I have been invited to participate in an exhibition of artist books with the title doppio senso/ Dual meaning. We were asked to work with a book of our choice, a printed book and to with our intervention to amplify, enlarge or deconstruct the sense of the text it containes.
Thirst (Sete) di Jo Nesbo è il libro che ho scelto.
Per il modo che ho di lavorare, scegliere è in effetti un termine impreciso: le mie “scelte” sono sempre un misto di casualità e di deliberato intervento sul caso. Così è stato anche questa volta: all’invito di Simonetta mi sono guardata intorno e il libro di Nesbo, un autore che leggo quasi esclusivamente quando sono in viaggio, era lì, davanti a me. Pronto per essere “lavorato”.
In questo caso, il lavoro che ho subito immaginato era un doppio senso non come “senso sottostante” e “altro” ma come amplificazione del senso del libro.
Senza richiamare la trama del racconto, dirò solo che si tratta di un Nesbo, già di norma molto “gotico”, in piena deriva splatter, in cui ogni personaggio è portatore di una passione malata che contempla la morte come possibile via d’uscita.
Ecco, mi sono detta: farò un intervento col fuoco e con il filo. Col fuoco ho bruciato il libro in più parti, creando fori e lacerazioni , come le ossessioni portate alle loro estreme conseguenze lasciano nel racconto corpi feriti e anime devastate.
Col filo rosso il libro l’ho attraversato, “raddoppiandolo” come trama, pista di segni e, ovviamente, cucitura. Come fra i personaggi di Nesbo, che cercano inutilmente di ricucire le proprie ferite facendo esplodere le pulsioni più indicibili, i miei fili “legano” le pagine senza un ordine o un esito prestabiliti. E qualsiasi soluzione non può essere che provvisoria.
THIRST (SETE) by Jo Nesbo is the book I have chosen.
For the way I work, “to choose” is in fact an inaccurate term: my “choices” are always a mixture of randomness and deliberate intervention on the case.
So it was also this time: at the invitation of Simonetta I looked around and Nesbo’s book, an author that I read almost exclusively when I’m traveling, was there, in front of me. Ready to be “worked”.
In this case, the work I immediately imagined was a double meaning not as “underlying sense” and “other” but as an amplification of the meaning of the book.
Without recalling the plot, I will only say that it is a Nesbo, usually very “gothic”, in full drift splatter; Manipulation, violence, sick sex and “extreme” mental deviations. All in the background of a rich and environment-friendly Norway but teeming with toxic, alcoholic, marginal of all kinds. An environment in which every character of the plot is the bearer of a passion that contemplates death as possible (and sometimes inevitable) way out.
So I decided for an intervention with fire and with thread. With the fire of my fusion torch I burned the book in several parts, creating holes and lesions, as the obsessions carried to their extreme consequences leave wounded bodies and devastated souls in the story. I crossed the book with the red thread, “doubling it” as a plot, a trail of signs and, of course, a seam. As among the characters of Nesbo, who try in vain to sew up their wounds exploding the most unspeakable drives, my threads “bind” the pages without a pre-established order or an outcome of some use (and here the thought would go to the ontological uselessness of art, but this would take us too far..). The mystery of events, of each event at the end, can never be completely solved, we may arrive at temporary solutions that refer to other mysteries.
The conclusion of any investigation, even of those that lead to the affirmation of some truth in THIRST, therefore refers to new obscurities.
To other “holes” of understanding. Like those who are now in the body of a book, this book, inside the pages and in its interstices.
It must be said that the detective investigating the cases in question is called Harry HOLE (..).
So really the choice was almost obligatory.
Doris Maninger: Austrian Landscape
Text with Maurizio Alampi who transformed my ghosts into guests
The suggestions, all contained in the texts chosen to delimitate the concept of the event ‘Hostipitality’ immediately sounded familiar to me. More. It seemed to me that they concerned both my life and my work, summarising in a certain sense both of them.
The journey, the expectation and the surprise of the ‘Other’ and its diversities, the ambiguity of the relationships between those who welcome and those who are welcomed, the exercise of power, the giving and taking that are more or less constraining: these are the aspects which seem to have marked my days with more intensity, pushing me to make choices – not always conscious – both as a woman and as an artist.
What was asked of me was a reflection on my country of origin, Austria, a land I have been trying to “deal with” for many years, ever since I left at the age of twenty to move to Calabria: the South of Southern Italy, a beautiful and difficult region of migration where, in the course of another twenty years, I felt as a foreigner at first, then guest and at the end, also a little “Calabrian”, assimilating a migrant perspective (though on the contrary) that enriched and transformed me.
Austria: notoriously a strange country, that became a (small) Nation only 100 years ago,having previously been the private property of the longest and most powerful dynasty of European rulers (the Habsburgs). An empire in a certain sense “premodern” (in the Europe of nations) and, at the same time, an anticipation of all the problems of cohabitation between ethnic groups, cultures, languages, different economies under the same institutional “roof” (many consider it a sort of precedent of the current European Union). Perhaps, this being for so many centuries “guests” of a higher entity, of a monarchy whose symbol, the double-headed eagle, looked both east and west, has created in its citizens a certain indeterminacy about the rules of the house, or at least the possibility of never feeling completely responsible for it.
Hence, a country that has gone through the tragedies of the last century, with the direct involvement in the Nazi Reich, an involvement never fully assumed as a “national” responsibility, but on the contrary represented from the position and perspective of the “victim”. A country that in a world divided in two by the cold war has subsequently applied a successful model of equidistance at an international level, driven by an economic system with some moderate elements of “socialism” and has finalised the construction of a postcard-like tourist image; an image that today, after an initial (apparently) successful and serene integration in the European Union, has to deal with the imposition of a political leadership that receives its consent thanks to explicit anti-migrant messages and psychotic affirmations of a new (quite uncertain) national identity.
The installation took shape – I always work this way – starting from my favorite material: textile. More precisely, a brown knitted jacket from the 1930s, worn out, moth-eaten and full of holes, which I have mended in different colours over a long time. Inside of it is thick white cotton, to give structure and enhance the visibility of the holes. Finally, an intricate embroidery that suggests, at a close observation, landscapes, pastures, baroque bell towers, the dominant imaginary of the Austrian nation, all left in a field of indeterminacy (as undetermined its identity remains).
A dress without a body and without a head but with a structure capable of sustaining itself, which still contains the signs of past grandeur and care that generations of “guests”, halfway between subjects and citizens, have dedicated to its construction. Basically a ghost, and like most ghosts, headless.
The colours I chose are the brown of the earth and the green of the forests (which were also the colours of the first Nazi uniforms), the red of peasant clothes (and of blood), the white of innocence (and of the self-proclaimed superior “race”): all that evokes, with its load of ambiguity, the “Heimat”, this great word of German romanticism, which can express a sentiment of poignant love for one’s own land but also the selfish closure of that same land towards every supposed “invasion”. A word that refers to the nightmares of a recent past but at the same time to the nostalgia for the homeland left behind, in this sense also the word of migrants. A word, whose initial ‘H’ is legible in the intricate patterns of the embroidery, as if ready to reoccupy a larger space of the scene.
To support the “bust” on its top, like the columns in many Biedermaier houses, a dark table of an austerity only slightly softened by three legs with a lion’s paw.
A typical piece of furniture, part of the country´s history and still present in the values of a certain Catholic bourgeoisie, is performing solidity, the conviction of the superiority of its moral principles, with few concessions to decoration.
And then, under the table and the bust, is a carpet.
A rug made of socks of various origins, more or less from the same period of the jacket, repeatedly mended with infinite care, an expression not only of a necessity but also of an ethics of “conservation” (peasant, petty bourgeois, catholic). It´s a reuse of clothing between generations that speaks of the value attributed to things of use. It speaks of how the symbols of the powerful always rest on daily life, on the trust, and the devotion of the many.
The darning, stitched together and changing scale, have multiplied their visual strength and their “beauty” as I created this internal plot holding them together and I obtained an external perimeter that almost took on the form of a heart.
I like to think that it can be a metaphor of what Austria, defined in countless slogans “the heart of Europe”, certainly has been, that Austria is no longer, if not in a merely geographical sense, and that Austria might return to being it, if finally it would confront itself with this past (even with its “honorable” parts).
Because I think it is inevitable that the carpet will remember the images that most of all Austria would like to remove from memory (its own and that of others), that of the heaps of objects belonging to deportees in concentration camps, perhaps the most indelible image of the Nazi nightmare .
But the carpet is also the landscape trampled by many feet, the feet of the countless individuals who have crossed it over the centuries, different in culture, languages, religion, who with their lives have left an important legacy to modernity: the dream of the possibility of accepting unity in diversity, of living together and managing to make of difference an inestimable wealth.
This is a “legacy” that has fascinated artists and intellectuals alike and which does not register the same interest in contemporary political elites (starting with the Austrian ones).
To complete, in the strict sense of the term, Austrian Landscapes, there is a thoughtful woman in porcelain, standing as a unit of measurement of “everything” that I tried to express. An observer inside the installation but also, visibly, outside of it, sitting on the only piece of cloth that is not a sock but a “grip” from the kitchen. A glove – very old and “used” too – which serves to protect your hands from burning, a carpet in the carpet that isolates her from all the rest, a small area, a bit like a sacred home.
I would like that the woman, beyond any possible reading, could turn out to be the three-dimensional epitome of the concept and of the questions I wanted to make “visible”: can one be without history by having a long history? Can one remain without a true idea of the future by having such a heavy past?
A feminine look at the world, capable of going beyond apparent differences and not projecting one’s own desires and fears onto others, could help to indicate new paths of thought and action?
A nation whose key to success has historically been “marriage diplomacy” (Tu felix Austria nube *), should be particularly sensitive to the topic.
S A V V Y Contemporary
The Laboratory of Form-Ideas
O P E N I N G 18.05.2018 19:00
E X H I B I T I O N 19.05. – 24.06.2018
W I T H Abbas Akhavan, Meriç Algün, Mounira Al Solh, Steeve Bauras, Deanna Bowen, Banu Cennetoğlu, Stephanie Comilang, Victor Ehikhamenor, Antje Engelmann, Louis Henderson, Eva Leitolf, Doris Maninger, Sabelo Mlangeni, Emeka Okereke, Neda Saeedi, Wolfgang Tillmans, Ming Wong, Tinofireyi Zhou
O P E N Thu–Sun 14:00–19:00
E N T R A N C E Plantagenstraße 31, 13347 Berlin
I N V O C A T I O N S 08.06. – 10.06.2018
W I T H Ulf Aminde, Mohamed Amjahid, Nacera Belaza, Seloua Luste Boulbina, Joshua Chambers-Letson, Jacques Coursil, Denise Ferreira da Silva, Heidrun Friese, Marque Gilmore, Niklas Maak, Lionel Manga, Negros Tou Moria, Peter Morin, Robert Nichols, Kettly Noël, Lerato Shadi, Nahed Samour, Farkhondeh Shahrouhdi, Safiya Sinclair, Aaron Wilson, among others
E N T R A N C E Gerichtstraße 35, 13347 Berlin
A B O U T WHOSE LAND HAVE I LIT ON NOW? Contemplations on the Notions of Hostipitality unfolds through an exhibition, performances, lectures, film screenings and other time-based experiences to deliberate on concepts of hospitality and the triggers of hostility in hospitality.
In an age of flourishing resentments and antipathy towards all that seems conceptually or physically “strange”/a “stranger,” in a time when the historical violence of the guest (as colonizer) over the host is reiterated and fortified, and in an era that increasingly turns hospitality into a neoliberal commodity, it becomes urgent to reconsider hospitality’s gradients of power. While departing from the national context of Germany, and taking Derrida’s notion of “hostipitality” as a point of commencement, the project is not limited in geography, history, philosophy nor culture to these origins, but rather addresses concepts of hospitality in a global context.
A S A V V Y Contemporary project in the framework of the Creative Europe program 4Cs: From Conflict to Conviviality through Creativity and Culture. In Collaboration with Or Gallery in Vancouver.
4Cs was developed amongst the following partners: Faculdade de Ciências Humanas Universidade Católica Portuguesa FCH|UCP (PT), Tensta Konsthall (SE), SAVVY Contemporary (DE), Royal College of Art (UK), Fundació Antoni Tàpies (ES), Vilnius Academy of Arts (LT), Museet for Samtidskunst (DK) and ENSAD (FR).
S A V V Y Contemporary Plantagenstraße 31, 13347
F U R T H E R D E T A I L S savvy-contemporary.com
as always I am way behind in talking about my ‘activities’ writing posts and commenting. But then why do I actually do it, can anybody be interested in what I do, what I think, the photos I take. Why put it on a blog, on instagram, on Facebook. Once in a while I get this urge to go into the unknown world of the web, and then I start looking at how many people see what I post, do I get likes and why and why she/he gets more. A mystery or maybe just some unknown algorithm. In any case here I am again, maybe just because sleeping becomes more and more difficult and so instead of turning around why not do this?
travelling South means Egypt, travelling South is exotic but also familiar, travelling South means new images for my mental and not only mental archive. There is this wonderful book, I think the last one of John Berger its called Confabulations. I just found it by chance travelling South, thought it was an old one but then I noticed no, its from 2016 so just before he died. I dont know who left the book there for me to find, it was ‘begriffen’ not sure if this German word is actually the right one but it is the only one that describes how the book was: Begriffen – means it was touched you could see the marks of hands on it, begriffen also means understood. Wonder of the German language: begreifen : to understand, understand because your hands have touched – your hands that know much more than your brain and only by touching you really get into things.
In the South you touch a lot, a lot more than in the North. Northern touching is almost no touching, its seemingly a touch but then its like embracing air or maybe better a shadow. Shadow smiles and shadow kindness but maybe its just because I was there in Winter, in the dark season, maybe Summer is totally different – would make sense even according to the theory of ? and now I lost another word science of heat – no its not this, thats not scientific but maybe somebody knows what I mean. Warmth/heat (terapia del Calore) makes particles move and expand in absence of heat everything stops. When everything stops there is no friction, so again no heat, no thinking – ever thought of the fact that when we think we produce heat, as the computer in my lab does right now ( thinking for me and correcting my errors)
beautiful also there, a bit scary at times, a bit lonely, the desert is lonely and also scary but it has a totally different feeling to the loneliness, for me it is a healthy one. One that makes me look to the sky with awe, with wonder with a sense of ‘I can never get enough of this’ the Northern loneliness is cold (of course it is cold) it makes you want to hide, get into a dark warm hole, womb of your mother, wants a soft touch on your skin, warm breath on your cheek, cuddling, sleeping, dreaming of sun.
this difference of light does it all and effects everything our thoughts, our ways of living, how we eat, how we feel, how we socialise, how we make art how we not make art
So of course my 2 workshops with the same theme : A ring for the past, a ring for the present, a ring for the future had very different outcomes in Cairo and in Kolding, Egypt and Denmark.