The Painter—or what you might call a robot—improvises like an actor, generating unexpected narratives whilst nevertheless fulfilling a sort of choreography. Its creator, artist Piero Golia, directs and “speaks” unseen from under the stage, and remains more interested in the possibilities that the whole set may provide. In the same way, rather than a record, this book acts as a multiplier of narratives.

A robot of several tons and its fourteen-meter long track are mounted in the Kunsthaus Basselland. Programmed and then activated, it begins to paint. The Painter’s elegant movements respond both to a coded script and the presence of visitors entering the exhibition space. The painted canvases thus become a collection of stories—about the exhibition itself and the passing of time. It is about “choreographing reality,” says Golia in a conversation with Jonathan Monk. In this book, their conversation, a text by Ines Goldbach, pictures of the installation, and, especially, a selection of documents, notes and sketches related to projects the artists implemented whilst the Painter was painting, add more layers of interpretation and suggest possible narratives.