Louise Nevelson

(September 23, 1899 – April 17, 1988) 

An American sculptor born in Czarist Russia

" There was some experimenting with painting them,

and also different woods put together, 

the tonalities, 

but not very much because 

I didn't want to make sculpture and 

I didn't want to make form as such and

I got through that very fast 

I wanted really to get beyond that.

I never thought I made sculpture or made anything. 

I'm not looking to make anything. 

I want something else entirely. 

I want that extra dimension where you don't make things; 

you live with that place and 

you give that place a form and 

in that place where you give form you bring back here and 

hope to communicate on that level. 

Some people do get it. 

Even if it's a little late, 

they get it. 

I don't know if I've said it well, 

but I'll say it again: 

I don't want to make sculpture and

I don't want to make paintings; 

I'm not looking to make anything. 

I myself need, 

for my place of consciousness, a form.

It's almost like you are an architect that's building through shadow and light and dark. 

You are really an architect in that place, 

but you don't want to make buildings for people; 

you are -- in another dimension 

you are the architect, you see. 

But it's a very real world. 

I never use a word like "imagination" because

that word "imagination" means to me that 

you extend immediately to that great dimension.

So it's not imagination. 

It's a great reality 

but the material you are using is in that place instead of in this place, 

you see. 

So it isn't through the intellect, 

it's through vision that you give form and structure to that place. 

And so, naturally, you are an architect in that place. "

" Memory "

"Like mood boards you'd pin your favorite images to,"he said.

Chris Burden

Born in Boston in 1946, grew up in Cambridge, Massachusetts, France and Italy.
An American artist working in performance, sculpture, and installation art.

SHOOT  (November 19, 1971)

"At 7:45 p.m. I was shot in the left arm by a friend.
The bullet was a copper jacket .22 long rifle.
My friend was standing about fifteen feet from me."

 Trans-fixed (April 23, 1974) 

"Inside a small garage on Speedway Avenue,

I stood on the rear bumper of a Volkswagen.

I lay on my back over the rear section of the car,

stretching my arms onto the roof. Nails are driven through my palms onto the roof of the car. 

The garage door was opened and the car was pushed half way out into the speedway. 

Screaming for me the engine was run at full speed for two minutes. 

After two minutes, 

the engine was turned off and the car pushed back into the garage. 

The door was closed."