15/1 (2)
Diann Bauer, Valentin Bontjes van Beek, Jeremy Deadman, Lynn Harris and Sam Ely, Mark Harris, Denise Hawrysio, James Porter, Nike Savvas, Alex Schady, DJ Simpson, Fergal Stapleton, Peter Suchin, Roxie Welsh, and Richard Wentworth
15/1 (2) was the second of three iterations of a process-based exhibition originally devised by Denise Hawrysio in 1992 at the Malania Basarab Gallery, the premise of which was a form of “compositional anarchy”. See also 15/1 and 15/1 (3).
Fifteen artists were each given two days to work within the gallery space, with the freedom to alter or move — but not to remove — anything the previous artists had done before them. Specific artwork was not curated; instead, the artists participated in a month-long process, after which the resulting installation was opened to the public.
Curated by Hawrysio in conjunction with 1 000 000 mph founder Dallas Seitz, the project was intended to function as a catalyst for action and reaction. By stepping away from what Hawrysio described as the looming “institutional furniture” of the traditional art museum, the show sought to become a “laboratory for social imagination” for both participants and viewers. Drawing inspiration from the chance operations of John Cage and the Fluxus movement, the exhibition explored the possibilities of not-knowing and the fragile social interactions that bind fugitive art communities. It was an experiment that prioritised a Brechtian friction of “problems and conflicts” over easy answers or solutions.
The physical outcome of this month-long accumulation was described by critic Sally O’Reilly in Art Monthly as looking like “the contents of a whole studio block swept up by a twister and dumped in Kansas”. Within the space, layers upon layers of cross-references spilled off the walls and sprouted from a “mutilated floor”. The interventions ranged from the architectural to the atmospheric. Valentin Bontjes van Beek suspended a triangular wedge cut from the false floor using ropes and pulleys, while Diann Bauer contributed a rough, rat-infested wall painting of a Japanese warrior. Perhaps the most all-pervasive influence came from Richard Wentworth, who wrapped the gallery’s strip lighting in pages from a London A‑Z, subtly altering the entire ambience of the space.
Despite Denise’s intentional focus on social discourse, the review in Art Monthly noted that the outcome often felt more like a “battle of wills than an exploration of possibilities”. O’Reilly observed a “perpetual process of negation” where, as one artist undid the meaning of another, the momentum was lost and the collaboration failed to become cumulative. The history of the show’s development became so jumbled that it was considered far too complex to follow without detailed documentary evidence.
For the participating artists, the experience required a radical shift in their relationship to authorship and control. Jeremy Deadman remarked that “It’s not just a matter of being happy enough with your artwork to show it, you also have to be happy enough to never see it in that state again.”
Mark Harris said he was “a bit shocked” when his turn came and he first entered the gallery: “All the space was filled up.” He noted that while the 1992 iteration allowed viewers to chart each stage of the show, here the layers of intervention became so dense that “… the history seemed impossible to trace.” Fergal Stapleton viewed the project as a “string of accidents” that became so impersonal he occasionally “felt like a different artist”.
Ultimately, for some, 15/1 (2) remained an “indigestible scrubland of incoherent fragments” — a provocative testament to the unpredictable nature of collective production.
Press
