Five untitled objects (various materials), laminated labels (blank), an interactive naming station (non-functional), and a recorded apology.
Please Stop Naming Things is an urgent plea against categorisation, a direct confrontation with language’s futile attempt to impose order onto the unordered. The installation consists of five completely unidentifiable objects, each placed on its own pristine white plinth. They resist classification. They are not sculptures, nor are they functional. They are simply there, refusing to confirm or deny their own purpose.
Each plinth features a laminated museum-style label beneath it. The labels are blank.
At the far end of the gallery, visitors encounter what appears to be an interactive station labeled Name this Object. It consists of a touchscreen and a keyboard, inviting participants to define what cannot be defined. However, the touchscreen does not respond. The keyboard is not plugged in. The act of naming has been made impossible.
A soft voice plays over hidden speakers every six minutes. It simply says, “We’re sorry, but that name is already taken.”
“A thing does not need a name to exist. It does not need a category to matter. A chair is only a chair because someone pointed at it and said so. What if we stopped pointing?”
— Davos
This work operates in the liminal space between language and objecthood. Taking cues from minimalist sculpture, conceptual negation, and the failures of taxonomy, Please Stop Naming Things refuses to participate in the viewer’s desperate need for identification.
The five objects—made of unspecified materials—offer no clues to their origins or intended use. Are they industrial remnants? Sculptural gestures? Forgotten tools? Each visitor arrives with their own assumptions, only to be confronted with a complete lack of confirmation. The interactive naming station, a cruel mirage of participation, heightens the frustration. The recorded apology, played at irregular intervals, taunts those who attempt to impose meaning.
It is unclear whether the apology is sincere.
• The touchscreen is non-functional. No amount of pressing will change this.
• If you feel an overwhelming urge to classify what you see, please sit with that feeling until it passes.
Price: £540,000 (includes all five objects, blank labels, and a certificate that simply states “It Exists.”)