Hanne Darboven's universe is expressed mainly in numbers. I think that we came to her after acquiring Opalka; but of course, they are two separate worlds, two investigations that are going in completely opposite directions. Darboven's work in our collection, dated 1970, consists of a total of eleven sheets of paper, ten of which are typewritten and the final one written by hand (pencil).
What fascinates me about this artist is the thought that someone can reveal themselves almost exclusively through numbers: I refer to the possibility of expressing concepts, feelings about life and everything else that pertains to the human being. Darboven has spent a lifetime writing numbers "because it is a way of writing without describing" (and, in her words, "has nothing to do with mathematics"), with a profound faith in herself and her work. Can one be so strong inside, and can one brush against madness to this extent, surviving and continuing to express oneself as an artist who is solitary, but totally acknowledged and respected? Not all the paths followed by artists can be entirely intuited: to me, Hanne Darboven is proof of a great artist that I can only admire, but whose work I cannot "enter" in order to make it mine. I am irresistibly attracted by it, like a mystery that I would like to solve without succeeding. I believe that a collection should also be able to record this: greatness that remains illusive because of one's own personal limitations. But I would like nevertheless to have a fragment of this "greatness", of this mysterious universe: I know that it is precious, originating in the mind of a very special woman, who has devoted her entire life to making art. And I don't know why, but instinctively I write "in solitude". I mean a more profound solitude than that which in general all artists experience in their work.