It’s impossible to move, to live, to function without leaving traces —marks, fragments, vaguely meaningless bits of information and history carried through time and touch. For instance, without our footprints, without any traces or marks of touch, our very existence dissolves into oblivion. Traces are impressions left by touch—and sometimes, they’re the impressions one can never touch at all. We are defined by our interactions, our tangible and intangible imprints on the world. Yet, within the walls and context of museums, we are instructed to suspend this aspect of our existence, to observe without engaging, to experience without truly touching. This paradox, the “museumization” of art, raises fundamental questions about the nature of experience, the role of the senses, and the very essence of what constitutes an artwork. This notion however has been changing with experimentation and vanguard in art since the late 1990s.
In most museums, the signs read “DO NOT TOUCH.” A simple directive, yet laden with tension that forbids sensory engagement and denies us one of our most primal modes of understanding. The museumization of memories is a common phenomenon in art, where tactile, sensory experiences are encased within untouchable objects—curated, contextualized, and preserved. But is art not meant to evoke the senses? Can it be fully experienced without materiality? Must we feel it physically to be moved emotionally?
These questions become clearer when we examine certain art practices. Performance art, text-based installations, and lens-based practices all offer alternate ways to engage.
Consider Farheen Fatima’s Where the water holds us Gently (Fig.1), which explores beauty in routine and intimacy around a lake in Chandigarh, capturing the evolving traces of touch and leisure. She brings the experience into a space of “Museumization”. A sign next to her installation reads, “Please feel free to touch the water.” In this gesture, the viewer becomes a participant, not restricted from engaging with their full sensory self. Here, water becomes both metaphor and medium, pedestalized yet accessible.
Touch, like all other senses is a visible-invisible, often perceived through marks, impressions and traces, an articulation of the lingering residue of our existence and actions. Footprints in the sand, a fingerprint on a glass surface, the faint scent of a perfume are all the tangible residue of our presence, our interaction with the world. Without them, our presence fades.
This idea extends beyond the physical realm, encompassing memories, emotions, and experiences that leave their mark on our consciousness. Traces are the echoes of our past, the building blocks of our identity. When art records these traces, how do we engage with them without physical interaction?
Museumization, in the context of art, becomes a process of capturing and preserving these traces, often transforming them into objects of contemplation rather than interaction. The “DO NOT TOUCH” sign becomes a barrier, a symbolic separation between the viewer and the artwork, effectively pausing a moment in time, a sensation, an experience. This process is particularly prevalent in the transformation of “tactile, tangible object or experience” into museum pieces.
Can a sensation of touch be truly captured and conveyed without the possibility of physical interaction? Is this preservation a faithful representation of the original experience? This is where the contradiction lies. Art, at its core, is meant to evoke a response, to engage the senses. Can this be still achieved when one of the fundamental senses is denied?
These questions challenge us to reconsider the very understanding of art and its potential. The traditional view of art as limited to visual means is challenged by the recognition that experience is multi-sensory. We don’t just see the world, we feel it, smell it, taste it, and hear it. Can art truly replicate this experience within the confines of a museum in its entirety? Here, the impermanence and temporality of performance art, the tangibility of text-based art, and the lens-based practices capturing touch without its physical verity offer unique perspectives.
Performance art, by its very nature, challenges the notion of permanence and the museum’s desire to plan and freeze time within the loop of being and becoming. A performance is a temporary moment, a unique and sometimes pre-structured interaction between the artist and the audience, leaving behind only traces in the form of memories, photographs, and videos. These traces, however, are not the performance itself, but rather its residue, a testament to its existence. The ephemeral nature of performance art rejects the limitations of museumization, highlighting the impossibility of truly capturing a lived experience in a frame or on a pedestal.
Text-based art explores the tactile potential of language and words to evoke emotions and create mental images. While seemingly intangible, words possess a physical presence on the page or screen, a visual-tactile quality that engages the senses. The act of reading becomes a form of interaction, a mental engagement with the artist’s thoughts and ideas, transporting the viewer into the world of imagination. Text-based art demonstrates that touch is not solely a physical act, but also a mental and emotional connection. This can be seen in works like Treachery of Images by Rene Magritte (Fig.2) that challenges the perception and sensibility. It is like placing a Blue dot and calling it Red, how does your mind then touch upon this information? Likewise, Access Denied under the series Walking withoutside history by Resting Museum comments and captures the essence of ‘pedestrian’ and its interpretations through a projection that almost touches you and denies access although the idea of touch here is not materialised but implied through instruction in text (Fig.3).
Lens-based practices, such as photography and film, offer a different perspective on the dialect of touch. While they cannot replicate the physical sensation, they can capture the visual cues associated with touch, the subtle gestures, the fleeting expressions that convey intimacy and connection. A photograph of a mother’s hand can evoke a sense of touch without requiring physical contact. These practices demonstrate the power of visual representation to evoke sensory experiences, even in the absence of physical interaction.
The “DO NOT TOUCH” constraint, thus becomes a symbol of the inherent tension between the desire to preserve and the need to experience. It forces us to confront the limitations of museumization and to consider alternative ways of engaging with art. The core essence of art probably lies not in its physical manifestation, but in its ability to evoke a response, to stir emotions and imagination. It can be further understood with Diorama of an exhibition , A window S.H.O.P (seeing has other purpose) by CONA Projects (Fig.4) , a project where the visitors were invited to see the display and wish for the desired objects within the glass enclosed display. It was a shop that may or may not open within the 144 hours of its display, toying with anticipation, perception and desire. Engagement becomes conceptual and sensory, even without physical contact.
Traces are both impressions of touch and those we cannot physically feel. This paradox renders the notion that touch is not limited to physical contact but extends through the realm of senses and emotions. The impressions you “cannot touch” represent the intangible aspects of experience, the memories, emotions, and ideas that linger long after the physical sensation evaporates. The relationship between art, experience,and the senses are complex.
It challenges us to reconsider our understanding of touch and to recognize the limitations of museumization. While the preservation of art is important, it should not come at the expense of its engagement. Art should be an immersive, multi-sensory experience, one that transcends the physical realm and touches us on a deeper, more profound level. The museums have found new ways to engage the senses, to create interactive experiences that allow visitors to truly connect with art, to experience the traces of human creativity in all their complexity and depth. Until then, we are left to contemplate the paradox of touch, the “visible invisible,” the impressions that linger even when we are denied the physical act of touching. Art should be free from its overburdening definitions and structures moving into a fluid, flowing adaptation of time, space and experience.
References:
- Berger, John, Ways of Seeing, Reprint, London, Penguin, 2008.
- Curatorial concept and notes from Multiplay curated by Thukral and Tagra as a part of the Serendipity arts festival 2024, in Goa.
Tile Image Credit: Human head sculpted in clay, hands holding clay ears. Heather Spears, photography ICandy. Source: Wellcome Collection.