拍品專文
‘I aim for self-evidence,’ says Julia Dault. Each of her sculptures is a taut record of a precise time and process. The title Untitled 19 evolves each time the work is installed as it reflects the specific time it was installed and the name of the assistant who helped fabricate it. Therefore, the last time it was displayed the installation was titled Untitled 19, 10:27 AM - 1.13 PM, January 5, and 5:08-6:48 PM, January 6, 2016, installed by Simon Bird. Its Plexi materials are on the verge of springing apart, straining against string and Everlast boxing wraps – a compelling tautness born of physical struggle, as the surface’s scratches and scrapes attest. Aside from their performative aspect, Dault takes pure material joy in her constructions, which play Minimalism’s hard-edged robustness off against the luxuriant sheens and hues of her media, framing and lensing space in new and exciting ways. ‘People sometimes tell me that the sculptures feel very powerful as you walk up to them,’ she says, because they’re so graceful, but they contain so much tension. Or they say that it looks as though the sculpture might fly apart … I like the idea of material reciprocity: were a sculpture to break from its position, it would be an instance of the materials overcoming my physical capabilities. In an exhibition, I’ve always vowed that I would leave it be. I almost wish one would “break” – I want to see what would happen, what it would look like, with the cords dangling from the wall and the sheets flat on the floor. Safety concerns override this desire, however, and though the sculptures look insecure, they are not.’