Art project by Oleg Pospelov
There are two reliable ways of knowing the world - scientific and through art, rational and irrational. Each is good in its own way. The first way is more accurate, but requires enormous efforts, knowledge and means. The second one is accessible to everyone, even to a child. Drawing, the child learns the nature and properties of the depicted object - the sky should be blue, the sun is round, and the cat has four legs.
The great philosopher, mathematician and logician Gottfried Leibniz in the XVII century suggested that the world around us can be described in a mathematical way, and accordingly, to understand it. And in some respects he was right - already in the XX century man has managed to recreate the world quite convincingly, to simulate it with the help of computer technologies. However, these simulations are still as far from understanding the world as cave paintings of the first humanoids are from modern 3D animation. Philosophical thought in the 20th century came to the view that a mathematical model is incapable of describing the world, the world is unknowable. Reproducing reality, we create an illusion, but we still do not understand how this world works, we do not understand the nature of the universe around us - a picture created on a computer is no longer distinguishable from a photograph, but an algorithm that accurately describes the behaviour of photons does not answer the question: ‘What is light?’.
Gottfried Wilhelm von Leibniz
Philosopher, mathematician and logician
1646-1716
Philosopher, mathematician and logician
1646-1716
The binary (binary) system of calculus proposed by Leibniz is used in every modern computer today
How far are we from understanding the world? And what can we do to get closer to answering the questions ‘What is the universe?’, ‘What is I?’, ‘What is consciousness?’. Nothing, it seems. I am afraid that the generation now living will never know the answers to these questions. It is sad, but we still have the second method of research - irrational. And what if we combine both these methods - speculatively, at least at the level of symbols?
Some time ago my wife found at a flea market a 1945 edition of ‘Logaritmos vulgares’ (Simple Logarithms) with logarithmic tables of numbers from 1 to 20,000. This is an artefact from the past - these books are no longer used because hundreds of pages of similar editions fit into a calculator on a mobile phone. The analogue product no longer makes sense, it has been replaced by Leibniz's zeros and ones, paper tables have moved to another dimension - the digital one. A symbol of rationality that had lost its applied value, thrown on the rubbish heap, found by someone, then put on the flea market by a grey-bearded old man for one euro - was in my hands. The odyssey of 78 years was over.
Judging by the stamp on the title, the book was purchased at the Curbelo Bookshop in La Laguna. The book has had at least one owner - his quick, clean-cut handwriting is found in many places - calculations, notes, sometimes the names of tables that the typesetter forgot to place - a very nice detail. The beauty of the old manual layout, the smell of old paper mixed with the rhythmic texture of numbers and table frames - I suddenly wanted to capture it, to multiply it, to extract it - what good would it do if the book dusted on my bookshelf, who would see it?
This is how the idea for the series of linocuts printed on the pages of this handbook came about - a visual combination of predictable, calibrated, ordered mathematical data and an irrational figment of my mind - I can't call it anything else - it was improvisation, I cut without any sketch, my hand went where the cutter led it. I didn't plan anything, I didn't want to depict anything. Sometimes the drawing looks like fabric, sometimes like leaves, grass, muscle fibres, organics, water flow, wind. It is combined with the pages of a reference book to form a new drawing - accents appear, shadows, table frames limit the irrational texture of the engraving, cut it up, divide it, argue with it. The rational and the irrational are combined, and new meanings emerge.
Usually a linocut is an exact copy of what is carved on the board, but in this case each sheet is unique and unrepeatable, as unique as each page in a book. There are a total of 8 linocuts in the ‘Logaritmos vulgares’ series, each with a print run of no more than 10-15 copies. I don't know if I will print more of the series - theoretically it is possible, these guides were published in huge editions and it would not be difficult to find one of them. But the first part of this project is closed - there are no more sheets with tables left.
art by oleg pospelov
