Truism 1977

Editor: Here we have Jenny Holzer's "Truism" from 1977, presented as a simple poster. It's a collection of statements, almost like aphorisms, in a straightforward font. Honestly, it feels a little unsettling—like a list of commandments, but cynical ones. What do you make of it? Curator: Unsettling is spot-on. For me, it's like stumbling upon ancient wisdom scrawled on a bathroom wall. It grabs you. Are these truths, half-truths, blatant lies? I read it and I’m asking myself: is revolution truly just an adolescent fantasy, or does that thought serve some other purpose? How do these ideas bounce off each other – and in me? It challenges assumptions and refuses easy answers, and in this age of digital clamor and instant opinions, I'm always game for art that forces us to really, *really* think. How does it make you feel? Editor: Definitely uncomfortable, in a way that I think is productive? Like I want to argue with it. The one that gets me is, “The more you know the better off you are." It feels true and untrue at the same time, especially now with so much information, or misinformation, at our fingertips. Curator: Yes, it's that friction between statement and context that really fuels its power. Holzer was tapping into something profound about the nature of belief itself, especially our desire for certainties in an uncertain world. Truisms, she suggests, aren’t handed down, they're up for grabs. They are made, contested, broken down and then made again. Even our moral ones. Like that one about disagreeing presupposing integrity! I can get behind *that*. Editor: So it’s less about the 'truth' and more about provoking a response? I suppose that is the nature of the work. Curator: Absolutely. Holzer turns us into active participants. And maybe, just maybe, inspires us to question the little truths we carry around ourselves. Editor: It certainly made me rethink a few of my own! Curator: Me too. And I am going to need a very large whiteboard.