In the early 1990s, something strange happened at a New York art gallery. Thai artist Rirkrit Tiravanija completely emptied the gallery space. He set up a stove in the corner and began cooking Pad Thai for visitors. For free. No paintings to sell, no sculptures to display. The next day, the gallery was empty again, nothing remained.

So, was this art?

Can Cooking Be Art?

Tiravanija's work revolutionized the art world. Because there was no "work" in the classical sense. There was no object to purchase. But the experience visitors had that evening, the meal they shared, the conversations they had - were these any less valuable than an artwork?

French curator Nicolas Bourriaud called this type of work "relational aesthetics." According to him, art is now more about creating relationships between people than producing objects. While a painting hangs in a frame, Tiravanija's meal brought people together, made them talk, made them share.

German artist Joseph Beuys said years ago, "Everyone is an artist." Perhaps this is what he meant: Creativity isn't just about hanging paintings on gallery walls. Shaping social relationships is also a form of art.

The Never-Ending Manifesto

In 1998, designer Bruce Mau published his famous text "An Incomplete Manifesto for Growth." Notice the contradiction in the title: How can a manifesto be incomplete?

Mau's answer is sharp: "Completeness is death."

When you consider an artwork "finished" and frame it, you freeze it, you separate it from life. True creativity, however, is alive, it evolves, it changes. One of the items in Mau's manifesto states: "Remember, failure also advances your career. Self-satisfaction in the face of failure is the real failure."

This thinking aligns with the "happening" movement of the 1960s. Happening artists created pre-planned but uncontrollable events. Each performance was different, unrepeatable. Once the work was performed, it disappeared - just like life itself.

American composer John Cage brought this understanding to music. In his famous work "4'33"", the pianist plays no notes for three movements. The music consists of coughs in the hall, traffic sounds, the audience's restless movements. Cage's question is simple but unsettling: Isn't silence music?

The Work Created by the Viewer

In 1962, Italian writer and thinker Umberto Eco published an important text called "The Open Work." According to Eco, every work of art is inherently "open" - meaning its meaning cannot be fixed, it is completed through the viewer's interpretation.

Think about it: Is the Mona Lisa's smile in the painting, or in the minds of millions who see it? Each gaze creates a different Mona Lisa. This is what Eco means: A work of art is not just what the artist creates, but the relationship the viewer establishes with it.

This perspective moves art from object to relationship. When you write a novel, does your work end as soon as the book is printed? No. The work is recreated in each reader's mind, taking on different meanings.

Digital art has taken this openness to its peak. A work created by an algorithm is different each time it runs. An interactive installation is shaped by the visitor's touch. We now ask: Where does the work end and where does the experience begin?

The Disappearing Object in the Digital Age

In 2021, digital artist Beeple's NFT sold for $69 million at Christie's. What did the buyer purchase? Not a painting they could hold, but a digital file recorded on the blockchain. In other words... code. But worth $69 million.

This event is actually the result of a long process. In the 1960s, conceptual artists said "The idea is the work itself." In the 1970s, performance art replaced the permanent object with the moment. In the 1990s, figures like Tiravanija turned social relationships into art. And now in the 2020s, with NFTs, art has completely dematerialized.

Perhaps art was never really about "things." It was always about experience, meaning, relationship, and transformation. Even the magnificent paintings of the Renaissance were actually tools: to connect with the divine, to convey history, to experience beauty.

Today, these tools are losing their material form. And this is not a loss, but perhaps a liberation.

The Power of Emptiness

Ancient Chinese philosopher Lao Tzu says: "Clay is shaped into a pot, but it is the emptiness inside that makes it useful."

Creating without objects is not rejecting art. On the contrary, it is returning to the essence of art. Creativity is not a product but a process. The meaning of art lies not in the object but in the relationship.

Tiravanija's stove, Cage's silence, Eco's open works - they all point to the same truth: The deepest art experiences sometimes leave no object behind. Only a moment, a feeling, a transformation.

Perhaps the most radical artwork is one that never exists but is felt everywhere. A work that echoes in emptiness, is shared, is lived, transforms.

A work created without objects.

This article is a study on post-object creativity in contemporary art practices. It has been prepared to contribute to the artistic discourse in the field of art by the Turkish digital art platform COLLECIST.