Untitled 1973

Curator: So, here we have Darboven's "Untitled" from 1973, ink on paper. It feels almost like a page torn from a very peculiar diary, don't you think? Editor: Yes, definitely. The script is incredibly dense, covering nearly every inch of the paper. There's an almost frantic energy to it, yet the repeated forms give it a strange kind of calm. I'm fascinated by the incorporation of mathematical calculations within the script. How do you interpret this work? Curator: I see it as Darboven’s personal encoding of time. The repetition, the calculations, the handwritten text… they all point towards her fascination with systems, with ways to measure and document existence. Think of it as an obsessive act of archiving the present moment. It makes me wonder what it feels like to translate life itself into numbers, don't you find? Editor: Absolutely! It's like she's trying to trap time on the page, quantifying its passage. But what about the nonsensical text that sits side by side with numbers? Is it also code of some kind? Curator: Maybe the words themselves aren’t what’s important, but the act of writing them is, almost like a ritual. It’s less about legibility and more about a haptic and meditative exploration. Perhaps language fails us, and numbers provide a stricter control. It’s almost comforting, but unnerving at the same time. Does this appeal to you, the numerical language, perhaps? Editor: Yes, I'm definitely intrigued! It presents a unique view into the artist's processing of time and its connection to her identity through this ritualistic inscription of both numbers and language. Curator: And sometimes, it's the obsessive quality, the sheer dedication to this project, that becomes the artwork itself. An intimate peek into an artist's mind trying to make sense of it all, you know?