[MUSIC PLAYING]
VITO ACCONCI: I remember being
tremendously jolted the first
time I saw a Jasper
Johns painting.
And it seemed like, wow,
conventions are important.
It's as if Jasper Johns really
wanted to do all these little
abstract brush strokes,
but he said, why
would anybody pay attention?
However, if I make a number
five, you can't help pay
attention-- if you
make a target.
It's a way to draw people in,
which made me think in terms
of English.
English language idioms--
can you play with words?
The great thing about words is
that they seem so definite,
but they're so hazy
and cloudy.
You can pick one word within
a word and it starts to
contradict the basic word.
I don't want to do something
that refers to
something off the page.
Towards the end of the time I
was writing, I started to
think, I can't use words like
"tree," "chair." This refers
to a space off the page, whereas
I could use, on the
page, words like "there,"
"then," "at that time," "in
that space," "in that place"--
words that directly referred to
my act of writing the page,
words that referred to
the reader's act of
going down the page.
They were almost like guides
for the reader.
Though, eventually--
one of the last poems I wrote
was a poem consisting of a
page on reading speed--
how to improve reading speed.
The title given to it was
something like "The Time Taken
For Me to Walk From 14th Street
and 6th Avenue to 14th
Street and 5th Avenue"--
so an attempt to make
reading time
equivalent to writing time.
By the time I got there, I
thought, I can't turn back.
The stuff has taken me
out to the street.
And also, I started to question,
if I'm so interested
in space and moving over a
space, why am I moving over an
8 and 1/2 by 11 piece
of paper?
There's a floor out there.
There's a street out there.
There's a world out there.
What can I do on the street?
Follow a person.
What I thought of
as activities--
they weren't exactly
performances.
There wasn't a viewer.
If anything, I was the viewer.
I used what was available.
I started to use a
Super 8 camera--
later, a video camera.
I was very struck by a beautiful
Charlie Chaplin
statement when he was asked, why
didn't he ever use a close
up in his comedies?
And his answer was, well,
there's just nothing funny
about a face 15 feet high,
which changed my life.
And then I realized, but
video is a place--
a video monitor, a video screen,
at least then, was
approximately the size
of a person's face.
So the way I did videos was
my face on screen, face
to face with you--
I have to assume somebody's
going to watch it--
with you offscreen.
What am I doing in
relation to you?
First of all, where am I?
Am I face to face with you?
And in this case, I'm
on the floor.
I'm either a pet
cat or a snake.
[MUSIC PLAYING FROM VIDEO]
No, I don't need your picture.
I don't have to know
what you look like.
We haven't even said
hello yet.
You can look like anybody.
I'll take anybody.
I'll take anything I can get.
Some of the videos I
did before this--
I was really struck by the--
sorry, I can't say I stole
this from these movies.
But it was '72, '73, a great
Bob Rafelson movie called
"King of Marvin Gardens."
It begins with black and Jack
Nicholson's face leaning into
the screen, and direct
confrontation.
That was important to me.
Though, I had done stuff
before that, I guess.
But actually, I think a lot of
the face-to-face video stuff I
did was really not until '73.
So I think I got it from "King
of Marvin Gardens."
-People always say about you
that, at some point, you
turned your back on
the art world.
VITO ACCONCI: To me, the
shorthand to the time is the
music of the time.
In the late '60s, early '70s, I
was listening to Neil Young,
Van Morrison--
single voice, long song.
There was something else
going on in the music.
The introduction of the Velvet
Underground was like the
introduction of the city in the
middle of what, in effect,
was rural music,
country music.
You have all the time in
the world to wander.
But Velvet Underground was the
city's closing in on you.
So by the mid '70s, I
was listening to a
different kind of music.
I was listening to the Ramones,
the Sex Pistols.
No longer single voice, no
longer long song, because a
scream can't last
for six minutes.
It started to become clear
to me that my stuff is so
grounded on the '60s.
It's so grounded on a time in
which the common language is
finding oneself, as if the self
is something that you
separate from the rest of the
person and concentrate on and
contemplate.
[UNINTELLIGIBLE SOUNDS]
VITO ACCONCI: I've never
loved galleries.
I've never particularly
loved museums.
But have I turned my back?
I don't know, it's
an interesting--
I think I don't feel a
connection to the art world.
But I always had questions
about the art
world, even when I started.
I come from a generation who had
the illusion that we were
going to do the kind of work
that would make galleries go
out of existence.
We were very naive.
And also, in some ways, a
lot of us were right.
We didn't make commodities,
so we always had a
difficult time surviving.
By '73, '74, '75, I and a lot of
other people were starting
to have very different
notions of self.
Self wasn't this precious
jewel that you found and
focused on.
Self maybe existed only as part
of a social system, a
cultural system, a
political system.
By the mid '70s, I wanted stuff
of mine to be part of
those overall systems.
In other words, I thought,
is my stuff inherently
self-enclosed?
Yes, it was me and you.
But what about we?
Once I did "Seedbed" in '72, I
started to realize it's not
the '60s anymore.
I might have masturbated
in a gallery in 1972.
People were fucking in
the streets in 1965.
Art is a little slow.
Luckily, life is faster.
Our first goal is really
not to build.
Our first goal is, can we come
up with a design, can we
design a space, can we design
a condition that
will surprise us?
An attempt we made a few years
ago to propose a new light
system for New York--
the competition brief said
that the new light system
should have a very thick post,
because the post would have to
hold different kinds of lights,
different kinds of signs.
We thought this was probably
misguided since you wouldn't
need all those different kinds
of lights, all those different
kinds of signs, all the time.
Let's take the opposite
approach.
Let's use the thinnest
pole possible.
Then, each pole would
hold one kind of
light, one kind of sign.
The more you needed then, you
would braid them together.
You would braid each one sign,
one light post together so you
could have multiple
lights at posts.
Needless to say, the new light
system is exactly the same as
the old one.
We, like a lot of people, made
a kind of attempt at a
possible new World
Trade Center.
We proposed a World Trade
Center full of holes.
Our starting point was that if
a building nowadays is going
to be exploded anyway, maybe a
building nowadays should come
already exploded.
It should come pre-exploded.
So we take the original site
of the World Trade Center,
extrude it to a height
of 110 stories high--
more of a mass, more of a volume
than the original World
Trade Center ever was, more
private office space than
anybody could possibly need so
we could shoot cones into it.
Now that the building is riddled
with holes, it can
possibly act as a kind
of urban camouflage.
A terrorist flying by above
looks down and says, we don't
have to bother about
this building.
It's already been dealt with.
Now that the building is riddled
with holes, there are
now tunnels from one side
to another, tunnels
from bottom to top.
Now that there are tunnels
through the building, the rest
of the building can
come inside.
Parks can come inside
the building.
Street vendors can come
inside the building.
In other words, instead of
trying to observe the
convention of private office
building with so-called public
space outside, can we mix
public and private?
Which, I think, our projects,
at least when they work,
always try to do.
This is paradoxical maybe, but
even though we build far from
everything we do, we do think
it's necessary to build,
because you have to build in
order to test the theory.
And the only way you can test
the theory is what happens
when other people come in.
I got a lot of my ideas of
architecture from "Blade
Runner." "Blade Runner" was
so startling to me.
This contradicted the 2001
notion of architecture.
The future is abstract
and all white.
The "Blade Runner" notion
shrugged its shoulders and
said, we're never going to have
enough money to build
from the beginning.
Let's just tack on to what's
already there.
And again, it made
a kind of sense.
So our first goal is to do
something that surprises us.
And hopefully, if it surprises
us, maybe it can surprise and
excite at least one
other person.
Graz, for example--
we always made the assumption
that probably there's a chance
that younger people
like our work.
I don't think we have much of
a chance with older people.
But that's OK.
It's a way that I can
maybe pretend that
I'm not getting older.
When the Graz island was
finished, people in Graz
started to use the island
as a place for walks.
And a lot of old people were
walking on the island.
I was really surprised.
The interesting thing, when
somebody was in the theater--
and especially, I remember,
this happened a
lot with older people.
They're in the theater.
They're walking.
Suddenly, they look
up and around, and
they started to laugh.
It seemed like, well, maybe
they kind of got
the feeling of it.
They were in this open space.
Now, without realizing it,
without going through an
entrance, it became a
more closed space.
And even though we couldn't use
the same language, people
came up to us and thanked us.
There was a peace tree
named after us.
Now, I don't know if I can say
that's totally a sign, but it
seemed like--
What we were asked to do was
this person-made island that
would have three functions--
a theater, a cafe, and a
playground.
So we started with the
conventional idea of a theater--
a bowl.
What if we twist the bowl?
What if we turn it
upside down?
Bowl becomes dome.
Dome becomes the cafe.
The twisting, warping space
in between becomes the
playground.
You walk in under a canopy
that twists down to make
lounge seating around
the cafe.
Our bar twists down to make
a number of bar counters.
The reason for the number of bar
counters is that when we
design a project, we try to
envision what can happen here.
This is a bar.
Somebody's drunk.
Whenever this person extends
his or her hand, they might
hit a bar counter, at least
they have some chance.
I always say, yes, we give
people a place to use.
If we put a couple of folding
chairs there, would it have
done the same thing?
I hope we provide more
than a folding chair.
We provide a folding
chair with a twist.
Does everybody want that?
I hope--
maybe everybody doesn't
want it.
Do we want something that
everybody wants?
I guess we want to appeal to
people who think that, wow, I
didn't know space didn't have
to be implacable and fixed.
Now that I've been in this
space, maybe I can turn my
space upside down.
Maybe I can twist my space.
I admit, do we want to
appeal to everybody?
No.
We want to appeal to people
who want a second
chance, want a future.
I got so excited with the notion
of a computer-oriented
time, because it seems like
everybody has things
in their own hands.
So it seems this should be the
most optimistic time ever.
Ideally, we want to do stuff
that couldn't have been built,
couldn't have been designed,
ideally, couldn't even have
been dreamt of before
the 21st century.
We don't do that.
But we wish could.
We try.
We wanted to make a system
that possibly
could adapt to people.
Could people change the
system they're in?
This is a project we're
doing in Indianapolis.
The street goes through
a building.
When people go through it,
there's a structure of LED
lights that follow you
and swarm around you.
They're not exactly swarming
around you.
It's an on and off system.
But we wanted to make this
system that would be almost
like fire flies.
So fire flies would
follow you.
If another one person
comes, the fire
flies start to mingle.
Can it be done?
Yes.
Can it be done for a
$600,000 budget?
We're not sure yet, but
we think it can.
But we've been working on
a number of projects
that adjust to people.
This is a proposal that won
this competition for a
sculpture park in Bernau
in the Czech Republic.
But whether it'll actually
happen is another matter.
We wanted to fill the space with
these almost fake grass,
fake bamboo.
It would be fibers.
As soon as a person walks, when
a person comes close, the
fibers start to part.
The fibers part to
let you through.
This notion of things parting,
adjusting to people, is
something we've tried a
number of versions.
We did a tattoo based on
this system that--
actually, one or two actual
tattoos exist.
A person would pick out
the imperfections
on his or her body.
And then we would make a kind
of magnetic field system.
One mole calls to the other.
And we're wondering if we
can make a clothing
system out of this.
You pick five points
on the body--
two nipples, a belly button,
and a vagina.
Can one draw the other
and you make this
kind of field system?
Ideally, you can build a city on
this magnetic field system.
But I don't know how
far we've gotten.
There are a number of
architects, certainly not just
us, who are trying to do things
according to principles
of biology.
Right now, it seems to
be only a metaphor.
Yes, I can say, here's a
magnetic field system.
Yeah, maybe you can use that
as a system of design, but
it's not going to move
in the future.
Maybe it will.
But certainly not
as we've done.
It's more of a design method,
where it should be a real
growth method.
We haven't figured out
how to do it yet.
But at the same time, I don't
want to say that this isn't
possible in the future.
It's certainly not
possible now.
Or maybe I even have to say more
validly that we haven't
found a way to make what
we really want happen.
But I can't say that, amongst
some of those architects that
we admire, somebody might
have discovered it.
We don't know about it yet.
Right now, we listen to
electronic music, Japanese
noise music--
no voice.
We want music to be as--
I think music and architecture
are exactly the same.
Not exactly the same, but
they're at least analagous.
Both music and architecture
make a surrounding.
They make an ambiance.
But also, both music and
architecture allow you to do
something else-- something else
while listening to music,
something else while in the
middle of architecture.
To me, that's probably the
keynote of the 21st century.
Like, I think, a lot of
architects now, I think what
we really want is, can we make
a place you take with you?
A little fashion magazine called
"The Black Book" a few
years ago proposed to us that
the umbrella hasn't been
redesigned in years.
Could we try our hand at
an alternate umbrella?
We started with the idea
of ruffles in clothing.
So what we did was make a kind
of "umbruffla," combining
umbrella and ruffles.
It's made of two-way mirrored
mylar, so when you're wearing
it, because of the change of
light, you can see out.
But from outside, you just see
the reflections of city.
So it acts as a camouflage
system.
Our umbrella has some
advantages over the
conventional umbrella.
You can tie one end to your
waist, one end to your wrist
so your hands are free.
You can wrap it around you
like a kind of cloak.
If another umbrella is coming
towards you, you don't have to
bump umbrellas.
You can wrap it around
yourself.
It's an umbrella that two people
can use, so you can
wrap another person
up with you.
Then, the ruffles system, if
we do it well enough, will
allow it to fold down.
Ideally, it should fold into
the size of a wrist.
I've always been told I'm a kind
of incurable optimist.
I'm a curable optimist at the
same time, being an amazing
depressive.
Yes, computer has all these
kinds of possibilities.
Religion and belief
is the opposite.
I can't necessarily say that
religion and belief isn't
going to win.
I would be very optimistic if
I could be convinced that
everybody wanted to leave home,
but I'm afraid a lot of
people want to go back home.
And going back home, I think, is
wanting something that you
can be sure of, something that
you can believe, and also
something that you can keep
other people out of.
And that's scary.
With--
not just an instrument, but the
computer is a network of
instruments.
With a network of instruments
so vast, it seems like, can
Homeland Security
ultimately win?
I really don't think it can.
I might not be around
to see it.
What I want to believe, or
believe, is that-- and this
has something to do with what I
was saying about the kind of
stuff we really want to do
is the kind of place
you carry with you.
Maybe the future is a world
where people carry their own
homes with them, where they
never have to go home.
There are no boundaries
to cross.
It's a world of nomads.
A world of nomads can be an
incredibly exciting world, but
it's the opposite of home.
