Douglas Huebler
[Photographer and artist, b. 1924, Ann Arbor, Michigan, d. 1997, Truro, Massachusetts.]

 The map is only a chart, you know. It isn’t really a real thing, and yet we begin to assume it is a real thing, Most people experience maps or clocks or charts or so forth as very real life-defining phenomena, or whatever. 
 What I say is part of the artwork. 
 I’ve spoken seriously, and I am very serious, but you know an awful lot of the work is meant to twist things to the point of almost absurdity. I don’t want to celebrate absurdity, but I do mean to challenge a lot of premises. 
 I devise systems that allow me to subject things to a model of thought. In my work on duration, for instance, every event—even the most unexpected—occurs in conformity with the system I have previously set up. And the result can sometimes be quite beautiful, because it is arbitrary and because I have not chosen it to become a plastic object. 
 In the same sense that I don’t care about specific appearance I really don’t care about precise or exhaustive documentation. The documents prove nothing. They make the piece exist and I am interested in having that existence occur in as simple a way as possible. 
 I think everything is available as subject matter and I really mean everything. I concern myself with time, space, and things that are going on in the world, and everything. Not with a sense of trying to restate or interpret or express something, but to take something out of the world just long enough and use just enough of that to throw something out, bring something back, that I can call an image. 
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