CM-U: Are there other comments or questions that you have?
MSE: I have a question about the actual chair that you said it was based on, because talking with Joachim, I was led to understand that it was a very particular chair. Was that true, or was I mis--? (overlapping dialogue; inaudible)
Doris Salcedo: It was not a—it was an old, kind of old and abandoned chair. Because as I say, I could not have access to any of...this piece was based on the—on a violent event that took place in Bogotá on November 6th and 7th, 1985, and the palace of justice where the Supreme Court work was taken over by a guerrilla called M-19. And the army retaliated, and so the justices were caught between the guerrillas and the army. And they were all killed. So if you can imagine what it means for a country to have the judges of the Supreme Court murdered, it's a huge loss, and on a symbolic level it's truly unthinkable and unbearable. And I don't think the country ever recovered from that. It's impossible. And it marked a turning point in Colombian history. We had had a civil war for 40 years after that; it became completely brutal. So it really was the turning point. So I think it's the most important historical event for Colombian history, and it was based on that. I made several attempts to grab whatever was—I entered the building and I filmed. And I was requesting to use objects, and nothing—they did not allow me to take anything. And for years I tried and I was never allowed. So absolutely everything was destroyed, because it was convenient for them to have this memory completely obliterated, completely effaced. So not—and at the end I was going for anything, anything they had in the building, anything—nothing. And I was writing letters to the Ministry of Culture, I was writing letters to the judges—I tried every way I could and I was not allowed. I was never allowed. So I had nothing. I had the date and that was it. Not even ashes. I had nothing. So that's why I used this chair, but it was not—it was just specifically in the sense that it was kind of old and simple and abandoned, but it didn't have a specific history—
CM-U: Significance, mm-hmm.
Doris Salcedo: —because the history was taken away, was totally erased. So I couldn't do it. So I had done with the same chair a previous piece, Tenebrae, and then with the same kind of chairs, I made a piece afterwards that was on the façade of the new building. I made that seventeen years after the actual event.
MSE: So the chair (overlapping dialogue; inaudible)—
CM-U: On the exact day, yeah.
Doris Salcedo: Yeah, but I was not allowed to have anything. So it didn't have such specific history, the object itself as such. And it was very difficult for me to start working out of nothing, being used to always, always, always starting a piece with a found object. It was the first time.
MSE: And these were created soon after your—or right at the time you were here at Harvard, or just so that there's a link as well?
Doris Salcedo: Yes, yes. Yes.
CM-U: Oh, I didn't—(overlapping dialogue; inaudible)
MSE: That's when I first met Doris, actually, when she came a resident artist in early 2000.
Doris Salcedo: Yeah, exactly the time it was happening, yeah. It was very helpful to be doing the research in this wonderful library. Yeah.
CM-U: Well, a complete erasure of everything that had to do with that event certainly is felt in your work. I mean, that absence—maybe that negation, when you talk about negation, maybe that's part of that, you know, absence.
Doris Salcedo: Yeah, I think the work has to stay in a—in terms of time, it occupies a time that is different, because it's like it refuses to forget and it refuses to move on. So it's—
CM-U: Mm-hmm. Stays.
Doris Salcedo: —not very clear what time the piece occupies. But it is—I think there is a need to stop and think. So in a way this—in a separate time, it's not the time we're living that is continually changing and overlapping, events, no. This stays there in a separate time—where I think most of the victims or the survivors will always remain. Somehow on this side of continuous linear time. They occupy different space and different time.
CM-U: Mary, do you have any other questions?
MSE: That one actually leads me to a point I would make—maybe a question, but also a point, which is I see time as a material in your work, and it's very much—you sculpt with materials, but time is very much, not only with this work or not only with the performance piece that was on the outside of the new Supreme Court building, but, you know, you've woven the thread and the hair into this tabletop of the (inaudible) in that series. And those are things that measure a before and an enduring, outside of linear time to me. Because each of these—both the focus on the work that's done by hand by you that is so fastidious and painstakingly done obviously measures time as well. So in all of your work, the way in which these materials work together, time is, to me, an actually palpable material that is integral. And I don't know if you have a—am I on target in that? Do you (overlapping dialogue; inaudible) --?
Doris Salcedo: Yeah, no, that's very important. In the talk tomorrow I will talk about it. And I—the other quote of Hamlet, saying that time is out of joint—and I think the time of violence is somehow—it's a dislocated time, it's a broken time. It's not the same time—if we come out of these tragic events that took place here last week, then you're not perceiving time the same way afterwards. It has changed. And the closer you are to the epicenter of the catastrophe, the slower time will move. For whoever was not affected, next Christmas will be Christmas, next Mother's Day will be a Mother's Day, but for the families affected, they will be missing their loved ones. They will not have the opportunity to move on. So it's a weird time. And they live with all these different tenses that are juxtaposed continuously. The sense of future is quite uncertain if you lose your son or your daughter, and you lose that, but nonetheless, you have—there will be a tomorrow that you have to go through, and you are pretty much stuck with your memories in the past. And so you press on this (inaudible), sort of compressing between that; it's totally insane. It's a different time, the time of violence.
CM-U: Yeah. In closing, I'm struck by—I think you said somewhere that if you had a word to describe your work it would be "impotence". And you have explained impotence and your inability, of course, to change history. History happened; there was nothing that you can do. And I've heard you say, or read what you've said, that you speak from a person—from a position of not having power, of being a person without power. And as someone who sees your work, meeting you for the first time but seeing your work, I think your work is very powerful, and I think you are very powerful in a way that's different, I know, from your definition of—you said the word "impotence," but I just wanted to say that that's the way it strikes me, and we are honored to look after your work.
Doris Salcedo: Thank you so much.
CM-U: Thank you.