THANX 4 NOTHING: Ugo Rondinone - Review

A pitch-black corridor leads to a square-box room, projected screens on four walls and 12 old small TV screens on the floor, 4 against each wall. A theatre stage, lit with a single spotlight waits on the monitor. Bare feet emerge from darkness down centre stage and John Giorno lifts a microphone and begins his speech.

Each projection shows the identical image of Giorno delivering his poem in black tie, whilst TV screens show him in a pristine white suit just the same.

“Thanks for nothing on my 70th birthday”, John Giorno proclaims, standing in the Palais de Glaces Theatre, Paris. This video artwork by Swiss artist, Ugo Rondinone, is a portrait of contemporary form.

Ugo Rondinone is known for his simplistic, yet thought-provoking pieces that never connect. Each work is individual, some burst with colours of the rainbow, others the bland coloured material of his choosing. Rondinone’s primary work form is typically sculptural and his work of Giorno can be considered a new version entirely.

“Thanx 4 Nothing” was first shown as part of “I (heart) John Giorno”, a love letter in the form of an exhibition, featuring pieces revolving around Giorno’s life.

Ugo and John have been lovers for 19 years; a pairing of the greatest in love and art. This is not the first time John Giorno has been a muse; he was the subject of Andy Warhol’s film Sleep in 1963.

People sit and lay on the floor glued to the screens, enveloped in words that spew from Giorno’s mouth. “Thanks for taking everything for yourself and giving nothing back. You were always only self-serving.”

Giorno’s poem is a letter to life, showering through themes of sex, love, death and people that shaped him. “I give enormous thanks to all my lovers, beautiful men with brilliant minds, great artists, Bob, Jasper, Ugo, may they come here now and make love to you…”

The black and white 24-minute film holds a mixture of humour, blunt-honesty, and intrigue. Giorno recites his poem twice, each time giving a new understanding as you listen intently.

Giorno’s suit switches from black to white in the repeat, a symbol of duality and reversal of roles, a change in character. His bare feet, suit and when he smokes at the last moments of the piece represents the contrast between the entertainer and holy man.

Buddhism is present in both Giorno’s presence and his poem; Buddhists want to reach to Nirvana, a state of nothingness, and the poem can be seen as a reflection of Giorno relieving himself of attachments.

Rondinone’s depiction of Giorno in this way acts as a portrait in new dimensions. Each screen can be a new perspective into Giorno’s thoughts as he recites his poem. Though in black and white, it’s full of colour through the words Giorno expresses himself through.

Rondinone creatively takes words from Giorno’s poem and alters the Palais de Glaces to a TV studio, a comment on the changing nature of classic art, or changes the camera angle on the larger screens to remove the viewer from the dreamlike state to reality. The close-ups of Giorno’s face, plastered with a somewhat smug expression, take you into the depth of his feelings.

In a single moment, Rondinone captures his lover revealing his innermost thoughts. It truly is a love letter to Giorno; an admiration of his work and persona, a piece of life and death, captured with very little colour but still giving a kaleidoscopic effect.