"Esther Stocker, born 1974 in Silandro, Italy, graduated in 1999
from the Academy of Fine Arts, Vienna. Stocker's work oscillates between
the exactitudes of formal minimalism and the ambiguities of
abstraction. She builds deviations, optical breaks and hurdles, which
simultaneously open-up and withhold the complex systems inherent in her
thoroughly architectural forms."
source1
Interview from Don't Panic, 'The Art of Esther Stocker':
How extensive is your lack of knowledge about space?
It is really hard to describe, but I never really know where one
thing is at... like myself for instance. How to describe where one is?
You could describe the things around you, if they could define your
position. But then I have to define their position.
Imagine I am on a chair. The chair is two meters from a wall. The wall is on the second floor of a house in Vienna and so on. But what relates to what? Even the solar system is dependent on being described by some unclear idea of a universe being described by a confused human observer. That’s why it seems so unclear to me. Why should I trust a chair to tell me where I am? It seems highly absurd when you start to think about it.
It is the close relationship to the observer that makes the concept of space so unclear to me. I cannot describe any position. So I want to admit that there is more than one thing that I don’t know about space. I don’t know my position and that is why I don’t clearly know the position of other things too.
Your work seems to say something profound about space, despite and perhaps because of your ignorance of its nature.
It is ironic, as the 'fact' of space somehow enters the work
unasked. All I ever wanted to know is how a relation functions. What
one thing is doing next to another, why we can differentiate things or
why we want to differentiate things. Even if we cannot describe the
point where one thing becomes another, we seem to somehow know that it
happens. That fascinates me.
Is there a certain intuitive understanding in these fuzzy, imprecise areas of your/our knowledge?
Decisions, even the most minimal formal decisions, have a
consequence in space. Somehow they describe an exact position
somewhere. The somewhere is space. I am completely convinced that
fuzziness is logical. It is something unstable to hold on too. It’s
paradoxical that we can rely on something so imprecise.
Is the heavy use of black in both your installation and your paintings a reference to this unknown?
It is the highest differentiation that I can build up in a relation
- something you can easily distinguish on a formal level; something
that at first sight seems like a clear thing to distinguish, where you
immediately know what one thing is compared to the other. The fuzziness
is still there, just lying within how the things are positioned or what
they do. If they slightly disappoint your expectations, you might loose
your orientation. It is about doubting our sense of control.
Can you tell us what the physical ingredients of this instillation are? Gaffer tape? Any sticky-back plastic?
Ordinary gaffer tape from the hardware store next door and some black cardboard for the reinforced parts.
This is the Science issue of our magazine, which works well
because there seems to be a lot of references to scientific imagery
(graphs/grids/static) in this work. How can art draw inspiration from
science?
The first science text I have ever been excited about was Perception of Texture
by Bela Julesz. He beautifully describes the limitations of our
perceptive apparatus - how cognitive processes support low level
perception and how the recognition of the continuity of complex
patterns is limited by the gradual overload of the perceptive apparatus.
I owe a lot to science. I really enjoy following the research of human perception and cognition, and I am fascinated by the aesthetic elegance of some scientific research, as well as the importance that images play for some science, as evidence for a theory.
And after reading
some scientific theory I usually end up with something precious - with
a better knowledge of the limitations of our human understanding."
source2
"There are many things to say about the notion of a 'simple grid'. In
the case of painting it concerns the equal distribution of parts, and
in this respect is an expansive structure. The grid allows a
non-hierarchical image-organization and plays an important role not just
in architecture, city-planning, construction etc., but also as a tool
for the distinction in a simple figure/ground scheme which leads to the
discussion of relational questions: How minimal can the difference of
brightness be to still reassemble some parts? Where is the point which
connects the structure of the grid and where does it fall apart? The
fascinating fact for me is the continuous redefinition of things through
the perception process, always linked to a larger field of meaning. A
certain feature or a paradox that appears in painting is the
contradicting fact that grids and other arrangements of exact
geometrical forms can lead to 'vague' visual experiences. This can be
caused through minimal changes within a regular structure. The
reduction of visual constructs and their constituent elements helps to
demonstrate specific interactions or relations inherent within those
constructs."
source3
'What I don't know about space', Museum 52, London, 2008.
'What I don't know about space', Museum 52, London, 2008.
'What I don't know about space', Museum 52, London, 2008.
'Abstract thought is a warm puppy', CCNOA, Brussels, 2008.
'Geometrisch Betrachtet', Museum Moderner Kunst Stiftung Ludwig, Wien, 2008.
'O.T.', Galerie im Taxispalais, Innsbruck, 2006.
'O.T.', Galerie im Taxispalais, Innsbruck, 2006.


























