itting patiently on its massive web,
a golden spider about the size of a man’s hand holds
court in Tomás Saraceno’s studio. The web is attached
to a frame, but – arachnophobes be warned – there
is no glass case. A microphone amplifies vibrations
travelling through the web (generated by the spider, its
prey, or ecological interference), while a camera films
particles of dust as they dance along to the vibrations,
visitors’ breath or air currents.
From cosmic dust to sound waves, Saraceno is
fascinated by what is in the air around us. Then again,
there is little that doesn’t stir his curiosity: bubbles,
the moon, dolphins – it all finds its way into his art.
In his office, the book How the Hippies Saved Physics lies
on a table near Naomi Klein’s book on climate change.
Walking around his sprawling Berlin studio, Saraceno
expresses his thoughts with infectious enthusiasm,
veering from one barely finished sentence to another
in an attempt to keep up with the activity of his brain.
As disparate as the elements of his work may appear,
there is an underlying theme: to ‘learn how to see
reality otherwise’, as the philosopher Michael Marder
writes (see page 380). Saraceno encourages us to take
a fresh look at our presence in the world. How do we
relate to our surroundings, how do we behave, how do
we engage with one another and with other species?
His approach calls upon science, technology,
architecture and philosophy to develop his art. Partners
in his ongoing research have included the Max Planck
Institute, the Massachusetts Institute of Technology,
and the Natural History Museum in London. In 2009
he was the sole artist among 120 engineers at Nasa’s
International Space Studies Program. He explains that
in urgent times ‘we have to lose the comfort zones
of our silos and rethink the world together’.
Every artist is singular, but Saraceno might be
particularly so. His CV reads that he ‘lives and works
in and beyond the planet Earth’, He imagines living
in floating cells, jamming with spiders, and nothing
short of creating the next geological era. Marder puts
him into the category of ‘thinker-artist’. Jean de Loisy,
president of the Palais de Tokyo in Paris, says there are
about ten artists in the world who push the boundaries
of their field to such an extent: ‘What makes him an
artist is that his belief system ends up as actual things.’
This autumn, Saraceno takes over the entire Palais
de Tokyo with a solo show titled ‘On Air’, his largest
project to date. ‘I have rarely seen an audience for his
work that was not stupefied by the poetry,’ says de
Loisy. ‘At first, simply marvelling before the beauty of
nature, then understanding the meaning. What he
proposes is not just poetic and moving; it is necessary.’
Born in 1973 in Argentina, Saraceno is from a family
of scientists. When he was a baby, the family escaped
the military dictatorship by (continued on page 352) »
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