The Tilt of Time
Curatorial essay for catalogue publication by Kunstverein Publishing Milano
November 30, 2023
Emma Miles, Catarina Mel, Georgie Anastasi, Ali Skilnick
Every day, our planet rotates on a literal tilt, affecting time without us even being aware of it. In fact, its rotation is accelerating, resulting in our days being ever-so-slightly shorter. While time technically condenses, human interconnectedness expands at an increasing rate, with numerous consequences: the possibilities of artificial intelligence, the rise of progressive attitudes versus the resurgence of past political ideals, the seemingly infinite abyss that is the internet, and the fast paced environment of our day to day lives. These occurrences fuel an innate sense of curiosity that drives us to delve deeper into a mystery that connects us all: time. The past is ‘no longer,’ the future is ‘not yet,’ and the present is a vanishing ‘now.’ The fourth century BCE philosopher, Aristotle, was among the first to frame this common paradigm, which accurately reflects the challenges of our investigation into the transformation, crisis and perception of time.
The collective curating this exhibition is composed of ten women from nine different countries: Canada, Germany, India, Israel, Jamaica, Portugal, Russia, Ukraine and the United States of America. Our individual ideas about time were based largely on what we’ve learned in our respective upbringings, our backgrounds and cultures. It became clear to us that there was no singular notion of time that we all identified with, instead, time exists as a construct deeply influenced by our personal experiences, philosophical and religious influences, scientific theories and cultural vantage points.
The attempt to understand time’s true nature can be reflected in the word’s etymology. The word ‘time’ originates from a Proto-Indo-European root—di or dai—meaning ‘to divide.’ For centuries, our compulsion to measure time has led us to divide the years into seasons and the days into hours, minutes and seconds. The roots of the word time eventually evolved to Old English tiÌ„ma, also related to tide. Like the tide, time does not flow uniformly, the experience of time changes, it is a rhythm, a heartbeat, a movement. It can sometimes seem like there’s a storm going on, or it can be so quiet we don’t even see a ripple.
As mentioned earlier, Earth rotates on an axial tilt, which is 23.5 degrees, determining the changing of the seasons, the speed at which the earth rotates, and the amount of sunlight that touches the earth at any given time and location. In discussing time’s nature, we visualised a tilt being imposed upon each of our original understandings of the concept. We intend to ‘tilt’ these previously unquestioned notions, reconsidering how one typically thinks about time. The Tilt of Time captures our exploration of this vast concept, drawing a parallel between the Earth's physical relation to time and the varying individual and collective perceptions of time.
From time immemorial, theorists and physicists have grappled with this vanishing concept. Over twenty centuries ago, Aristotle concluded that time is the measurement of change; it is essentially our way of situating ourselves in relation to our surroundings. If nothing changes, there can be no time. Two thousand years later, physicist Sir Isaac Newton combats this notion, and maintains the existence of another time, a ‘true’ time, that passes independently of change, where if all things remained motionless, time would continue. Albert Einstein’s theory of relativity suggests that time cannot be an independent entity, it does not pass separately from everything else.
In Carlo Rovelli’s book The Order of Time, he reveals that time passes faster in the mountains compared to at sea level. He uses the example that a clock on top of a mountain will move a tiny bit faster than a clock at the base of that mountain, thus illustrating the nonuniformity and collectivity of time. The rate at which one experiences time passing depends on one’s frame of reference — both objectively, in the sense that time moves differently depending on your gravitational position, and personally, in individual and cultural perception.
Nevertheless, today’s conception of time continues to be greatly influenced by the movement of the clock. Since its invention and public implementation in fourteenth century Europe, mechanical clocks have governed how we think about and organise our everyday lives. What does 4:00 p.m. signify on the hands of the clock in Copenhagen versus Florence; does our perception of time change when the sun goes down? We may have a totally different idea of what a day means, in terms of length, activity, or routine. With time being an especially localised phenomenon, how does our perception of time change when we view it as a dimension we inhabit, rather than a standard that guides our lives?
We examined how differing perceptions of time among us can simultaneously coexist, especially in the ways we visualise time. A number of us imagine time linearly, with one end being the past, the other end being the future, and one specific point being the present. This perspective may be attributed to a Western capitalist ideal which idealises linear projection and growth. Contrarily, a cyclical perception of time more present in non-Western notions was also examined, where time instead can be envisioned in a circle. Hinduism, for instance, refers to the concept of ‘Kaal’, a term with a dual meaning of time and death. The closing of one door implies the opening of another, and the concept of eternal and cyclical time lies at the heart of the Hindu worldview. We also observed how the way time is embedded in our grammar can play a role in its perception. For example, in Russian, a person’s age is denoted through the word ‘let’, coming from ‘leto’ which means ‘summer.’ ‘I am 20 years old’ translates to ‘I lived 20 summers.’ Russian speakers may therefore place a greater emphasis on the seasons in their perception of time, or may value certain seasons over others.
Further, the perception of time is a complex interplay between psychological and physical factors. For instance, as we age, the subjective experience of time often seems to accelerate. As we accumulate more experiences and memories over the years, each new moment becomes a smaller fraction of our overall life, leading to a sense of time compression. Our brains also tend to optimise routine and familiar experiences, making them less salient and shorter in retrospect. Additionally, the slowing down of our cognitive processes as we age may cause us to pay less attention to passing moments, making them feel less distinct. Motivation and type of activity also contribute to varied perceptions of time. A task may appear to be longer the more it is interrupted, and a period of doing ‘nothing’ appears longer than a period of doing ‘something.’ The more one is motivated, or concentrated, the shorter their given task appears to be.
Outside of these cultural and physiological contexts, we have personally witnessed ruptures in our understanding of time through the presence of geopolitical crises and war. With a member of our collective being from Ukraine, Solomiia shares how her understanding and perception of time has completely changed since the full-scale Russian invasion of Ukraine. She realised the philosophical concept of being in the ‘here and now,’ “when your life is in danger and your sphere of influence is reduced to deciding whether or not to take shelter, it is very difficult to think about the future. Time exists in the present. The future is a fiction that may never come. You don't have much hope for the future.” The concept of making plans is abandoned, because focus can only be placed on the present moment. The illusion of maintaining any control over time breaks; it becomes apparent that in conditions of high risk, we cannot control time - time, on the contrary, controls us.
With these varying perceptions, can we give form to the complex nature of time? How do forms change over time? Do they change in meaning? Does our time have a form? Through the dialogue and practice of the artists, The Tilt of Time investigates several facets of time’s vastness, imparting a ‘tilt’ on the viewer through their experience of the show, whether that’s through a literal shift of their gaze, their exposure to different realities, their movement through the works, or their immersion into performance.
The exhibition begins with a physical tilt through Chiara Bettazzi’s site-specific installation, titled Shift. Conceived especially for the exhibition, Shift features a selection of objects ranging from glass bottles, broken dishware, plants, carbonised wooden pedestals and chairs, feathers, and multi-textured fabrics. Made from organic and industrial materials, the objects take centre stage. Their arrangement into eclectic assemblages creates an immersive environment referencing sculpture, art history, and life in general. The installation’s position at the entrance of IED, creates a rupture in the corridor, interrupting the linearity and flow of the passageway. Visitors immediately find themselves in the middle of a space where they become part of time as organic shapes decay, evolve and move around them. Bettazzi’s practice delves into the transformation of material over time and history. The use of historical objects – they had different lives and functions before she found them – in her installation is essential. In Shift, we witness a relinquishing of control to the passage of time, objects are left to exist in the exhibition space; they remain free to break, or fall due to gravity's pull. Afterwards, the objects return to Chiara’s studio and are preserved to be continuously reused.
The work of Alessandro Gandolfi investigates our present time through four carefully-selected stories that are highlighted on both sides of the hallway: The Baltic Question (2022), Climatic Change in Italy (2013 - 2019), Where Taiwan Touches China (2022), and Syrians in Limbo (2019). Gandolfi understands photography as “an archive of contemporary visual testimonies that can serve to investigate social, cultural, or geographical issues.” What makes Gandolfi’s work special is that each photograph is always accompanied by an extended caption. These two parts, the photo and the caption, together tell the whole story. After each moment is captured by Gandolfi, its conditions cease to exist, yet a visual trace of the people and places he encounters continues to live on. Through Gandolfi’s lens, we gain insight into the people and landscapes in their moments of crisis around the world.
Further along the exhibition path is the work of Fabrizio Ajello and Francesco D’Isa, Upside Down Wells. Their work is not presented at eye level, but requires a literal shift in the gaze to the skylights and the ceilings of the hallway. Upside Down Wells delves into the realm of the dreamscape as well as imagery generated by artificial intelligence. Within our curatorial collective, we each recalled dreams from memory and recorded them. These were translated into prompts for an AI program to create images, which were then projected onto the ceilings and sketched by D’Isa and Ajello. The use of the sky light’s frustum-shaped architecture can be compared to peering into what our minds create. The sketches of mythical and sea creatures, cityscapes, religious and secular figures, and illusionary elements overlap, revealing the appearance of a nightmare, or, with a change in position, the fantastical elements of a fairy tale. Within Upside Down Wells, there’s an important aspect of transformation that takes place through the transitions of mediums, as well as the influence of artistic styles throughout history, such as references to Renaissance and Post-Impressionist art, as well as Anime. The multilayered evolution of imagery elicits contemplation about the passage of time. The intervention of A.I. technology further invites a reflection on its impact on our imagination of the future.
Towards the end of the corridor is Namsal Siedlecki's Soffio, a glass-blown head. The glass sculpture is displayed alongside the tool used in its creation, a blowpipe. A bronze head sourced from a thrift store was used as a mould by the intervention of a glass blower, and this bronze sculpture is given a new beginning as its use is redefined. This transformation of use and material showcases the imprints of the sculpture’s history and its newborn fragility. Through the slant of Soffio’s physical structure, and its positioning on an angled corridor at the end of the hallway, Soffio gives another impression of a physical tilt.
The Strozzina serves as a stage for performances beckoning visitors to re-evaluate their personal rapport with time. Giulio Aldinucci's sleeping concert takes place in the evening, into the hours of the morning, in the Strozzina. Participants are invited to sleep as Aldinucci creates a soundscape within the environment using equipment such as his granular synthesiser, a tool that modifies the speed of a sound sample. His use of field recordings, sound samples from the Mediaeval period, and musical influences of the Baroque period create a bridge between history and the present moment. For Aldinucci, time is not a simple progression along a horizontal axis; instead, it becomes a complex web of connections that intertwine, overlap, and evolve vertically. The immersive experience of the sleeping concert creates a vulnerable state for participants as they are surrounded by strangers, transcending between sleeping and waking. The sleeping concert represents the signs of our time: a focus on physical presence in the present, with reflections from the past.
Meanwhile, Jacopo Jenna uses the movement of the body as a medium to open our perception to time in the present. Jenna develops a durational performance in the Strozzina. Here and Now makes use of four written scores; one for the audience, one for the dancers, one for the lighting and one for the sound composer. The absence of a stage in the space breaks the boundary between the performers and the audience; together they all interact and participate. Their association within this particular moment in the Strozzina aims to create a unique experience in time. Jenna views dance as “an ephemeral experience that manifests itself and exists only in the present moment.” Playing on the notion of the here and now, the spectator is put in an active position of navigating and tuning into their surroundings.
The exhibition is accompanied by a publication that continues to expand on the vast nature of time, including interviews with the artists as they elaborate on their practice and research, a bibliography that acts as a representation of the temporal library, and a lexicon created in collaboration between the artists and the curatorial collective.
The vast concept of time is influenced by perception, experience, philosophy, religion, science, culture, and art in every epoch. Like the societies, civilizations, and scholars that came before us, time is a mystery we continue to question and attempt to comprehend. The Tilt of Time explores the transformation of material over time and history, the generation of images by artificial intelligence, the movement of the body in its surroundings, the crafting of a soundscape, and stories of crises along geopolitical fractures. Intending to ‘tilt’ preconceived understandings of time, The Tilt of Time leaves behind an imprint of this endeavour. It is not only the nature of time, but also the challenge to understand it, that connects us all.