Chair/Chair 1987

Editor: Richard Artschwager’s sculpture, "Chair/Chair" from 1987, seems deceptively simple. It is crafted from wood and possibly ceramic, though it clearly resembles a chair. I’m initially struck by its slightly unsettling quality—it’s a functional object, but its textures and proportions feel almost dreamlike. What symbolic reading can we give it? Curator: That unsettling quality, I think, lies in its tension. We have the familiar form of a chair, an object of rest and domesticity, yet the materials, with their seemingly organic patterns, remind us of raw nature, perhaps even animal hides. Doesn't the faux wood-grain bring a layer of artificiality to the supposed organic form? This duality makes me question our assumed relationship to comfort, both physical and psychological. How do you think Artschwager challenges our understanding of everyday objects and spaces? Editor: I see what you mean. The tension creates a disconnect. By taking a recognizable object like a chair and imbuing it with disorienting textures and forms, Artschwager is definitely provoking thought about what we consider familiar and comforting. It is almost uncanny. So, he is manipulating familiar symbology, in other words. Curator: Precisely! Consider the chair’s presence in history and culture - it’s not simply a seat, but often a throne, a position of power, a place of honour. Here, all of that pomp is deflated, transformed into something approachable, and even absurd. That play between the familiar and the alien speaks volumes about how we project meaning onto our surroundings. In deconstructing that projection, what do you learn about yourself? Editor: I suppose I am much more reliant on consistent surroundings than I believed, which provides stability, but could also close me off from novel stimuli. It's made me think about the meaning we unconsciously attribute to familiar objects, which dictates how we perceive the world around us. Curator: It also points to a deep questioning within contemporary art regarding authenticity, reproduction, and our connection to both nature and artifice. The work asks, what makes something real? And where do we find comfort, truly?