What Remains in Objects

A tool may no longer be in use, yet its form still speaks of the movement of a hand, the repetition of an action, and years of labor. A key may no longer open a door, yet it continues to evoke entry, access, or privacy. A carpet may be associated with sitting together, gathering, hospitality, the home, and collective memory. A discarded car, too, was once a means of transportation and is now a remnant of its former function. Despite their differences in form and use, each of these objects retains traces of life. That life may no longer be unfolding, but its signs remain. These are objects in which life has settled and accumulated over time. This text has been written in the context of the exhibition Hidden Life and in relation to its central themes.