This piece is called "Ready Made, Made." It's made out of wood and epoxy resin. It's a sort of homage to Marcel Duchamp. In 1913, he drilled a hole through a round stool and stuck the stem of the bicycle wheel up into it so the front fork holds the wheel upside down. This was the beginning of "Ready Made" before he called it that. He didn't really think of it as a sculpture, he just did it because it gave him amusement. Then, in 1915, he went to the US, around the time he did the Urinal at the Armory show, and still, he didn't take it so seriously. He came up with the name "Ready Made" to describe it. The bicycle wheel is the first "Ready Made," and it still resonates through conceptual art to this day. He came up with the idea that by taking something from life, like a bicycle and stool, and putting it into a new context of an art gallery or museum, it suddenly becomes art. The notion that there's no boundary between art and life has interested conceptual artists right through to our times. Exploring this boundary has become quite commonplace.
The idea for my piece, "Ready Made, Made," has been in my mind for a long time. Its origins go back to my early years, when I first learned about Duchamp and his new approach to making art. There's a kind of Talmudic philosophy of discourse involving switching sides, taking your opponents philosophical worldview and arguing for it instead of against it. I guess that's what I'm doing with my wheel. In other words, I'm doing just the opposite of Duchamp, in that nothing about my piece is "Ready Made." Instead, it is elaborately hand-crafted, and represents the opposite sentiment about the boundary between art and life. I'm not exactly sure what it means. I've been thinking about it for a long time, but I never quite figured out whether I'm a genius or an absolute moron to do it. In the same way Duchamp simply felt compelled to fasten a wheel to a stool for sheer amusement, I felt the same way--I just wanted to do it. Of course, I did it because of the art historical opportunity, but also because I love working with this material; I love the proportion of the wheel and it's weight. I love the challenge of making it rotate in a simple, satisfying way; the way a bearing on a bicycle wheel just rolls without any resistance. I love the design of the front fork and the way I made a wheel out of solid wood. There is a certain wonder that comes from making something so ordinary from scratch by yourself. It's almost as if it is the first wheel ever invented.