Otto Boll
From →
Antwerp
Pictures of the exhibition
Otto Boll
From →
Antwerp
Story of the exhibition
Tipping into Infinity
Otto Boll is an artist who operates from an expressly minimalist sensibility. His works—acutely reduced forms of steel—hover in space, almost cutting through it. Suspended by barely visible nylon threads, these sculptures—lines drawn in space—seem to float, inhabiting the air overhead. Using 3mm strips of steel, of which he sharpens the tip until he achieves a point so fine that its outer limit disappears, the artist is capable of shaping visual statements that linger precariously on the edge: the works oscillate between presence and absence, the seen and the unseen, suggesting both materiality and the void. The artist is thereby able to unsettle the viewer’s conception of solidity.
One determinant of my work is my discontent with the established visions on the world around; it cannot be possible, that what we see is all we can see and will see. A new vision cannot simply originate from things perceived, cannot be achieved just by the synthesis of values drawn from previous experience. I intend to search for what I hope to find: The visible not yet visible; spatial expansion of thought and feeling
In some aspects austere, Otto Boll’s work reveals a pared-down simplicity that produces an artistic statement that’s at odds with the visual (and virtual) atmosphere that surrounds us. Rather than being a point or an exclamation mark in empty space, the work can be seen to perform the function of a hyphen, a connecting bridge, which instils in contemporary viewers a much-needed pause or hiatus, a point of non-definition that oscillates in a state of flux. The work provides a much-needed silence, giving practice for the viewer to assume a state of release “vis-à-vis” the potential, the irresolvable and the unknown, providing a quiet point around which we can re-orient.
Articulating something that appears to be almost lighter than air, Boll invites us into a state of (possibly uncomfortable) contemplation. One needs to walk around and under the work—in line with minimalist premises—in order to attain a more “complete” experience of the sculptures. The works are, in fact, sculptural events that are activated by the viewer’s real-time multisensory perception.
However, a sense of completion is never achieved, since the hovering sculptures reside in a state of flux. One becomes aware of the dynamic equilibrium that occurs when an artist pulls off the dichotomy of bringing disappearance into focus. At first sight, the works appear to be essentially linear. The void, or spaces they inscribe, raise questions about the dividing line: where does a point become a line, a line a shape, and how exactly does a shape interact with space?
My work—and sculptures in general—must be experienced first-hand. They convey empirical values, i.e. they cannot be compared with anything but themselves. Only their proximity can bring about a pristine experience. Sharing space and time with them makes the experience unique: Sculpture demands our presence, especially in times when the "media" push themselves into the foreground, pretending to be "immediate". This leads to diminished intimacy