Cildo Miralles and my Doc Martens

I went into my closet and found my red Doc Martens today. The pair still carried remnants of the dust I collected in a Cildo Mireles installation at Tate Modern, London.  I am never the sentimental type but have to admit that over the years, objects that moved along in time with me certainly reminded me of things that I have done, and events that I have attended.

The Cildo Mireles installation was one of the more interesting shows that I've attended in my years of experiencing art in space, and in real time. The picture above demonstrates a part of the room, or the installation that one would experience if one decides to go in. This installation, though simple to replicate, is not for the faint of heart.

I was drawn to the exhibition first by the quality of the other installations by Mireles. This one, hailed as the finale of all installations, was surrounded by staff ushering people into the room. The room itself allowed only 10 or less individuals in at one time; there was no time limit as to whether or not you are allowed to experience the piece; nor were visitors allowed to know how long, and how big the installation was. The only information given to anyone interested in entering was the following:

a. you have to ensure that you are not claustrophobic;
b. you must not have any respiratory disorders or heart disease;
c. you are required to take off your shoes and your socks and you must oblige, otherwise you will not be allowed in the installation.

And one would think, with all the instructions, that would deter visitors from going into the space. On the contrary, this became one of the most anticipated pieces in the show.

I lined up for it, and sure enough, the experience itself was well worth it. You were ushered into a room where you were asked to take off your shoes. You are then asked to bring yourself into a room by opening a door. The second you open your room, you are immediately taken aback as the room is not lit up. But you tread on because you are supposed to do so. And then you take your first step into the space...

no ground. where did the ground go? You sink your legs deeper into the...powder? And then I hit a hard surface. I was able to balance myself through the room...I walked slowly and was further greeted with a fume or powdery substance. Pitch darkeness. More powdery substance to plow through....and then I heard neighbouring sounds of strangers..communicating with each other.

"Where are we supposed to go?" What are we supposed to do?"

We all walked slowly, until we saw the light as we made an abrupt left turn. We found our way to the light only to find out that this was a candle. And nothing else. Disappointment. But then, someone else disclosed to me very important information:

The door was adjacent, but not directly lit by the light. We headed out...slowly taking in the experience of this installation.


And then I looked at my red Doc Martens again. Today would be the second time I wore them. I wonder if i would be asked to take them off again...a significant pain in the ass the first time when I wore them the first time. Never thought I would've been asked to take them off when I visited the art gallery...but would I be asked to take them off today again at the gourmet wine and food show? Hmm....I think I can take my chances. I'll wear my Doc Martens and see what kind of additional memory I will add on to the dust from my trip to Mireles' Room No. 4.