‘One minute to read:
Fifty-nine, fifty-eight, fifty-seven, fifty-six, fifty-five, fifty-four, fifty-three, fifty-two, fifty-one, fifty, forty-nine, forty-eight, forty-seven, forty-six, forty-
five, forty-four, forty-three, forty-two, forty-one, forty, thirty-nine, thirtyeight, thirty-seven, thirty-six, thirty-five, thirty-four, thirty-three, thirtytwo, thirty-one, thirty, twenty-nine, twenty-eight, twenty-seven, twentysix, twenty-five, twenty-four, twenty-three, twenty-two, twenty-one,
twenty, nineteen, eighteen, seventeen, sixteen, fifteen, fourteen, thirteen, twelve, eleven, ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, zero.
One minute of silence for no reason. For nobody. For nothing. Just one minute for yourself. One minute to gain or to lose, to spill or to use. Up to you.’
Kris Martin, June 2007
Kris Martin’s appeal to maintain a minute’s silence during the fair was an act that engaged every visitor and participant. Unspecified as to who or what it commemorated, this universal gesture aimed to induce the audience to embrace a moment of reflection, succeeding in temporarily stilling the wheels of commerce.
Morbid and absurd, Martin’s works describe the form of particular kinds of possibility, the outcomes of which are always uncertain. Like Mandi III (2003), a departure board whose everchanging black plates promise information they never deliver, or 100 years (2004), a bomb set to explode in 2104, Martin’s time-based sculpture is simultaneously tangible and unknowable.
Kris Martin (b.1972) is a Belgian artist based in Ghent. Martin has recently participated in the group exhibitions ‘Some Time Waiting’, Kadist Art Foundation, Paris; ‘Learn to Read’, Tate Modern, London (both 2007); and ‘Of Mice and Men: 4th Berlin Biennial for Contemporary Art’ (2006).