The Vestige of Time: With Wylie and Deleuze in Carrara
JaE EMErling
1. gilles Deleuze, Francis
Bacon: The Logic of Sensation,
translated by David W. smith
(Minneapolis: university of
Minnesota Press, 2003), 54.
2. Jean-luc nancy, The
Muses, translated by
Peggy kamuf (stanford:
stanford university
Press, 1996), 94–98.
3. William Wylie, Carrara
(Chicago: the Center
for american Places and
university of Chicago Press,
2009). Wylie’s work has
been reviewed by Johanna
Drucker in “Making
space: image Events in an
Extreme state” (Cultural
Politics, 2008) and kenneth
Baker in ARTnews (March
2009). in addition, Eric
scigliano’s preface to Carrara
entitled “Pietra Viva” and
russell lord’s “History
in stone: William Wylie
and the Persistence of the
Photograph” (published
by second street gallery
in Charlottesville, Va,
for an october 2006
exhibition) supplemented
my reading here.
4. the concept of a “bloc of
sensation” is discussed
by Deleuze and félix
guattari in What Is
Philosophy?, translated
by Hugh tomlinson and
graham Burchell (new
york: Columbia university
Press, 1994). of course,
i am playing with this
phrase in relation to the
blocks of marble that
Wylie photographed.
5. these photographs have
elicited comments on Wylie’s
project as contingent on a
post-Minimalist aesthetic. as
kenneth Baker writes: “it is
only now, a generation after
Post-Minimalism, that he
could so plainly take up an
uncarved block of stone as
a photographic subject and
find admirers ready to see
it as a sculpture in itself.”
6. Jacques rancière, The Future
of the Image, translated by
gregory Elliott (london:
Verso, 2007), 111.
18 x-tra
To render Time sensible is itself the task.
–Gilles Deleuze1
What remains withdrawn from the image, or what
remains in its withdrawal, as that withdrawal itself,
is the vestige… We must therefore renounce naming
and assigning being to the vestige. The vestigial is not
an essence—and no doubt this is what puts us on
track of the “essence of art.” That art is today its own
vestige, this is what opens us to it…it presents what is
not “Idea”: motion, coming, passage, the going-on of
coming-to-presence.
–Jean-Luc nancy, “The Vestige of Art”2
At the beginning of 2009, the contemporary photographer
and filmmaker William Wylie published an exquisite
book entitled Carrara. The book is the culmination
of his multiyear artistic project at the famous Italian
marble quarry, a project which included the awarding
of a John Simon Guggenheim Foundation Memorial
Fellowship in Photography in 2005, the production of
four films (Dust, Cavatori, Friction, and The Block) in
2008, and exhibitions in new York City, San Francisco,
and Richmond.3 on first glance Wylie appears to be
documenting a site whose name resounds in the
history of art as the source of marble for Michelangelo
or a refuge for John Singer Sargent, but in fact his
Carrara project resists a documentary reading. Rather
than documenting a cultural site and its laborers,
Wylie’s aesthetic labor presents a series of singularities
(elemental marble blocks, portraits of quarry workers at
rest) that transmits not merely cultural, or even natural,
history, but temporality as such. Each singularity, each
time-image composed of intense focus and caesura,
presents a “bloc of sensation” that renders visible the
contested and open terrain of the history of photography.4
Wylie’s Carrara is divided into three sections. The
first is comprised of ten photographs of elemental,
rough-hewn marble blocks. It was these singular faces
that compelled him to return time and again to the
Cava di Gioia in Carrara. The second section presents
portraits of cavatori (stonecutters and quarry workers)
pausing from their labors, consciously posing, often in
contrapposto, as they directly engage Wylie’s 8 x 10-inch,
large format camera and, by extension, the viewer.
The third section is a series of horizontally-oriented
portraits of blocks, showing the tools and marks of
the cavatori (for example, ladders and circular patterns
from the diamond saw blades), which are presented
as the end result of their work.5 This triadic structure
is less the law of an archival project than a contingent
conceptual framework that separates and yet binds
together a distinct “distribution of the sensible,” that
is, a conception of the image not as resemblance or
document but as a “relationship between presence and
absence, the material and the intelligible, exhibition
and signification.”6
I will take a single example from Wylie’s
project, one that closes the first third of the book,
as symptomatic of how he creates an image. In
06-26, Carrara (2008), a rectangular block of dark
blue-gray marble hovers above the ground. The floor
of the quarry extends under the marble block to an
obscured middle ground; the vertical walls leading
up to the next level of the quarry on the left and right
present themselves as potential blocks that Wylie may
photograph in the future, images to come. But this
block, this singularity, bears a baroque composition of
natural and manmade marks, scars, lines, and drips,
nearly all of which are vertices drawing the eye to the
weightless illusion signaled by the bottom-edge as well
as to the upper-edge of the block. The upper-edge is
uneven and roughly hewn, at once contrasting with and
scumbling the rectilinear, precisely cut sections of the
quarry in the background, fitted as it is with rigs, saw
blades, and heavy machinery. The diminutive, almost
entirely silhouetted figure of a single cavatore—a
quarry worker—just right of center emphasizes the
upper-edge of the block, nearly indiscernible from
the quarry ledge the man stands behind. Wylie builds
his image from the edges toward the center, thereby
minimizing the depth of the entire plane. Because
the edges of the image are slightly out of focus, they
construct a series of planes (structures) that prop-up
and gesture towards what is in sharp focus: the face of
the block.
However, Wylie surveys not only the face of the
block, but also its context. Behind the block, two
parallel diagonals frame the striated, reticulated
surfaces of the hewn blocks in the middle. The diagonal
william wylie, 06-22, Riccardo Figaia, Carrara, 2008. pigment print,
24 x 20 inches. courtesy of the artist and jenkins johnson
gallery, san francisco.
volume 11 number 4 summer 2009 19
william wylie, 06-26, Carrara, 2008. pigment print, 29 x 37 inches. courtesy of the artist and jenkins johnson gallery, san francisco.
7. Deleuze, “He stuttered,”
Essays Critical and Clinical,
translated by Daniel W.
smith and Michael a. greco
(Minneapolis: university of
Minnesota Press, 1997), 114.
8. Wylie, “Creating a
geography,” Carrara, 71-2.
9. Deleuze, Cinema 2: The
Time-Image, translated
by Hugh tomlinson and
robert galeta (Minneapolis:
university of Minnesota
Press, 1986), 81.
10. With this phrase “the vestige
of art, life as such” i am
resituating an argument by
Jean-luc nancy in relation
to Deleuze’s philosophy.
see nancy’s “the Vestige of
art,” in his text The Muses.
11. John rajchman, The Deleuze
Connections (Cambridge, Ma:
the Mit Press, 2000), 9.
20 x-tra
on the right is formed by the path for heavy machinery
against the smooth quarry walls, while the one on
the left is formed by stone shards and fragments
sliding and gathering on a slope. on the left, a second
diagonal, perpendicular to the first, converges with the
right-side diagonal outside of the frame. Regardless of
which left-side diagonal is dominant, all the diagonals
project outward, leading to the face of the block in
sharp focus. Wylie orients these diagonals and aligns
the edges of figure and ground to inscribe the context
(the quarry and its proper name, Carrara) into the
face of the block even as he pushes this context to the
margins of the image (at times even out of the frame
altogether). The tension between the ostensible figure
of the image—the face of the block—and the larger
context of the quarry is a productive one throughout
Wylie’s Carrara images. Time and again, we are
confronted with contending forces: face and milieu,
specificity and context. The true power of these forces
originates not with spatial or differential relationships,
but with temporal ones. Art presents us with time-images
only when a situation (context) dissolves into an event
(an image); only then does art offer us, as Deleuze
explains, “the explosion of the world…not a memory,
but a block, an anonymous and infinite fragment, a
becoming that is always contemporary.”7 Time is not
exposed once and for all, but within the image, within
its peculiar, virtual geography.
Wylie challenges us to be attentive to each
individual image he creates—to the basic, sensible
elements of what he refers to as “creating a
geography.”8 However, the singularity of each
image—each block, each face—complicates this
description of his project. Artistic creation (poiesis) is
variation and involution, an expression of an artistic
will that gives shape to the world only to extract from
it incoherence, a certain madness that opens any
geography to temporality. non-chronological time is
the law of the time-image, which Deleuze explains as
“the powerful, non-organic Life which grips the world.”9
Temporality, in this sense, is far from subjective,
anthropocentric, or chronological; rather, it presents
itself as excessive and impoverished, preserving itself
within its own realization in human time. Wylie’s
attentiveness to this non-organic life is coupled with
his choice of Carrara, a site overdetermined within
the history of art. As a historiographic signifier, the
site itself—in the present—is inscribed within each
photograph as merely one aspect—one face—of a
temporality that exposes the vestige of art, life as
such.10 Art is an openness, that is, another temporality
that opens only within human time. In the context
of Wylie’s photographs, this aesthetic-temporality
is figurable only in-between the solid block and its
lightness and dust, in-between the opaqueness of the
marble and the intensity of its lightness (whiteness).
In Wylie’s project, allusions construct a “line of
flight” that extracts from the site its proper name,
“Carrara.” This proper name is nothing less than a
multiplicity of improbable encounters with Cézanne
at the Bibémus quarries, Freud’s asking why we are
“so powerfully affected” by art in his “The Moses of
Michelangelo,” Henry Moore, the Grand Tour, Marcus
Agrippa, John nash’s Marble Arch, and others. Each
photograph is a plane of composition comprised
of seemingly (non)sensical allusions becoming of
“Carrara.” As Deleuze often argues, sensations are
“lines of flight” that compose a multiplicity, a unique
combination. By creating an image, Wylie transmits a
proper name via the allusions embodied in the face of
each marble block: each image is a “bloc of sensation.”
Sensation, Deleuze insists, is irreducible to logic and
thought. An aesthetic-temporal experience of these
images is thus one that recollects aisthesis as both “the
great struggle to free sensation…from clichés or mere
‘probabilities’” and the task of coming to terms with the
affects of imagery, including its allusive nature.11
To recollect aisthesis in this manner is to affirm
the image as an image, that is, as non-knowledge.
Recollection neither retrieves these allusions (people,
ideas, etc.) in the present, nor merely connects them
via the chain of signifiers that begins with a name (here
Carrara); rather, it thinks the sensible and the legible as
distinct and yet co-extensive. In terms familiar within
the history of photography, recollection grasps the
studia as an event of non-knowledge (a punctum).12
Images demand that we resituate ourselves in relation
to the object of history. They insist that we reconsider
“within the framework of the history of art, the very
status of this object of knowledge with regard to which
we will henceforth be required to think what we gain
in the exercise of our discipline [art history, aesthetics,
visual studies, whatever] in the face of what we
thereby lose: in the face of a more obscure and no less
sovereign constraint to not-knowledge.”13 As Georges
Didi-Huberman asserts, confronting images requires
that we unravel “the nets of knowledge…to think the
element of not-knowledge that dazzles us whenever
we pose our gaze to an art image.”14 one element of
non-knowledge is an experience of temporality as
recollection, which bears within it the “power of the
future.” only a discipline capable of recognizing
and creating alongside the force of recollection that
art requires is capable of doing justice to this type of
experience and, thus, is worthy of the name.15
To rethink art history, or any discursive regime,
so that it would be adequate to this element of
non-knowledge inherent in artistic poiesis and aisthesis
is to abandon the “problem of historical time” we
have inherited from Kant via Panofsky so as to finally
conceive of an immanent, affirmative pathos—event—
of knowledge: “the history of art” in-between “on the
one side, the danger of contemporary logocentrism…
[and] on the other side, the danger of an empty
totalitarianism in which the past—the supposed past,
which is to say the ideal past—[acts] as absolute master
of the interpretation.”16 To work with Wylie’s project
is thus to discern the three elements of an image:
poiesis (the producing of art), aisthesis (the sensation
and affects of imagery), and a pathos of knowledge
(criticism or theoretical discourse), each on its own
and then as an ensemble that delimits the possibilities
for how representation functions in contemporary
discourse—an “aesthetic regime” that is coming
12. as geoffrey Batchen clarifies,
many have “missed the
complexity of Barthes’s overall
argument. for what matters
here is not the difference
between studium and punctum,
but the political economy of
their relationship (what matters
is precisely their post-structural
inseparability).” Moreover, it is
Barthes’s own words that open
to a Deleuzian reading of the
second part of Camera Lucida:
“i now know that there exists
another punctum…this new
punctum, which is no longer
of form but of intensity, is
time.” see Batchen, “Camera
Lucida: another little History
of Photography” in robin
kelsey and Blake stimson, eds.,
The Meaning of Photography
(Williamstown: sterling and
frances Clark institute; new
Haven: yale university Press,
2008), 85; roland Barthes,
Camera Lucida: Reflections
on Photography, translated by
richard Howard (new york:
Hill & Wang, 1981), 96.
13. georges Didi-Huberman,
Confronting Images: Questioning
the Ends of a Certain History
of Art, translated by John
goodman (university Park:
the Pennsylvania state
university Press, 2005), 7.
14. ibid.
15. as Elizabeth grosz astutely
states, we must come to grasp
what our discipline shares
with art, that is, the “ways they
divide and organize chaos to
create a plane of coherence,
a field of consistency, a plane
of composition on which to
think and to create… How,
in other words, do the arts
and philosophy (‘theory’)
create? ...What can philosophy
contribute to an understanding of art other than an
aesthetics, that is, a theory of
art, a reflection on art? instead
of supervening from above,
taking art as its object, how can
philosophy work with art or
perhaps as and alongside art, a
point of relay or connection with
art?” see grosz, Chaos, Territory,
Art: Deleuze and the Framing of
the Earth (new york: Columbia
university Press, 2008), 4-5.
16. Didi-Huberman, 39. see
especially his third chapter
“the History of art Within the
limits of its simple reason,”
which provides an extended
reading of Erwin Panofsky
that deals in part with his
1931 essay “Zum Problem
der historischen Zeit.”
william wylie, Dust, 2008. still from single-channel color video
with sound. duration: 2:21. courtesy of the artist.
volume 12 number 1 fall 2009 21
william wylie, 06-19, Carlo Morelli, Carrara, 2008. pigment print, 24 x 20 inches. courtesy of the
artist and jenkins johnson gallery, san francisco.
undone before our eyes.17
To discern the traits of this aesthetic regime
within Wylie’s project is to read it against the grain of
contemporary discourse; instead of reading an image
for some explicit or implicit meaning, we experience
and create with an image an event of knowledge
capable of conveying the untimeliness of Wylie’s
neo-Romantic, stylistic photography. For instance, we
would have to understand how and why Wylie’s project
distances itself from documentary projects of workers
by contemporary photographers like Sebastiao Salgado
and Alfredo Jaar.18 Wylie does not stake expository
22 x-tra
and/or interventionist claims as Salgado does in his
Workers: An Archaeology of the Industrial Age. Wylie
never photographs the cavatori at work; only the results
of their labor are photographed. nor is Wylie’s project
focused on the larger socio-economic context of the
quarry. Although his short films do show men working,
it is fundamentally different from the representations of
oppressive, punishing, unrelenting modern-medieval
labor in Salgado. For example, in Cavatori (2008), while
the men are certainly active—gesturing, shouting,
and exerting themselves—a calm choreography that
is directed by the workers is evident; nothing similar
is present in Salgado’s work. Wylie’s project is an
aesthetic one, which is not to say a formalist one. The
intersection between art and politics enters only insofar
as it is suggested by the corresponding labors of the
photographer and the cavatori themselves. That is, a
photograph is the outcome of Wylie’s artistic labor;
the extraction and presentation of marble blocks is
the manual, creative labor of the cavatori. Thus Wylie
does not document labor conditions or the effects of
globalization, which undoubtedly do enter into the
habitus of the Carrara quarry; rather, he is concerned
only with these corresponding labors and the aesthetictemporal interest they pose.19 In other words, Wylie
exchanges socio-political documentary and critique for
an aesthetic belatedness that is best understood as one
of the primary conditions of a work of art. As Deleuze
posits, it is the condition of the work of art “to arrive
too late in all other respects except precisely this one:
time regained.”20 Each art image de-actualizes what
remains within and inseparable from the image itself:
a non-chronological, non-discursive temporality that
underlies any geography, any writing on and of
the earth.
The creative event of Carrara is an attentiveness
beyond the landscape, to a recollection beyond
signification. Wylie creates images of Carrara and its
workers that do not reflect a preexistent reality as much
as they present the quarry—as geography and proper
name—as percept. The quarry as percept exceeds our
expectations and perceptions of the landscape, which
frame the portraits of marble blocks and cavatori.
The quarry as percept renders visible forces that
“populate the universe” of the quarry, which “affect
us and make us become” because “the landscape is
no longer an external reality, but has become the very
element of a ‘passage of Life.’”21 This is the potentiality
of art: to render and transmit an opening to “time as
primary matter, immense and terrifying, like universal
becoming.”22 Art is and opens us to such a becoming,
such an experiment-experience that “goes beyond
william wylie, 02-71, Carrara, 2008. pigment print, 29 x 37 inches. courtesy of the artist
and jenkins johnson gallery, san francisco.
[anything] lived or livable” since “it exists only in
thought and has no other result than the work of art.”23
This is not to abandon thought and art as ends-inthemselves, but rather to posit each as pure means
because, as Deleuze reminds us, “thought and art are
real, and disturb the reality, morality, and economy of
the world.”24
As we leave the quarry, we take one last glance
backward at a cavatore, whose clothes are dusted
white; only a few spots of color (his green bootlaces)
remain; dark glasses protect him from the blinding
light of the white walls, as he stands in front of a flimsy
rail protecting him from the abyss behind him (06-19,
Carlo Morelli, Carrara, 2008). With confident impatience
he stands still, a contraction of time in the quarry.
This is the becoming-quarry (becoming-stone) of the
worker, pietra viva (living stone, indeed). Thus he only
appears still in the image, but in this becoming-quarry,
the cavatore and the Cava di Gioia become something
between them: the subject and the landscape; the latter
will outlive the former; the former excavates the latter
into “blocks of sensation.” But it is only the image,
Wylie’s photography, that renders this becoming a
“bloc of sensation,” an ensemble of percepts and
affects. Ultimately, it is this becoming-quarry that
is no longer a world, but an impersonal geography
created as Cézanne desired: an “iridescent chaos”
wherein an artist can “tear open the firmament itself,
to let in a bit of free and windy chaos and to frame in a
sudden light a vision that appears through the rent.”25
As with Deleuze, Wylie would rather not “patch over
the rent with opinions: communications.” Instead,
Wylie demands our time, our patient becoming, as
he obscures himself behind the camera. In media res,
chaos and composition, Wylie’s Carrara forces us to
sense how and why the only creative geography, the
only world (cosmos) opened by art is the one wherein
we are each a chaosmos.26
Jae Emerling teaches art history at the University of
north Carolina, Charlotte. He is the author of Theory
for Art History and is currently at work on a book about
photography and critical theory to be published by
Routledge in 2011.
17. on the unraveling of a
modern (and post-modern)
“aesthetic regime” and the
attendant eschatological
discourse of the end, see
my piece on rancière’s The
Future of the Image in Journal
of Visual Culture, 7, no. 3
(December, 2008), 376-381.
Photography has certainly
not avoided this discourse;
see geoffrey Batchen’s
brilliant “Epitaph” to Burning
With Desire: The Conception
of Photography (Cambridge,
Ma: the Mit Press, 1997)
and kelsey and stimson, The
Meaning of Photography.
18. i am referring to the work
by both salgado and Jaar at
the serra Pelado goldmine
in Brazil. salgado’s work can
be seen in his Workers: An
Archaeology of the Industrial
Age (new york: aperture,
2005). Jaar’s photography
often factors into his
mixed-media installations
such as Gold in the Morning
(1986). the distinction
between these projects
and Wylie’s can be seen in
Wylie’s beautiful film Dust
(2008). Projects closer to
Wylie’s own include lewis
Baltz’s Park City (new
york: aperture, 1981),
Mark ruwedel’s Westward
the Course of Empire (new
Haven: yale university
Press, 2008), and alan
Cohen’s On European Ground
(Chicago: the university
of Chicago Press, 2001).
19. this correspondence is
reinforced in exhibitions of
the project as well, where
images from each section are
arranged together, evincing
Wylie’s desire to have us
read across the tripartite
arrangement of the book.
20. Deleuze, Cinema 2: The
Time-Image, 97.
21. Daniel W. smith,
“introduction,” Deleuze, Essays
Critical and Clinical, xxxiv.
22. Deleuze, Cinema 2: The
Time-Image, 115.
23. smith, xxviii.
24. Deleuze, The Logic of Sense,
translated by Constantine
Boundas (new york:
Columbia university
Press, 1990), 60.
25. Deleuze and guattari,
What Is Philosophy?, 203.
26. Deleuze discusses this
concept in several texts;
see The Logic of Sense and
What Is Philosophy?
volume 11 number 4 summer 2009 23