Everywhere people talk about innovation. Not necessarily as an unconditional embrace of technology, not as an outstanding pulse of scientific research, but by incorporating some improving elements or efficient initiatives in the production process. We all must be innovative to be better, to be different. Yes, innovation is the buzzword of these times.
Do we really know what it is that is forcing us to innovate? I’m afraid not much. Behind this hackneyed word remain hidden the old dogmas, the same bigoted attitudes, the inalienable conservative principles, and this stagnation always leads nowhere. Step by step, the concept of nowhere, a “non-place”, is becoming familiar to us. But indeed we demand that space have its coordinates, its understandable dimensions. Hoteliers assert that they must change the way they host, but the non-reception is on this “non-place” reacting against the welcome liturgy because, after all, it is a hotel for business travelers. We understand that a room does not have to be L-shaped, but to use another letter of the alphabet, we could stretch it a bit and make it U-shaped. Yes, sometimes we think about how to surprise a guest in the bathroom. But a tap is always a faucet, and a sink, just a sink.
Thus, let’s see who can actually innovate. In architecture, sometimes it happens that the genius exists in turning one’s head and looking at the landscape from a different perspective, toward what was built or what is to be built. It is not a question of designing a house, nor practicing the usual architectural model, nor innovating by way of the convention, because by choosing this way, nobody can innovate. We have to turn back our thoughts. We need to convulse everything we think about the senses, breaking everything that has already been done. We have to give the story a kick.
Otherwise, how can anybody understand all that Picasso painted? What the hell was Malevich proposing? How did Andy Warhol win his fame?
Toiling for more than a decade on his The Factory project, the genius of pop art seemed exhausted from creation (and parties) after touching upon every imaginable art form: photography, television, cinema, music, advertising, fashion… Nothing escaped his area of interest, except painting. Nothing at all, until the mid-seventies, when urinating on a fabric treated with copper paint, he accidentally discovered the fascinating chemical reaction that produces oxidation on materials. And he began to paint madly. He put all the people from The Factory to work on his oxidations series peeing on various materials in unbridled urinary promiscuity. He sprayed metallic pigments on canvas and called his friends to piss on them, pissing without stop. Thereby, the pop genius Warhol also became an abstract artist, like Jackson Pollock was some years earlier. An immortal artist, as Leonardo was in his Last Supper.
Today, Andy Warhol is one of the most valued painters in the world and an icon for all living and future generations of artists. All thanks to a timely leak. Thanks to a turnaround and doing things differently. Because that is innovation, or in this way, the innovation process takes on things without the slab of the past, without any academic rigor, nor false dithyrambics. Researching about spaces. Transgressing the customary. Disturbing the tranquility of emotion. Breaking up the indissoluble and inseparable.
And thinking now and then with the urinary tract, as Andy Warhol did.
Fernando Gallardo |