Inherent vice is the tendency in physical objects to deteriorate because of the fundamental instability of the components of which they are made, as opposed to deterioration caused by external forces.
The term is broadly used in archival practice to recognize the material constraints of preservation activities. For example, many kinds of paper have acid in them that makes them chemically unstable. Over time, the acid will eat away the text on the page and cause paper to turn yellow or brown and become brittle. As the acid continues to break down the cellulose fibers, the paper disintegrates.
Slowing this tendency of objects to self-destruct requires an understanding of how materials interact. This includes not just an understanding of the intrinsic qualities of the materials themselves, but also the way that they affect and are affected by the other materials that they come into contact with.
Inherent vice can be used as a justification for refusing to insure an item, as its intrinsically self-destructive nature may make it unacceptable risk to and insurer. Excerpt from Wikipedia.
The day photography superseded its role and magically created abstract paintings
Spacetime the fourth dimension, appropriation, objets trouvés, comprise the vocabulary of modern art!
Forget the impressionists painting light ‘en plein air’, forget the color field painters and the conceptual artists redefining the nature of art. An experiment in abstract expressionism happened in complete darkness in the bottom of my fridge.
A box of Polacolor 59, had been forgotten for some twenty years behind the lower drawer of my fridge. Lost in time and prey to electrical shortages and haphazard water drips, the box was sweaty, foul smelling, smeared in mildew. The metal edges of the polaroid rusted away.
I do not know what prompted me to open the rotten, fetid pack and expose the polaroids but the reveal was breathtaking.
The surface exploded with profound hues of yellow, blue and red. Not the faded values of a developing polaroid but a blast of primary colors sprung from the chemical reaction on the layers. Even the developing side was awash with deep hues.
I made a lot of polaroid transfers in the nineties and loved the idea of this skin of colors playing with transparencies and brilliance but I never expected the magic to happen -in secret- out of my reach.
The emulsion had created its own art with time and pixie dust.
All objects seem to change with time. People too. Aging? Entropy? new forms of beauty? A playing field for discovery