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  • Literature

    Jörg Schellmann, ed., Forty Are Better Than One, Munich/New York, 2009, pp. 160-161

  • Catalogue Essay

    THE NEW DISEASE CAME.
    I LEARN THAT TIME DOES NOT HEAL.
    EVERYTHING GETS WORSE WITH DAYS.
    I HAVE SPOTS LIKE A DOG.
    I COUGH AND CANNOT TURN MY HEAD.
    I CONSIDER SLEEPING WITH PEOPLE I DO NOT LIKE.
    I NEED TO LIE BACK TO FRONT WITH SOMEONE WHO ADORES ME.
    I WILL THINK MORE BEFORE I CANNOT.
    I LOVE MY MIND WHEN IT IS FUCKING THE CRACKS OF EVENTS.
    I WANT TO TELL YOU WHAT I KNOW IN CASE IT IS OF USE.
    I WANT TO GO TO THE FUTURE PLEASE.
    IF THE PROCESS STARTS I WILL KILL THIS BABY A GOOD WAY.
    SHE CAN LIE ON MY FAMILIAR BELLY.
    OUR BACKS WILL BE IN LINE AND THEN INDISTINGUISHABLE.
    I WILL TAKE HER DOWN BEFORE SHE FEELS THE FEAR THAT IS CAUSE AND RESULT.
    WITH ONLY MY MIND TO PROTECT ME I GO INTO DAYS.
    WHAT I FEAR IS IN A BOX WITH FUR TO MUFFLE IT.
    EVERY DAY I DO NOTHING BECAUSE I AM SCARED BLANK AND LAZY.
    BUT THEN THE MEN COME.
    I PUT MY MOUTH ON THEM.
    I SPIT AND WRITE WITH THE WET.
    THE WET SAYS WHAT MUST STOP AND WHAT SHALL BEGIN.
    I SPIT BECAUSE THE DEATH SMELL IS TOO CLOSE TO ME.
    THE STINK MAKES WORDS TELL THE TRUTH ABOUT WHO KILLS AND WHO IS THE VICTIM.
    DEATH IS THE MODERN ISSUE.
    NO RECORD OF JOY CAN BE LIKE THE JUICE THAT JUMPS THROUGH YOUR SKULL WHEN YOU ARE PERFECT IN SEX.
    YOU POSITION YOUR SPINE UNTIL IT WAVES.
    YOUR HANDS RUN TO SPOTS THAT FEEL DIFFERENT.
    BREATHING TELLS THE PERSON WHAT TO DO.
    YOU TRY TO STOP BECAUSE THAT IS THE FUN THEN YOU SQUEEZE AND BECOME UNCONSCIOUS NEAR WHOMEVER WHICH IS THE DANGEROUS THING IN THE WORLD.
    AT THE END YOU DO NOT WANT.
    YOU CARRY THIS SENSATION TO THE CRUEL PLACES YOU GO.
    THERE IS NO ONE'S SKIN UNDER MY FINGERNAILS.
    THERE IS NO ONE TO WATCH MY HAIR GROW.
    NO ONE LOOKS AT ME WHEN I WALK.
    PEOPLE WANT ME TO PAY MONEY FOR EACH THING I GET.
    I HAVE EVERY KIND OF THOUGHT AND THAT IS NO EMBARRASSMENT.
    I LOOK AT MYSELF WHEN I BATHE.
    WHAT I GIVE TO ALL THE PEOPLE WHO DO NOT WANT TO LIVE WITH ME IS ARITHMETIC.
    I COUNT INFANTS AND PREDICT THEIR DAYS.
    I SUBTRACT PEOPLE KILLED FOR ONE REASON OR ANOTHER.
    I GUESS THE NEW REASONS AND PROJECT THEIR EFFICACY.
    I DECORATE MY NUMBERS AND CIRCULATE THEM.
    I HAVE A HOT HOLE THAT WAS PUT IN ME.
    I CAN LIVE WITH IT.
    PEOPLE MADE IT AND USE IT TO GET TO ME.
    I CAN HURT IT TOO BUT USUALLY I PUT MY THINKING THERE FOR EXCITEMENT.
    WHEN MY MIND IS RIGHT I CAN SAY WHAT NO ONE WANTS TO HEAR.
    I BRAG ABOUT MY INDIFFERENCE BUT THE LAST KIND PART OF ME RAVES BECAUSE I WILL NOT BE THE ONLY DEAD ONE.
    I KEEP THE HOLE OPEN.
    THE KNIFE CUT RUNS AS LONG AS IT WANTS.
    IT IS THROUGH MY STOMACH.
    I KEEP LOOKING AT IT.
    I HAVE MORE COLORS THAN I WOULD HAVE THOUGHT.
    THE HOLE IS LARGE ENOUGH FOR MY HEAD.
    THE HOLE WAS BIG ENOUGH FOR THEIR HANDS TO MOVE FREELY.
    THEY PUT THEIR FINGERS IN BECAUSE THEY SHOULD NOT AND BECAUSE THEY DO NOT GET THE CHANCE EVERY DAY.
    I WAS SICK FROM ACTING NORMAL.
    I WATCHED REPLAYS OF THE WAR.
    WHEN NOTHING HAPPENED I CLOSED A ZONE WHERE I EXERT CONTROL.
    I FORMED A GOVERNMENT THAT IS AS WELCOME AS SEX.
    I AM GOOD TO PEOPLE UNTIL THEY DO SOMETHING STUPID.
    I STOP THE HABITUAL MISTAKES THAT MAKE FATE.
    I GIVE PEOPLE TIME SO THEY FEEL THEIR LIVES MOVING OVER THEIR SKINS.
    I WANT A LARGER ARENA.
    I TEASE WITH THE POSSIBILITY OF MY ABSENCE.

    I WALK IN.
    I SEE YOU.
    I WATCH YOU.
    I SCAN YOU.
    I WAIT FOR YOU.
    I TICKLE YOU.
    I TEASE YOU.
    I SEARCH YOU.
    I BREATHE YOU.
    I TALK.
    I SMILE.
    I TOUCH YOUR HAIR.
    YOU ARE THE ONE.
    YOU ARE THE ONE WHO DID THIS TO ME.
    YOU ARE MY OWN.
    I SHOW YOU.
    I FEEL YOU.
    I ASK YOU.
    I DON'T ASK.
    I DON'T WAIT.
    I WON'T ASK YOU.
    I CAN'T TELL YOU.
    I LIE.
    I AM CRYING HARD.
    THERE WAS BLOOD.
    NO ONE TOLD ME.
    NO ONE KNEW.
    MY MOTHER KNOWS.
    I FORGET YOUR NAME.
    I DON'T THINK. I BURY MY HEAD.
    I BURY YOUR HEAD.
    I BURY YOU.
    MY FEVER.
    MY SKIN.
    I CANNOT BREATHE.
    I CANNOT EAT.
    I CANNOT WALK.
    I AM LOSING TIME.
    I AM LOSING GROUND.
    I CANNOT STAND IT.
    I CRY.
    I CRY OUT.
    I BITE.
    I BITE YOUR LIP.
    I BREATHE YOUR BREATH.
    I PULSE.
    I PRAY.
    I PRAY ALOUD.
    I SMELL YOU ON MY SKIN.
    I SAY THE WORD.
    I SAY YOUR NAME.
    I COVER YOU.
    I SHELTER YOU.
    I RUN FROM YOU.
    I SLEEP BESIDE YOU.
    I SMELL YOU ON MY CLOTHES.
    I KEEP YOUR CLOTHES.

  • Artist Biography

    Jenny Holzer

    American • 1950

    Jenny Holzer is a Conceptual artist best known for her text-based public art projects. Holzer's work speaks of violence, oppression, sexuality, feminism, power, war and death. Throughout the years, Holzer has employed a variety of media, from a T-shirt to a plaque to an LED sign. Starting in the 1970s with the New York City posters, and continuing through her recent light projections on landscape and architecture, she uses her art as a form of communication and commentary. Holzer's art hangs in important collections around the globe including 7 World Trade Center, the Venice Biennale, the Guggenheim Museums in New York and Bilbao and the Whitney Museum of American Art. 

    View More Works

88

Blue Laments Arno

2008
Semicircular electronic LED sign with blue Osram diodes and electro-polished aluminium housing with seamless light filter.
4.8 x 53 x 27.6 cm (1 7/8 x 20 7/8 x 10 7/8 in.)
Signed in black ink and numbered 14/25 (printed) on a label affixed to the reverse (there were also 5 artist's proofs), published by Schellmann Sprüth Magers Art Production, Berlin.

Estimate
£10,000 - 15,000 

Sold for £30,000

Contact Specialist

Anne Schneider-Wilson

Head of Sale, Senior Specialist 
London
+44 207 4042

Edition Schellmann: Fifty Are Better Than One

London Auction 6 June 2019