He Fa on Beuys

Beneath the broad-brimmed felt hat is a long canvas vest, rows of enormous square pockets bulging outward, while ivory rounded sleeves send the hands out to either side. This outfit borrows the felt hat and many-pocketed layers associated with Beuys, but its new proportions make the pockets the main subject. I have not shown what is inside, so the image of preparation is established before the work itself.

A pocket inspires trust because it suggests that something can be taken out at any moment. Yet capacity can also conceal the difficulty of finding things. If every pocket is large enough and their positions too similar, a small tool may disappear into excessive preparation. Treating the quantity of equipment as ability ignores whether a hand can actually reach inside, and whether priorities can be distinguished when it is time to use something.

The sagging fabric offers a cautious entry into metaphor. It can suggest carrying a load, but cannot prove that the pockets are full, much less invent a working history for me. I prefer to regard them as promises yet to be fulfilled: every additional place requires an answer to why it is necessary. Folds cannot be used to claim a sense of completion in advance.

Minimal equipment is not necessarily wiser either. Some actions do require reserves, and lacking a single item at the wrong moment may stop an entire process. What I oppose is carrying every backup on one's body forever, while blaming slow progress on other people's inadequate preparation. Real thoroughness should include sharing, storage and deciding what not to carry, rather than simply adding more squares to the chest.

I first clear one of the easiest pockets to reach for whatever is truly needed next. The remaining space need not be ashamed to admit it is unused. The felt hat and bulging pockets may help you recognize a worker's outline, but to know what this body can do, you must still wait for me to reach in, take out a particular object and accept the consequences of using it.