"Untitled" (A Corner of Baci) 1990

Curator: In 1990, Félix González-Torres created "Untitled" (A Corner of Baci). It's fascinating how he transformed everyday, commercially produced sweets into something deeply contemplative. Editor: It feels…almost unstable. A glittering cascade of impermanence pinned into a corner. All those little wrappers look like discarded husks, like after a celebration—or a feast—the quiet left after love or lust, both satisfied and... somehow sorrowful. Curator: Exactly. This isn't just about sweets; it’s about love, loss, and the ephemeral nature of life. The Baci chocolates, piled up against the wall, represent a weight, but also potential energy, and each represents an individual entity in a larger unit. Viewers are invited to take a piece. Editor: The action of taking one... That's critical to the concept, isn't it? Like, consuming an artwork seems almost sacrilegious in traditional art circles, but this deliberate accessibility transforms the artistic experience itself. By using readily available, mass-produced items like chocolates, there's this subversive shift that democratizes art, bringing it down from the untouchable pedestal to a level that encourages open access and interaction. The line between 'high' art and everyday materials blurs here and opens up conversations about consumption. Curator: Yes. This dissolution, this giving away, directly engages with themes of disappearance. Each stolen chocolate is like a stolen moment, a subtle echo of the AIDS crisis, in which the body itself disappears piece by piece. This piece directly evokes decay, as he directly engages the act of sharing with vulnerability. Editor: Thinking about the context and González-Torres’ personal life adds another dimension. These shimmering treats carry layers of political and emotional weight beyond what's on the wrapper. He truly mastered making potent metaphors out of common items. Curator: Right. It makes you question the inherent value of things – material and immaterial. How does value shift through experience and sharing? Editor: Exactly. What remains once something physical is used up, consumed, given away? This piece provides a surprisingly profound reminder that maybe what we consider precious is just as precious in disappearance, as it is in being there in the first place.