It is a brisk Sunday morning, and at the corner of a busy street lies the hustle and bustle of a small coffee shop. Chairs and tables are set out cozily at the storefront--where locals read their papers or chatter with friends while drinking their rich coffee in delicate cups. The coffee shop is packed both inside and out--always a hit for their pastries and morning coffee--making it difficult to find a table out front, unless one is early.
A older man sits alone, across from an empty seat, and an open book in hand. He glances at his watch, looks up to survey the people around him. Hm, I wonder if I should order the coffee now, he thinks. Pondering for a moment, he dismisses the idea and goes back to reading his book.
"Joseph!"
The man looks up from his book. An elderly asian man stands at his table with a twinkle in his eye and a grin across his face--a twinkle of nostalgia, and a grin between old friends.
"Kawara-san!" He sets his book down, and the two embrace one other heartily. "It's great to finally get to see you again, I feel as though we have been too busy to catch up with what the other has been doing!" exclaims Kosuth.
"I know, huh? Time seems to fly, yet I feel as though things have only just happened yesterday! Please excuse my lateness--these old legs of mine no longer bring me to places like they did before" smiles Kawara.
"It's understandable," laughs Kosuth, "I know exactly what you mean." He waves down a waiter, and orders two specialty coffees. Setting his book aside, he smiles at Kawara.
"So how have you been since the last I've seen you? Can you believe it that it has only been a few months since we last saw that one exhibit together?" laughs Kosuth. "I forgot, whose work was it that we saw?"
"Oh, Kosuth, you have such short-term memory," chuckles Kawara. "We went to go see that one artist, what's his name... I think it was Kehinde Wiley. Remember how his works were fantastically large in scale? How they exploded of color?"
"Oh yes, yes! I remember now!" exclaims Kosuth.
The coffees arrive--with rich steam cutting through the chilly air. Both of the men take a sip, sighing with the look of pure calm on their faces. Looking out towards the street, the two of them slowly sip their coffees, and take in the morning air. "I remember when you did that one piece, the one with the articles cut and pasted together, displayed on the wall," begins Kawara. "It was very straight-forward, with no strings attached! Sometimes I wonder if others had interpreted it differently; since it was so direct, I don't know if there was any space for one to really formulate their opinions on it--it was kind of just given on a plate!"
Kosuth sets his cup down, and pushes it slightly to the side. "Now, now, why are we bringing this up?" he laughs. "What about your works, huh? Like that series of paintings you did, with just the dates painted on a solid black! I'd have to say that that was pretty straight-forward too; you didn't leave any room for interpretation at all!"
Kawara holds his cup close, and gazes out towards the street. "No, no--there you are wrong. There was plenty of space for interpretation! Not everyone experiences the same things and events on any specific day, do they? I'm sure there were people who looked at the date, and thought about what had happened on that day in their life, or even about the history of that day, if it was of any significance!"
"And what if they didn't remember what they did on that day, hm? I'm sure no one remembers what they do on any given ordinary day--noe one thought oh hm, on this date, this happened and that happened, unless it was some historical date that you painted."
"Well, I believe my work was pretty open for plenty of interpretation," laughs Kawara. He looks at Kosuth, who slowly mixes his coffee with the delicate tea spoon that comes with the cup. "And I'm still standing my ground on your piece being so close-minded," smiles Kawara.
"Oh, stop it, what is with this talk about solid ideas and solid interpretation? You are ruining my morning with this pleasant coffee," jokes Kosuth. They sit back, facing towards the street, as people walk in and out of the coffee shop, either chatting on the phone or with a friend.
Sigh. "Art is expressed so differently now," says Kosuth. "Sometimes it's hard to get a grip on what the artist is trying to say."
Kawara chuckles. "You think?" He warms his hands with his coffee cup. "Maybe it's just the presentation of the works these days that make it seem like they are being expressed differently. However, art is art--it will always be expressed differently from individual to individual, and it will always be free for all and any kind of interpretation! Just like that artist, Kehinde Wiley... His art was very nicely executed through its size and its vibrant colors--and of course, the obvious statement of framing the African-American community at a higher, more noble pedestal!"
"I know, I know," says Kosuth. He takes a sip of his coffee, which had started to settle and cool down. "Art will always be a free-for-all--it's the idea in the artist's head that matters the most!" he exclaims, as he taps his index finger to his temple. "As long as the artist has his concept solidly formed within his mind, it doesn't matter how he chooses to express it."
Kawara nods. "Definitely. I agree with you whole-heartedly."
He turns toward Kosuth, and raises his coffee cup. "To art," he smiles.
"Yes, to art..." smiles Kosuth, "...and to having silly arguments with good friends!"
They both laugh. The sun turns brighter as their laughter and chatter becomes indistinguishable from the conversations around them that make the hustle and bustle of the small coffee shop--a small taste of past and future conversations between two old friends.
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