“For futurologists all times are the present” (Darius Mikšys)

One of my friends told me that she had a dream last night in which she went to the opening of Documenta and somehow managed to break the most precious paintings and sculptures and everything else. She didn’t know how she did it. Me neither—she looks so tiny. All the pieces fell down in such a terrible way that no one could reconstruct them ever after. In the dream, she nearly burst into tears at the thought that, somehow, she managed to destroy all the best pieces by the best artists in the whole world (she nearly said the best world). Naturally, she was scared in her dream. Not for herself, of course (or so she told me), but because she felt that her actions were not unlike those of the Nazis—she had destroyed priceless pieces of art. And in this way she had added new value to the phrase “Mission Accomplished”, which was also the title of Bush’s scandalous speech on the deck of USS Abraham Lincoln.

As the first Documenta was organised as a direct and obvious comment on the infamous Nazi propaganda exhibition Degenerate Art (Entartete Kunst) held in 1937, my friend thought that she had destroyed all Documenta’s efforts. Although we could have had the obvious discussion about the differences between her actions and those of the Nazis, I asked her instead which Documenta it was that she had dreamt of? When it actually took place every five years, she never went to Documenta.

“So what happened next in you dream?” I asked her to finish her nightmare out of pure curiosity.
“I went to the past,” she said, “to change the present.”
“And the future,” she added.

To go to the past you have to go to the future first (but who wants to go to the future, again?), as time machines exist in the future only. Unless, you use inter-personal mythology or fiction as the time machine. For example, Victor Vasarely, who, beside everything else, also participated in Documenta 1, was always saying that he was born in 1705¹ instead of 1906. This slight difference of 201 years might look tiny and trivial if you take it as a joke. But what would his mom say about this?

In the same bizarre way that she had smashed all the works of art, my friend went to the future and then, using the time machine of course, to the past. There she realised she went too far as she appeared on Orson Welles 1938 radio adaptation of H. G. Wells’ classic novel The War of the Worlds, in the episode where Welles played recordings of Herbert Morrison’s radio reports of the 1937 Hindenburg disaster. But in all this, all she could remember was the text of a radio advertisement which she said she could repeat by heart. She did so and here is what she heard:

I would like to invite you to participate in the speculative-imaginary project that will take the form of a special supplement of Aprior magazine (Brussels). What I would like to ask from you is very simple—please send me a brief proposal for the Documenta exhibition in Kassel. Together with 19 other proposals, your idea will comprise an individual publication of 32 pages, b/w, 5000 copies, to be distributed for free at Art Brussels and Documenta 12. It is scheduled to be released in mid-April of this year.

The deadline for your proposal is very close—it has to be received by March 15, yet there is a certain advantage to having this shortage of days to think. The time span that your proposal should address is rather indefinite. Any Documenta—whether it is the first one in 1955 or the last one in 2002 or the 19th one in 2042 [...]—is at your disposal. In classic Sci-Fi tradition, wherein time-travelling manipulations of the past may change the future (like the narratology of La Jetée or Terminator), travelling in the future may also affect the past. Please feel free to navigate past or future extensively while changing the course of events that have passed and those to come.

Moreover we do not have to stick to the linear notion of time. We can multiply Documenta in parallel dimensions of time and alter it irreversibly (the content of this project is not going to be in any way negotiated or authorised by Documenta authorities.) Please do not forget to acknowledge (or construct) the position in time, which your proposal is coming from. Maybe you can shoot your idea from the nineteenth century straight to the ‘50s or come from the future to Okwui Enwezor’s hands via today. To make things easier (and to save your time), together with Dexter Sinister who will design the publication, we have devised a special template for your proposal: it indicates both the temporal or historic position of the addressee as well as the sender. Itis attached as a pdf file to my message. Please fill it in and send it back to us.We will be very happy to receive it (on time.) Thanks a lot. If you have any questions, do not hesitate to contact me.

Very much looking forward to hearing from you soon…

easy,
rai

P.S. Although we all know that Documenta is an exhibition of art, I assume your proposal does not have to include only art work(s) —it could develop as a curatorial, strategic, political or administrative idea. However, given that art is rapidly converging with other human spheres and services, I would not like you to specify whether yours is an artistic or para-artistic project. Enjoy your trip!”

Suddenly, after this, she realised that it was now her time to talk: ‘“Hello to all the fans of Sci-Fi, this is me!”she introduced herself to the invisible and mute audience. And suddenly, the past perfect tense of real and fictitious reality and history shifted to the past, present, past future tenses in non-obligatory order.
The presenter was William Blake and the audience call was by Laurence Weiner. Was this a case of all times being present tense and active wherever the radio was switched on? If yes, what happened when the listeners switched it on or off (she was sure many of them did so as the show was more than weird)? If phones could teleport you in Matrix, then why can’t radios or magazines or exhibitions do it?

Then she thought about listeners and became one of them. She chose not to think about anything as she was afraid to think about something unpleasant and to become it. Instead, she thought about pleasures and she became something pleasant. Then she thought that she finally had a power. And she realised that the time machine, as a possibility to legitimize history and the present by re-enactments, impersonations and time-travelling, could help her to shift the power relations we have. Also it could help to re-position not only fictional or historical figures and events of the past, but also to add more figures to the game. To the present. To reality.

Then she went back to the first scene of her dream. No art pieces fell down this time. My friend couldn’t wait for her next dream now. She said she missed William Blake a lot.

¹ Victor Vasarely . Last accessed April 2, 2007