![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiddN6imCHwlytbISFbNysHfiWmkQDUj_qhCA7B6YBBPkyAOhyEO8Glx06IjxiNU5QqWfvB-JQwR1QO7SGRyTcOck5rkkY9RPH9O4d4e0ptL6W3twM-4iIfPbUuCHTGKMWRh1tNzy9RZIBW/w640-h426/Martine+Syms+Loot+Sweets+Bridget+Donahue%252C+New+York.jpeg)
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Thomas Hirschhorn also started as a graphic designer, also invested in tape construction, but Hirschhorn sold his fandom of philosophy as philosophy (a Gramsci t-shirt in the form of artwork) which was bogus if endearing. Syms' constructions are less the constructions of phallic monument broadcasting the big self than a collecting flotsam of identity, the graphic ring of scum clinging each our cup's rim. The debris of culture, a collective identity. This is our stuf. The undigested matter clogging our pipes and our consciousness. This is afterall the post-Harrison/Genzken aftermath. It's all a bit Unmonumental, which like Maggie Lee, an interest in the becoming stage, self-consciousness and construction. We become the diggers, forced investigators, of our own world.
See too: Martine Syms at Human Resources, Maggie Lee, Thomas Hirschhorn