Paranormal Postcards, 2001.
Office Semaphore, 2006.
Marketing Tips for Spiders, 1998.
From BookPace of the Sorted Books project, 2002.
Above works by Nina Katchadourian.
A hand creates with thread or cable an eye or aperture through which to pass, thereby opens up a distinct interval. Clear, in other words neither obstructed nor blocked: the thread passes as many times as it wishes or is able, in every direction or dimension invented by the passage itself. And the gesture repeats the open eye and the between-path. This is analysis, but it ties without untying, or prepares to untie while tying tightly, clearly and distinctly. Knots create place by multiplying these between-spaces clearly and distinctly. Here, far from destroying, analysis constructs, the dichotomy or cut being constantly repaired. The in-between is superabundant there, it brings things closer to each other rather than tearing them apart.
These gestures of weaving, knitting or knot-tying have been ours since body and time immemorial: even the birds in the sky know how to knot or weave with their beaks or legs when making their nests. These are the buried origins of topology and therefore of geometry; beginnings where sight disappears into touch, where touch, sensitive and delicate, sees contours, the smooth and the separate: origins preceding the arrival of speech by an entire era.
In tying, weaving or knot-making, hand and gaze devote themselves to connecting the far and the near, or to creating varieties from a simple line: flat or voluminous, tight or loose, dense or scattered. Place begins to proliferate by the very same element that denies place, cutting through the global economically. It attaches itself to other places as it goes along, as the tacking point passes to the bowline and through it connects with the whole rigging of the ship leaving for the other end of the world. Through their topological design, their friction and their strength, in distinction and clarity, knots weld the local to the global and conversely.
—Serres, Michel. The Five Senses. p303.