I have been wishing that I had kept all the mobile phones that I have ever owned. I haven't, of course, I've either thrown them away or put them in an envelope for some or other charity and whilst that is all well and good, it struck me that it would be quite interesting to see the progression of phones that I have been through, but also might make quite an interesting piece of art. For some reason I think that hammering a nail through the middle of them all, attaching them to a plank of wood, in the order I had them, with a little hand written note about the dates they were used, would be the kind of modern art that Saatchi might pay hundreds of thousands for. But it would have some artistic worth too - showing the redundancy of our consumer society, along with the progress of technology. Yesterday I saw a guy who was using the mobile phone that I probably had in about 2000 and as well as a Peter Kay sense of nostalgia and a fleeting sense of superiority (God, why would you still have
that phone) it made me want to put all the phones I had ever had in a line and contemplate the passage of time. I don't know if I'd really want to put a nail through them, not straight away, but it would be interesting to see.
Of course our consumer society is so disposable that things that were once prized become practically worthless almost immediately they are replaced and so we don't hold on to them (I am sure a few of you have done though and so now you can make the hundreds of thousands of pounds from an art collector that I can't). The fact that the phones aren't there is almost more of an artistic statement. And for the art to work it's no good just replacing the missing phone with one of the same model. I think it has to be the ones you personally had for any of this to work.
Of course in my exhibit there would be a missing phone anyway - my first iPhone stolen by the thief on a bike - but that would just make the work more moving and fascinating and valuable.
My phone is probably my favourite item in the world - I claimed in Hitler Moustache that I loved it more than my girlfriend and who can truly say if that is correct or a humourous exaggeration? - and yet once it has been replaced (which weirdly for me, it hasn't yet been, even though I am now due an upgrade and there is a supposedly better iPhone out now) it will be meaningless to me. My love will be completely transferred. Even moreso than moving from one lover to another, where usually some vestige of love or extreme hatred remains. Once I have a new phone, my beloved old phone will mean nothing to me (even as my original iPhone was disappearing into the distance I was already imagining the new and better phone I would now get) and end up in a drawer, or as a spare iPod or given away to someone less fortunate (either a charity or someone who can't get the iPhone 4). That is a strange relationship to have with anything. Something so precious becomes so quickly meaningless. How wasteful we are.
But on the other hand this procession of phones nailed to a plank of wood with annotated notes would really show how the world has moved on since the mid-90s, when even having a mobile phone was still considered a bit poncy and show-offy and when phones could really only be used to make phone calls and text and maybe play Snake. A museum would show the progression of a certain type of object or invention over centuries and yet in less than two decades the mobile phone has evolved and altered so much. It's almost dizzying to think about it.
I can only vaguely picture my first phone. I know it was pretty bulky and useless by today's standards, but it transformed my life almost instantaneously. Those other objects of affection that came in between are also somewhat hazy in my memory - I think they were mostly Nokia, though I switched to Blackberries for a while - then back to a Nokia (N95?) before seeing the light and slavishly following Apple. If I and civilization get another 15 years I wonder what kind of phone I will have then.
There's no point in keeping my phones from now on. It had to be from the start if this was going to work. And today's redundant phones still have a value at least to charity. But if I had my time again I would hold on to them all.
I probably have all the laptop computers I have ever owned still. Yes, I think I have. Maybe I'll do it with them instead.
One day this Macbook will be nailed to a plank of wood in Charles Saatchi's dining room.
