Head of Invention 1989

Editor: So, here we have Eduardo Paolozzi's 'Head of Invention' from 1989, a monumental metal sculpture. It’s quite… disjointed, wouldn’t you say? Almost fragmented, but powerful in its own way. What do you see when you look at this piece? Curator: Oh, it’s like the artist reached into the collective unconscious, didn't it? For me, Paolozzi is wrestling with the fractured nature of modern thought. It's this head, exploded into different planes, yet striving for cohesion. It's funny, it reminds me of that feeling of information overload you get scrolling through the news; everything broken, decontextualized. Do you pick up on that at all, or is it just me rambling about the internet? Editor: No, I see what you mean. It's like he’s taken a familiar form – a head – and subjected it to some kind of technological or intellectual process, a fragmentation that speaks to the modern human experience. Are those words etched into the surface? Curator: They are! Bits of text, fragments of scientific or industrial jargon. For me they suggest an incomplete glossary, hinting that meaning is both embedded and perpetually elusive. Think about that! Meaning might actually be buried WITHIN! Is the artist suggesting invention isn't about pristine newness, but about reconfiguring what already exists, those disparate bits? I'm struck by how incredibly tactile it is too - imagine touching the weathered metal. Editor: Absolutely. The scale also amplifies the idea, makes it feel almost… overwhelming. So, instead of a smooth, idealized head, we have this complex, almost chaotic form. And that is supposed to represent innovation. Right! It almost makes you rethink the conventional image of a solitary genius coming up with something fully formed out of nowhere. Thanks. Curator: Precisely! So, it is no single genius – that notion in and of itself!–, but instead maybe genius born from collective pieces… maybe Paolozzi had a great sense of humor when he did this. Food for thought, indeed!