Finally I found the best word to replace the overused minimal. It is indeterminacy; indeterminate aesthetics. The most magnetic kind of minimalism. Without doubt, it is an expression of contemporary loss and confusion - and probably this is the key feeling to understand the modern art at all.
I’ve discovered it after finishing a book written by professor Bauman, who once more drove my attention on fragmentation and atomisation of the society we live in; it’s hard to find such piercing model of individuality anytime in the past.
So is aesthetics; fragmented and potentially incomplete (in a semantic way), unsigned, indefinite and indeterminate, means to me nothing more than a travel to the depths of my own mind (but it isn’t always a positive experience).
The minimalism itself induces solitude; when I touch it, I think about something related to Hobbes - because the solitude, the individuality understood as being an individual, creates a framework for our world, and at the same time, it’s closing the possibility of getting out. The escape becomes an impossibility. When I touch this solitude, I know that everything what I have from now is multiplexing (to infinity) space.
But there is no answer for a question about filling this space. Not at all.