Southern Cross 1970

Cildo Meireles’ ‘Southern Cross’ is a small wooden cube, like a toy, or the start of a game. And it sits there, on a finger, looking unassuming, as though it doesn't have any significance. I like to imagine the artist making it, whittling away, shaving and shaping. How did he manage not to crush it? What was his intention for it? Did he have a clear plan for how it would look? Or did he discover something unexpected? There's something playful and subversive about its smallness, the way it kind of hides in plain sight. It reminds me of the work of another artist, Hélio Oiticica, also Brazilian, who was making artworks during a similar period. Both of them shared a desire to challenge the idea of what art could be, and who it could speak to. As artists, we are all in an ongoing conversation across time, inspiring one another’s creativity and continually finding new ways of expression. It's like we are embracing ambiguity and uncertainty, and allowing for multiple interpretations of meaning, over fixed or definitive readings.