Untitled 1992

David Hammons made this untitled piece out of twigs and rocks - or potatoes? - and dust. It’s the kind of palette you find if you look down: dirt, greys, browns. It’s almost anti-color, which is interesting because he clearly wants to work with texture, with material. Look at how the twigs are arranged, shooting out in all directions. Each one seems deliberately placed, and the dust clinging to them gives them a ghostly, aged quality. It’s all so tactile, you know? Like you could just reach out and feel the grittiness of the dust. But you can't. The arrangement is both chaotic and precise, and reminds me of a cityscape or a desolate landscape. Hammons reminds me of Eva Hesse, in that he takes unremarkable, throwaway materials, and makes them precious. This is a conversation about value. It's about looking at what's around us. About seeing art where we least expect it. About the ongoing exchange of ideas across time.