DELAY [fr. retard]
A work can only go in the Retard
if it has been exhibited before in the Emergency Room.
For the normal contemporary art consumer the Delay Museum must seem
very fresh, as a work can be in the Retard room only the day after.
What is “declassé” for us by leaving the Emergency Room
to the “Delay Museum”,
may look very fresh for an art lover.
An art work is, as we know, a delay in glass.
Glass is a substance which floats very, very slowly.
The art work waits for a reflection of the spectator in the glass.
The spectator is delayed.
The art work is waiting.
Time is running.
Sand and silica is floating, slowly.
A portraited lady, a stormy landscape, a group of persons
or a still life has either not much likelihood back,
or is urbanized, dead, or moulted into potassium carbonate.
The abstraction is gently becoming more and more figurative.
A red square slowly transforms itself into a Russian Babuschka
A cool appropriation piece becomes – without nobody noticing it –
rather original in it’s handling.
The art work gets sad and sadder.
One day a spectator notices the sadness of the art work
The spectator starts thinking about sand running through hands,
water running through rivers and stuff like that.
And the spectator goes on, meditating upon things undone
which can never be done,
things done which can’t be made undone,
the already madeness of art.
In this mood the spectator sees the art work
and the art work gazes back to the spectator.
They understand each other,
they rejoice with a sad delight in a meeting
which is too late.
They are both meditating the meeting
which never took place four-hundred years ago,
twenty years age, some weeks ago,
They are too late.
The accident has already taken place.
The arm is broken.
by Thierry Geoffroy /
Colonel ( link to