CUSP OF RECOGNITION

 

The art of seeing beyond what is visible is not performed through an increase in the quantifiable pressure of observation, through closer scrutiny or more intensive inquisition. It is not a case of getting nearer, for this will only amplify the detail, bringing the visible closer into range. Different means of looking produce different registers of affect. It is a question of finding the right method. The scientific glance might be too incisive. It strives to see beyond the visible by searching first beneath, anaesthetising its subject before peeling back its layers. Nor will microscopic curiosity uncover the secrets of the interior. Its lens creates further opacity, rendering the visible only less familiar to the eye. The act of looking harder, more forcefully, causes things to retreat or withdraw, for they might not respond well to such advances. Patiently then, for trust must be gained. To see beyond what is habitually seen is not achieved by pushing the visible aside, for certain truths become too vulnerable if forcibly exposed. The visible is a veil whose logic is only ever lifted, briefly, momentarily let to slip or to fall. Openings in the fabric of the visible are thus not so much produced then as encountered, fleetingly glimpsed. Here, the glimpse operates as an aperture in the real, a portal to other places and times, both future and past. The horizontal present is ruptured by another frequency of experience, the vertical or vertiginous force of something felt or sensed. By catching both the watched and witness off-guard, the glimpse is experienced as a poetic fall from or faltering within what is known or certain. It exists at the cusp of recognition, where the witness is left unable to fully find the words for communicating what they have seen.

 

From Emma Cocker, How Do You Do?, (Nottingham: Beam Editions, 2023).