1. From within the landscape view everything seems to flow into individuality, each organism, each moment, created from the first time and flourishing. Instead, start only with the overwhelmingly readymade character of what we experience. How much of experience is assembled from common nouns, and moves according to common verbs. Things, not patterns, repeat, diverging only at length. The earth itself as hiding objects, and each object itself in a hidden form. The seed bank, the promise of reiteration.

When we show children the world through our representations, we do not only outfit them with a random and pleasant selection of limitless reality; we teach them the important characters and characteristics, to which they may as well limit themselves throughout their lives.

2. Consider the storehouses of what has already been made. The stocks of objects lying in rest, oddly close to use but never being used. How uneasy we are to open a bottle in the store and drink it - within the storehouse, all things should be stopped.

A tree nursery, that seems at rest when you wander through. Only a little work, taking place in a corner as a little earthmover wheels around, and then trees quietly – what, resting, working as well? If one is wanted, it is wanted by virtue of being an undamaged copy – it is a predictable elm, or cherry, or or birch.

3. The quality of a landscape as always being readymade, or made of readymades. Things with a predictable use and lifespan. The entitlement of being able to know what they will do. But an odd twist – that many such products start nearly purposeless and get worse than purposeless from there; which is to say they start without any utility in of themselves, and are changed to become not even self-sufficient. A tulip is only worthwhile for the features it exhibits for a few weeks, and otherwise is of no value.

4. If you made a landscape with this in mind, how would you make it? With no great regard for one element or another, but instead with an eye to the display, to the aggregation. That you have no patience for the becoming of any one thing – but must instead array all things for best perusal. That such things would be organized and placed for easy inventory. That then you could readily read when they were depleted.

Salk Institute Party
Party at the Salk Institute, by Heinrich Klotz.

(September 2016)