Tracing for Changes and Disappearances #32 (5 of 11) 1982

Editor: John Cage's "Tracing for Changes and Disappearances #32 (5 of 11)" from 1982, rendered in pencil, feels like a blueprint or a map. There's a delicate fragility to the lines. What do you see in this piece that I might be missing? Curator: I see a meticulous exploration of process and its direct link to the materials used. Consider the "tracing" in the title. It emphasizes Cage’s physical interaction, almost a tactile dialogue with the paper and pencil. These are not precious materials, hinting at the everyday, the accessible. How does this de-emphasizing of high materials influence your reading of it? Editor: I guess it makes it feel less precious, more about the act of creating than the final product itself. Is that what you mean by "labor?" Curator: Precisely. The act of repeated tracing, the visible calculations, the almost scientific notation, speak to a specific labor. Think about the 1980s. Do you find these somewhat crude markings a possible reaction to the slick, mass-produced aesthetic that dominated much of the visual landscape then? Editor: That's a great point. Seeing the hand so directly involved is a powerful counterpoint to that. I see your point about challenging boundaries between "high art" and this more "everyday" type of creating. It becomes a type of record of simple action. Curator: And it opens the question of "finished" versus "process." The pencil markings highlight both the tangible tools used and the artist's physical actions. I think it highlights what can be made with next to nothing. What would happen if we centered "usefulness" or "accessibility" or "process" when determining the worth of artwork? Editor: This makes me think about what *we* value, not just as art appreciators, but more broadly. I’m now re-considering where worth comes from when making any kind of aesthetic or moral judgements.