During a short workperiod in Pictura, Dordrecht, I traced movements and actions performed by my fellow artists, employees, visitors and objects in the artspace. Going around with a stack of yellow tabs, I noted down whatever I encountered, included date and time, and stuck the tab on the wall, floor, chair, whichever was nearest. During the three days, the whole space and adjacent bar and office were specked with little yellow tabs, forming a growing visual report of what had taken place.
Even though I was documenting as thoroughly and objectively as I could, attempting to do nothing but document, ofcourse all I really was able to register was whatever took place near me, and out of that, whatever I chose to register.
Ultimately the viewer was confronted with, concealed behind a facade of objectivity, a random selection of facts tracing nothing but my own subjective personal history.
