Some said that he was smug and self-satisfied. Others contended that he made far too much money for his own good. There were even those who found him rude and obnoxious. Clearly there were some who envied the handsome and well-connected concept sculptor.
A cleaner might earn ten or eleven dollars an hour scrubbing, dusting and polishing. A butcher might make slightly more. There are toilet attendants who earn seven or eight dollars an hour. His conceptual artworks were very popular with the great and the good and Tom could earn $5000 in a single morning.
Very little work and huge profits. What could be better?
Tom had had a brilliant idea. His work was becoming increasingly fragile and invisible. Many artists are preoccupied with the artistic product; Rembrandt actually produced paintings! Tom was having none of it. His focus was the process and the conceptual scaffolding that supported this aesthetic vision.
His most famous piece involved only one sheet of ordinary white paper that was pinned to the gallery wall. Feldman then stared at the paper for 1,000 hours, thus completing the work.
And now Feldman was busy with his most recent artwork and he had decided to employ the services of a witch.
We must understand that the essence of his latest conceptual montage demanded the presence of a high priestess of Voodoo.
Finding one had not been easy but Feldman was no dilettante when it came to his vocation and that very evening he had an appointment with Zadina Minerva, a purveyor of all things mystical and occult.
Zadina was a stunningly good-looking and well-dressed sorceress and Feldman stared at her for several minutes. Zadina whispered softly. “Did you expect an old hag on a broomstick? Well forgive me if I’ve let you down. Just let me tell you that I’m married with two lovely children and two black Labradors!”
Tom emerged instantly from his spell-bound trance. “Please forgive me for my rude behaviour. Please tell me all about your magical services.”
Mrs Minerva had a slick presentation. “Voodoo can bring you the American Dream, Mr Feldman. Regardless of your background, regardless of your beliefs, the ancient art of Voodoo embraces you. Once you open your heart and mind to this awesome power, miraculous changes in your life can bring you instant money, instant love and instant happiness.”
“As a Voodoo sorceress I can make your partner burn with lust for you and you alone! I can return a lost love and awaken them to your irresistible charms. Within days they will rush into your waiting arms.”
“I can enrich your life with money, endless consumption of inane consumer durables and fabulous houses and mansions. All this with just one spell!”
“I can wreak vengeance on any person who has offended you or even criticised your excellent artworks. Your enemies will suffer sleepless nights, develop painful boils all over their bodies and you will savour all their misery while you enjoy peace, comfort and prosperity.”
“Finally I can make you extremely popular with all your friends and admirers.”
Tom had never heard such an unusual presentation. This woman was pressing all the right buttons and he was growing slightly enamoured of this articulate andlucid witch. He refocused and remembered his artistic assignment.
“Well this is great stuff and I’m really impressed but I want you to do something really unusual for me. Do you see that white pedestal over there?”
Zadina nodded.
“Well can you curse the space just above the pedestal?
I want to call this artwork -
Empty Space – Cursed by a Witch.
Could you do that for me? I’m willing to pay you $500 for your services.”
Zadina was happy with the proposal and accepted the assignment.
When the act was done Feldman felt compelled to add further explanation.
“My partner thinks that magic is all a lot of hocus pocus and superstitious nonsense. You see, Zadina, she’s in the grip of an oppressive modernist worldview that only allows science to reveal the truth.
I, on the other hand, am far more tolerant and enlightened than she is. I’m convinced that if you believe in magic, it exists for you and if you
don’t believe in it, it doesn’t exist.
I suppose that I’m your quintessential postmodernist conceptual artist.”
End of parable.
