In the world of art, every creator has a piece they hold in the highest regard, regardless of how others perceive it. This article delves into the fascinating story behind the creation of the artist book "Kaif & Oblom," valued at an astonishing $1 billion.
The urge to create something unique and extraordinary is a fundamental human trait. While women often find fulfillment in motherhood, men frequently seek to leave their mark through innovation or creation. This drive can manifest in two ways: the complex path of invention and discovery, or the simpler, often destructive route. The former is the domain of those who strive to break new ground, even if it means defying the laws of nature. The latter is typically chosen by those with a more troubled mindset.
On July 1, 1996, Amiran Guntaishvili visited my studio with an unusual request. He wanted me to design two books, "Kaif" and "Oblom." Initially, I found the idea amusing, especially given the seemingly trivial nature of the titles. However, knowing Amiran's serious demeanor and business acumen, I realized this was no ordinary project. Our conversation evolved into a collaborative brainstorming session, and it became clear that this was an opportunity to create something truly unique.
As an artist, I faced a choice: I could either simply illustrate Amiran's concept and move on, or I could transform it into an unprecedented work of art. I chose the latter, fully aware of the risks and sacrifices involved. Amiran's idea was not entirely new; previous attempts had been made but failed due to a lack of depth and understanding.
The concept for "Kaif" originated from a casual remark made in Amiran's presence: "I wish someone would give me a million dollars just for the hell of it!" While others laughed, Amiran saw potential. He proposed creating a book that contained "nothing" and selling it for a million dollars. The value of the book would lie not in its content but in the intellectual pleasure it provided to the buyer.
The book "Kaif" would be a blank canvas, allowing the purchaser to project their own ideas and interpretations onto it. This made the buyer the true genius, as they derived meaning from the void. To complement "Kaif," Amiran suggested creating a second book, "Oblom," which would contain his own ideas under the pseudonym Ubralo Adamiani, meaning "Simple Man" in Georgian. If "Kaif" was sold, "Oblom" would serve as a frustrated expression of the author's original concept.
On November 15, 1996, Amiran and I sat in a modest café, unveiling the world's first completely empty and utterly simple luxury object. This "Immaterialized Nothing" was both the last book of the 20th century and the first of the 21st, a duality that added to its mystique. We toasted with champagne, feeling a mix of warmth, satisfaction, and melancholy.
The concept of selling "nothing" for a substantial sum is not entirely unprecedented. In 2011, Italian artist Salvatore Garau sold an invisible sculpture for $18,300, proving that the value of art often lies in its conceptual depth rather than its physical form (source). This aligns with Amiran's vision for "Kaif," where the true worth is in the intellectual engagement it offers.
"Kaif & Oblom" is a testament to the power of ideas and the limitless potential of human creativity. It challenges conventional notions of value and art, offering a unique experience that transcends the physical realm. As we continue to explore the boundaries of artistic expression, projects like this remind us that sometimes, the most profound creations are those that leave room for interpretation.
By embracing the abstract and the intangible, "Kaif & Oblom" stands as a unique and thought-provoking addition to the world of art.
