1965/1 - ∞, Detail 4914800 - 4932016 

Editor: Here we have a piece by Roman Opalka, called "1965/1 - ∞, Detail 4914800 - 4932016," made with acrylic. Looking at this monochrome canvas, which seems to be covered in numbers, I’m immediately struck by a sense of obsessive dedication. It feels almost meditative. What do you make of it? Curator: Meditative is a good word. It reminds me of being lost in thought, those little whispers of numbers cascading gently. Opalka started this project in 1965, painting consecutive numbers onto canvas, beginning with one and intending to continue until his death. He called each canvas a 'Detail.' It's like capturing the uncapturable – time itself, do you feel that sense of relentless progression when you look at it? Editor: I do now that you mention time. Is that why he continued until he passed? It’s like the project became his life's work, inseparable from his existence. Did he ever talk about that intention explicitly? Curator: Exactly. The addition of white to the background, a gradual fading into whiteness mirroring his own life fading, creates an incredibly poignant dialogue about existence and infinity. Imagine living every day, knowing you are painting your life away, each stroke both a mark and a farewell. It is an invitation to contemplation. Editor: That's intense. So it's not just about numbers; it's about mortality and what we leave behind? I originally saw the abstraction but, with what you are saying, he is speaking beyond the canvas with each number. Curator: Precisely. It challenges the conventional boundaries of art and life. We can lose ourselves, yet also find an uncanny peace there among the endless progression of numbers. It’s an odd dance. Editor: Wow. I initially thought this was about abstract obsession, but it’s more like a profound meditation on time and being. Curator: And maybe that's what all good art does, leads us from one place of perception to somewhere altogether new.