~ for Untitled

Excerpts from What is happening here? [exploits of the nonhuman], Gaietto, Thesis. 2019.

The Furred

Looking -- Seeing -- Being -- with the dog, cat, and fox

Throughout this discussion of the works comprising The Furred, the primary questions being asked are ‘Who sees?’, ‘How do they see?’ and ‘What do they see?’ These questions are largely unanswerable as Thomas Nagel tells us, “Our own experience provides the basic material for our imagination, whose range is therefore limited.”[1] Here the importance is not a falsely claimed knowledge of what the dog, the fox, or the cat can or does see; but to ask these questions and accept there is an answer that we cannot and will not be able to know. There are three primary works which will be discussed here, Who Looks Back, Encounters with Her Presence (composed of three parts), and ‘Miss Maddie Dog performs Being a Dog.’ Each work will be discussed in detail and then examined using the diagram primary modes of non-cartesian representation, and then the function of non—Cartesian representation.

Who Looks Back?

  ~ for Untitled

Everything that I  am about to entrust to you no doubt comes back to asking you to respond to me, you, to me, reply to me concerning what it is to respond. If you can. . .[2]

Who Looks Back is an act of appreciation of the nonhuman, of Untitled. 

We share our ecologies.

We enact our agencies.

We are a multiplicity of our many entangled histories.[3]

Who Looks Back is a sculptural intervention into a non-art space at Beaconsfield Gallery Vauxhall. An intervention aimed at specifying space dedicated to the popular nonhuman resident. This resident is a cat, deemed Untitled by the gallery staff. As a practical matter this sculpture shields her food from slugs, it provides a safe perch from which she can survey her home, and it provides warmth during cold times. This intervention is an act of care for Her and a recognition of Her presence.

Who Looks Back, as a title, is a reflection on the above Derrida quote and the expanded text of The Animal that Therefore I Am. This text begins with a discussion of the cat looking at him and seeing his naked body. He speaks of following: of the limitations of gratitude, of shame, nakedness, of consciousness — this is the point of primary concern. Here I am thinking of the reciprocity of looking and seeing, of extending gratitude towards this member of the gallery as far as possible — to appreciate this particular cat and the benefits her presence brings to the space and to her human co-habitants.

Looking is a reciprocal act that extends in time and space through the histories that made this moment and makes for our potential futures. This work positions the act of reciprocal looking as a space through a shared encounter revealing the shaping of social landscapes of our future, related to this shared material landscape. This work has been installed in two parts. The first installation was late-Spring of 2016. It was constructed of wood and rope, with no other materials. This bed was positioned underneath the fire escape. However it seemed to create desire in child-humans as well as Untitled and the weight of the human bodies quickly broke the structure. The second iteration was installed in early 2017. This construction responded to the destruction of its predecessor - suspended and delicate - an attempt to disinvite human ‘participants’. The bed is the width of the fire escape and is attached by bespoke hooks and can easily be taken down when needed and then re-hung. The bed frame is designed with a cool metallic webbed area for the cat to enjoy in warmer times, and then a self-heating pad is placed during cold temperatures. The frame also accommodates two bowls, water and food, easily removable for cleaning. The black and silver construction blends with the existing aesthetics of the fire escape in order to not attract the attention of small humans.

The bed becomes a space designated for the cat, and allows her a perch to look at humans as they may look at her. From this emerges a simultaneous and duplicitous presence of the cat; she is revealed yet, not framed. As the cat looks back, she looks with her histories of her individual self and of cat-ness. She came to the gallery as an apparent stray and made herself a home, receiving free access to the gallery spaces during opening hours and access to storage facilities for after-hours safety. As cat-ness, she brings histories of cats bred and used to combat mice and rat infestations, as cats left to fend for themselves as strays, the growing population of discarded animate rubbish a by-product of human interactions . . . The gallery inhabitants bring histories of their individual selves, their histories of art activities leading to the establishment of the gallery, and their histories and expectations of animals. All parties chose to create the specific ecology of this gallery, an alternative art establishment adopted by a cat - who has free-ish reign over her chosen territory. This ecology allows for the cat-ness to be revealed as an actant that looks, sees, and is with her human co-habitants. The sculpture for this cat is an intervention into the social landscape of the gallery and generates a slippage of the status of art and the actions of nonhumans to enmesh in a visible emergence of shared social and cultural agency.

Modes of Non-Cartesian Representation 

The main mode of NCR enacted through this work is reciprocity. First, the work is action-orientated. The initial action is the designation of a space for the sole use of this nonhuman resident. Then, the action of building and installing the bed, with continued action through the use of the bed and the space by this cat. These actions are then complemented through the actions of gallery visitors noticing the bed and engaging in conversations around this installation. This was most notably demonstrated by the attendees of the Landscapes of the Future panel discussion. The gallery director, Naomi Siderfin, introduced me through this specific work and this work was then the primary focus of questions from the audience. The audience was keen to speak of the relationship of this cat to the gallery and the designation of a space for recognition. This continued with conversations around the installation following the talk and every visit I have made to the gallery since. The intentional use of reciprocity and the subsequent conversations demonstrate the direct revelation of the presence of the cat and present relationships to the cat, as well as the past and future relations of human and cat. These speculations have not been restricted to this gallery cat, but through conversations these notions have extended to the gallery space and the cat in a more abstracted and expanded sense. This work calls for a response by the viewer, either through recognition or even through inviting ‘wanted’ contact with the cat and the donation of gifts. I have and will continue to argue that this installation benefits the viewer more than the cat; she was content before and continues to be content in her living space now. The action of designating the space for the nonhuman was of primary import by directing specific attention to her presence. Through the recognition of her presence, the viewing audience is offered a direct opportunity to look, see, and be with Untitled.

Often I have encountered people asking me about making artwork for the animal as audience, the cat is not the audience of this artwork. The cat is invited to make use of, in a functional manner, this artwork — but the audience is the human gallery visitor. This is an art-based action to enact the mode of slippage by highlighting an opportunity for the viewer to engage in a sense of interconnectedness to this specific cat. These continuous cycles of viewer revision through encounter, experience, and conversation can, but do not always, lead to moving past this audience confusion. This is a performance of entanglement, through the language and ethics of recognition.

Potential States of Re-Enchantment

To speak through the lens of re-enchantment, this work remains nebulous. Depending on the time of viewer engagement, the degree of representation can be quite unknown. Without the presence of the cat, or prior knowledge of this resident, the sculptural intervention is quite unnoticeable. If noticed, without prior knowledge of the cat resident, the sculpture does not make sense and may seem a bit odd or out of place. If the viewer has knowledge of the cat resident, then even without her actual presence, the degree of her presence is still high which then allows for an immediate emergence of her as an authentic, visible nonhuman agent. The degree of translation has little to no effect on this reading. In terms of (dis)(re)enchantment, each viewer is different depending on their prior perspective and if they have experienced the cat’s presence. As a whole, through anecdotal observations and conversations, I would hazard a guess that the viewers move from threshold three towards threshold four in varying degrees. There have been several viewers wanting to purchase a bed for themselves (or rather their cat), but I have steadfastly refused as this is for her and her alone. The askers are always confused when I initially refuse, but then fall onto a spectrum of bemused to positively puzzled when I explain my position. I do think this exchange increases the degree of re-enchantment each time.

Untitled was always present in the gallery, and visible to some (mostly as a toy to be stroked while waiting for lunch). However, following the installation and introduction of this work her presence is more visible as an autonomous entity. This work operates through an engagement with social agency, highlighting the relationship of this cat to the viewers visiting this gallery. Through this specific locating of the actors, the entanglements of existence are given space to emerge.

. . . The said question of the said animal speaks but whether one can know what respond means. And how to distinguish a response from a reaction.[4]

[1] Nagel, “What is it Like?” 439.

[2] Derrida, The Animal, 8.

[3] Gaietto, Who Looks Back, installation text.

[4] Derrida, The Animal, 8.