Time & Perspective Quote by Bruce Nauman

Nauman’s refusal to offer “specific steps” is a small act of sabotage against the tidy myth of artistic process. In an art world that loves the studio-as-laboratory narrative (repeatable, teachable, brandable), he insists on contingency: he “doesn’t start the same way every time” because the work isn’t the execution of a plan so much as a situation he enters and tests. That’s deeply consistent with a sculptor whose practice has often treated the body, the room, and the viewer’s nerves as raw material.

The key phrase is “a knowing.” It sounds anti-intellectual until you hear what it’s actually doing: claiming expertise without pretending it’s codifiable. Nauman is pointing to a kind of judgment that arrives through repetition, failure, and attention, not through a checklist. The subtext is a warning to both audiences and aspiring artists: you can’t outsource this to technique, and you can’t fully explain it after the fact without lying a little.

“And you can leave it alone” carries the sting. It’s not just about finishing; it’s about restraint. Nauman’s work often hovers at the edge of irritation, discomfort, and conceptual overload. Knowing when to stop is ethical as much as aesthetic: don’t over-determine the encounter, don’t polish away the friction that makes it alive. In the background is postwar skepticism about mastery and grand statements. He’s not selling genius; he’s defending the artist’s right to uncertainty - and the discipline it takes to recognize “enough” before the work turns into mere completion.