ANIZOTROPIA
We stand in wonder at the gates of Being, undeterred by the sufferings of the world. From the perspective of the here and now, unrestrainedly Being-in-the-world, how to reconcile these all the varieties of the experience of time? Subject, object, place, world, cosmos, infinity, chaos. If we were to disentangle the difficult correlations between subject and object/thought and being, and their internal contradictions, from the pure reality of things Doing-in-the-world, and the anachronistic dogma of aesthetics, what kind of objects would issue forth? The apodixis of an object would be in itself an ideal form, circling back to the Platonic tradition. The only gateway to escape from the burden of time, of death, is the world of myth – the eternal return: In “Anizotropia”, Valentin Korzhov returns to the origin of Chaos, Hesiod's theogony, where Cronus, a primary divinity, also identified with unending duration, prior to Cosmos, begets Aether, Chaos and the Night as spirit-matter, the bound and infinite, from which everything springs, equipped with 'neither limit nor foundation'. In this world of ancestrality, matter is ready-at-hand in the Heideggerian sense of thrown-ness, and unmediated existence coalesces with truthfulness. These sculptural interventions might not appear logical from the perspective of linear time, but insofar as they have broken the correctness of representation at the heart of the Western tradition, they do not speak of abstraction or figuration, but of present-ness – simultaneously existing in different tenses, in the underlying tensions of the hypokeimenon but without a reference to fall back upon. Without future or past, speaking from a primeval void, these creative acts move through an ethereal space, not grounded in mathematical surfaces or in the regimes of historical consciousness; they're not grounded in general.
The unconscious shines forth from the source of the mystery, throwing us upon the most vertiginous truth: Freedom is a foundation that doesn't found.
The unconscious shines forth from the source of the mystery, throwing us upon the most vertiginous truth: Freedom is a foundation that doesn't found.