work starts to exist. For the moment, no one has experienced it. People have seen the prologue, walked through its score.******

Folk music is mainly narrative music. Folk songs usually have their origins in real stories, told in a simple ways.

The song is actually a description of an artwork. It gives a sequence of information about how to get somewhere else. I thought about Lawrence Weiner’s works, or even Kosuth’s chair and the definition and image of the chair. [Although his purpose is not make art about art]

[About the interpretation of the work by the people] I don’t think there is one interpretation or one way to grab something. You still need an engagement, a desire or something that you want to share. What I am trying to do is to intensify the potentiality, the state of potentiality in a given space.

A Journey that Wasn’t (2005)

A Journey that Wasn’t (2005) in Central Park in New York. He undertook a journey to Antarctica, mapped the form of the island that you found there, and then performed the shape of the island as a musical performance on an ice rink in New York. Huyghe and his crew embarked upon the Antarctic expedition in February of that year, and the trip was prompted by the artist having learned that global warming had caused the Antarctic shelf to recede, opening up new areas of the ocean and access to uncharted islands. Huyghe had also heard a rumour that an elusive white animal lived in the region and one of the aims of the expedition was to find it.  The concert was held in October 2005 and jointly organised by the Public Art Fund and the Whitney Museum of American Art. The music was written by the composer Joshua Cody and inspired by Huyghe’s topographical map of the island.

https://www.tate.org.uk/art/artworks/huyghe-a-journey-that-wasnt-t12464#:~:text=Summary,in%20Central%20Park%2C%20New%20York.

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