Subjectivity (and the subjectivity of the artist in particular) is a fundamental question for Kentridge, as discussed in the second episode–– Self Portrait as a Coffee Pot. Kentridge departs from an investigation that refuses to be detached or abstract; instead, it is intentionally grounded in the body. For Kentridge, the body constitutes a constellation of intentions, a map of memories, desires, and voices, all surfacing on the skin. In his vision, the body constitutes a powerful and serious metaphor connoting both our existence and our relationship with the Other. Let’s think, for example, he suggests, about the complex liminal space that exists between the interior––the body as a skeleton, and the exterior––the landscape of perception, as the territory for expressivity and interaction. Or, let’s think, he adds, how different the perception of the body as a presence is from the bodily image we all frame in our heads in terms of representation. These differences are foundational to our modern thinking, and it has become more and more important to re-ground any thinking on subjectivity through an interrogation of the body. In support of this argument, Kentridge poses a series of significant questions: If the body is the substance that holds our memories, movements, and actions, what roles do they play in our life? What would it be to look at our skin as the surface where memories and desires mark their own inscriptions? How can we renegotiate the fragility of our life before language and meaning? Is beauty still a value to perceive through the body? How do our living bodies perceive dead bodies? What makes the self and what constitutes our identities? Are we seeing ourselves as others see us? And in a more existentialist view, how can we renegotiate our inner spirit of tragedy in the Greek sense in the modern era of algorithms and automatization? There are no definitive answers to these questions, but Kentridge’s work aims to overcome these dilemmas through the power of artistic acts, staging a redoubled, mirrored performance which gives expressivity to energies and movements by resembling the motion of drawing lines in space and time.

Representation is also a fundamental, complex question for Kentridge. His investigation poses a constructive critique of the foundations of Western representation as discussed in the third episode, Vanishing Points. Two images of two contrasting landscapes––a comforting view of a flourishing natural landscape and the image of a desolate minefield––are key to Kentridge’s argument. The first image, which follows the canons of perspectival vision, can be unanimously perceived as an emblem for the reassuring order of Western representation, but for Kentridge, such an interpretation is not sufficient. The artist points out how in our global modernity it is morally and ethically impossible not to ask what is left out of such an established framework. By questioning the truth pursued by the classical regime of representation, the artist reminds us about what we leave outside ourselves and our horizon, and this becomes a powerful opening for the invisible and unrepresented in his work. Contemporary history, he suggests, has dramatically shown us the need to strategically rethink our globally pursued progressivist line of thought. Let’s think for instance, about how Covid made it necessary to explore sustainable and environmental practices to avoid any possible apocalyptic scenarios. Perhaps, he suggests, it is important to follow the marking of traces and signs even if they are randomly left on our land. At this stage, Kentridge addresses the notion of a “sense of place,” a mnemonic and affective mode to approach both environmental and cultural contexts by detecting the untold histories or narrations preserved by it. By superbly intertwining African history with the Covid epoch, the artist proposes a reading of unexplored and unrepresented signs, moving from familiar memories to social and global propositions without pretending to reach any definite truth. Kentridge suggests that to acknowledge these propositions means to recognize that the domain of representation defined by perspectival vision is ultimately only a chimaera. A sustainable counter-method may involve a more in-depth analysis, an analysis which moves beyond appearances and phenomena to live in intensity and value things not only through a human-centered vision but, within reason, of what natural forces and their energy signs can bring to the world in terms of vitalism and expressivity.  This is not only a sustainable or environmental issue; it may also involve new methods and models to rethink the relationship between the self and the Other. South African history is emblematic in this regard, he argues, and to explain this phenomenon, Kentridge employs a highly symbolic image: the image of a tree of life hidden by its own shadow. Is it still possible to recognize the symbolic value of a tree even if it hides in the darkness? Kentridge addresses this latter question by imaginatively visualizing a scenario in the museological context of the Johannesburg’s Art Gallery, here symbolizing the emblem of Western systems of representation in South Africa. What would it be if labor forces and minorities disrupt this established order to reclaim visibility? In answering this question, Kentridge imagines the floor of the Johannesburg Art Gallery collapsing due to an earthquake, letting invisible forces and invisible subjects emerge, as a way to reconnect distant societies and cultures through inclusive forms of representation.