siniša ilić

Our Forest - drawings

2011-12-15T21:45:00.005+01:00

sinisa ilic, drawings, felt tip pens, 2011

Our Forest

2011-10-14T17:00:00.003+02:00

scroll down for text and more images

with Tina Gverovic and wood installation by Ben Cain, Life in the Forest, curator Rael Artel, Arsenal Gallery, Bialystok, Poland, 2011.

Precarious Conversation

Conversation between Tina Gverović, Siniša Ilićand Ben Cain in preparation for work for the exhibition Life in the Forest.

Ben Cain:

While I’m here taking on the role ofinterviewer, I’m also collaborating with SinišaIlić and Tina Gverović on the work for the Life in theForestexhibition for which this interview has been commissioned. On previousoccasions when we’ve worked together my role has always been one of part-timecollaborator, meaning that I’ve stepped in temporarily to design books orproduce exhibition design for them. Whether creating 2D or 3D platforms, therole always involves constructing frames for dialogue, open structures - or a‘work-space’ in the case of their recent exhibition Uncomparables. Forming aSuspicious State,at Nova Gallery in Zagreb - which Tina and Siniša can then use as they see fit. Similarly, thisinterview is being considered as a forum, as a place where we can discussforthcoming work, and as such the interview is itself work-in-progress.

I think thatthe best way to begin would be for me to ask a few initial questions which areaddressed to both of you, and then for us to try to develop something of aconversation once you’ve replied.

While insome cases it’s not possible, nor is it necessary (and I know you never make apoint of indicating any sort of division of labour), to distinguish eachartist’s individual contribution, in places it is clear that each of yourespond quite differently to the same themes. For example Siniša’s drawings often present dramaticoutbursts of violence which might ordinarily be experienced via screens orprint media, and this might be presented alongside visions of organizedimmaterial labour, silent micro-factories whose seemingly ineffectual role isrelated to the culture industry’s own version of immaterial labour whereacademic ‘doing’ of politics is to be found in stagnant scenes where AppleMac’s glare and passivity abounds. Whereas in some of Tina’s work the‘disaster’ is the very fact that in the light of constant emergency, affectiveaction seems impossible. However here the devastation that comes with thatrealisation is offset with representations of micro-movements that suggest avery furtive form of agency which understands that impacting upon ones immediateenvironment is first and foremost all about deciding to do so, i.e. picking upa pencil, a hammer, a brush…

And so thequestion – and I’m assuming that you might answer for each other - is to askyou about the differences between making your own work (which you both continueto do) and making collaborative work – how do you approach each process?

TinaGverović:

My approachto making collaborative work is rather similar to when I am working on my owninstallations, which are always comprised of elements produced in variousmedia. The space of the work is considered as a scene where visitors areinvolved in the process of ‘reading’ and ‘navigating’ through different works.When working on collaborative projects there is less of an overview of the finaloutcome, which allows a different level of flexibility. This flexibility oftenmeans that the initial idea constantly questions itself and ends up beingsomething quite different from that which was initially thought of.

SinišaIlić:

Iagree with Tina that collaborative work is rather similar to when I am workingon my own. I start from some problem, observation, image, text, do research andstart realization. What I likeabout collaboration is the dynamic of conversation and exchange of conceptnotes and common interests. Showing your work to someone while it is stillfragile and in-progress makes me both more articulate and more vulnerable. Ifind the collaborative process a constitutive part of my artistic practice. Theprocess of shaping and molding the methodology of work and communication, thereorganization of hierarchies, forms or phases which can oscillate from strictand defined to open and/or friendship-based is what keeps me active, attentiveand critical.

BC:

Havingearlier mentioned labour, passivity and agency, I also wanted to ask whetheryou could say something about the ‘politics’ of the work. Is politics aninappropriate term here?

TG:

I find itvery difficult in the contemporary art world to come across works which selfconsciously address ‘politics’ without them being very direct, even didactic,following a particular pre-established pattern. Although most works of art canbe seen as being political, the question is more about what kind of politics comeinto question in any particular work, or, what is it that makes that workpolitical apart from it simply being involved with obviously political topicsand themes. The complex internal politics of the work is perhaps a moreinteresting area to explore than the political situation that that the workmight be commenting upon.

The workthat I produced over the last couple of years doesn’t aim to conclude orfinalise ideas but rather to open up the process of making and defining. Sowith avoiding definitions and conclusion the work escapes being related to anyparticular category of art, which I suppose can be seen as a political act.

SI:

Ben, why didyou ask if politics is an inappropriate term here?

BC:

Obviouslythe work is ‘political’ -its such a broad term that it can easily ‘catch-all’-it’s immediately clear that it’s about combinations of agency and inertia. Inbringing this up, I just wanted to provoke a response to the idea that politics is notalways where you expect to find it – which is something that you both mention.

SI:

Yes, thetopics we already mentioned at the beginning of this conversation: division oflabour, collaborations, artistic positions, renaming positions, or frames fordialogue as you put it, I see as spaces for political, lets say, intervention,through trying to reorganise the ’rules’, and power relations within thosetopics.

In relationto the drawings that Ben described above, I realized that my environment, veryoften consists of people, young, old, children, art workers, singles… in frontof computer screens. That image was so strong while their ‘politics’ and‘agendas’ were so hidden. It was impossible to discern or represent what theyare actually doing. I am sure you participated in so many similar occasions,and you can never be sure if the person is: reading his/her text drafts,adjusting images for portfolio, surfing, skype-ing, X or youtube, instructingrevolutions or riots via social networks, or just being bored… It suddenlybecame a mystery for me.

And on thebanality we mentioned. Maybe it is because of a certain period in my life, thecontext I am in, but things seem banal. I cannot escape that impression. So inmy work I am trying to move the focus away from representations of those main,lets say banal, events by drawing attention to their consequences, i.e. themarginal, secondary realities that we could, or often are in fact a partof.

BC:

And toexpand upon the last question, the last three exhibitions have includedrepeating motifs such as post-catastrophe landscape, and have all dealt inslightly different ways with states of emergency andthe idea of a type of incessant, barely-tangible disaster. What is it thatpromotes an interest in these themes? Can this disaster be located, and is itsomething that impacts upon yourselves directly?

SI:

Dealing withmotifs of post-catastrophe landscape in recent works is an attempt to work withdifferent ways and concepts of visual representation of catastrophes.Catastrophes as such, especially as visual templates, are the perfect site forthe manipulation of subjects within the society of images that we are currentlywitnessing.

In thissense in the case of Precarious Adaptations we reorganized familiaror stereotypical images and linear narratives and abandoned representationalstrategies and patterns such as sensationalism, sublimity, monumentality,epics...

TG:

These topicsmay be closely related to both of our recent histories or rather the historiesof our countries, which is something that inevitably influences our practice.Although, the ‘disaster’ that emerges in my work is ‘disaster’ as a state, notas a particular event which is geopolitically locatable. Disaster and Emergencyseem to be states that we find ourselves inhabiting on social, personal andemotional levels regardless of the specific geographical location. The issuesthat we plan to deal with in Life in the Forest evolve out of theconcerns of our recent work, i.e. issues related to confusion, entrapment anddensity, which we feel are relevant and pressing issues that surround us on adaily basis. We feel that in this contemporary moment, directed towardsclassifications, definitions and precision-based bureaucracy, formed on exact,confident facts, it is the right moment to deal with micro-identity rebellion,to irritate conventions and to rearticulate our own positions.

BC:

I think theidea of density is really interesting here. Density is a term that I’veconsidered in the process of developing a platform for the work in Life inthe Forest.Iwonder if it might be useful to try to be more specific about what you have inmind when you say ‘density’? Of course ‘density’ is used to describe a physicalcharacteristic, and when we think of being surrounded by an environment whichis ‘dense’, it’s a very physical experience of space (swimming, being buried insand, air in which particles are very close together and so produce heat,tension, friction…?), which is perhaps interesting because your work oftendepicts or at least refers to immateriality, and work who’s outcome isunfathomable or illusive. There are a couple of questions here… One might beabout the degree to which you want to make an explicit reference to theso-called omnipresent spirit of late capitalism? The other question is aboutwhether you have any strong ideas as to how the platform/structure/set for thework ought to engage with ‘density’?

TG:

As withprevious installations the set, as a place, or as a representation of a place,is very un-locatable and difficult to place. With the installation Uncomparables we had a structure thatreminded of a post office waiting room, with an emphasis on the difficulty offinding privacy, being apart, separated, of the inefficiency of such places. PrecariousAdaptationshad a wall structure that took over the gallery space mimicking rocks orcliffs, creating niches and separations. In one way the space always shrunk butin another it became movable, alive with extra space appearing behind everycorner. So, yes, we can talk about density as a disorientating physicalexperience, which is also the plan for Life in the Forest where we’re arethinking about creating a structure in the form of a maze, always leadingsomewhere and yet with no clear exit or entrance points.

As such, theabove mentioned experiences can be attribute to late capitalisms’disorganization and confusion, endless waiting rooms and bureaucratic wallshowever there is no intention to depict these places but rather to focus on thestates that are the products of such a society.

SI:

Right, butwhile reading the questions and reactions above over again, I think of densityalso as an unbearable structure of obstacles, demands, standards, and trapsthat characterize what at first glance seems to be a messy space, but laterreveals itself to be the extremely strict and exclusive atmosphere of latecapitalism. Density as set of various tricky rules presented to us as the onlyway to survive in contemporary societies.

August 2011.

pismo heineru mulleru

2011-10-08T13:52:00.002+02:00

vise / see more: pismo heineru mulleru / letter to heiner muller

Razgovor kao izvedba

Objavljujemo uređeni deo transkript razgovora vođenih za vrijeme rada i priprema predstave unazad nekoliko mjeseci. Razgovor je vođen na različitim lokacijama, u različitim oblicima i medijima. Uredili smo dijelove razgovora usmjerene na praćenje i razumijevanje određenih segmenata ove predstave, njenog procesa nastajanja, pozicija umjetnica i umjetnika uključenih u njenu realizaciju.

1: Izvedbeni tekst Pismo Heineru M. je koncipiran kao niz situacija koje opisuju iritirajuće polje egzistencije subjekta koji ih ne pristaje ignorirati, već pokušava pronaći način da s njima ostvari svojevrsni oblik igre. Ne ignorirati – u ovom slučaju znači iskoristiti uvjetovanosti sustava za oblik parazitskog izvođenja. Sustav, prostor zračne luke, postaje javni prostor namijenjen izvedbenom činu.

2: Izvođač prati neka uputstva, čita ih, nebitno je izvršava li ih, i zna kada se otvara mogućnost za njegovu ili njenu osobnu, autorsku intervenciju u javnom prostoru.

1: Veliki deo teksta posvećen je pripremama izvođača za “veliki događaj” koji se zbiva na kraju. Čitatelj ili čitateljica stječu dojam da je u pitanju spremanje za pljačku banke, teroristički čin ili nešto slično. Ono što na kraju izvođač radi je govor u visoko kontroliranom i nadgledanom prostoru berlinskog aerodoroma Tegel, ništa više od toga. Pozicioniranje u sferi javnog i osvajanje javnog prostora.

3: Da, ali danas je intervencija u javni prostor skoro nemoguća misija: ili je čin visokog rizika ili prolazi neprimjećeno.

1: Ne. Rekao bih da sadržaj teksta sam po sebi ne nosi onu subverzivnost na koju su nas upozoravali kao opasnu. Narativ je jednostavan. Muškarac odluči povratak u vlastitu zemlju iskoristiti kao mogućnost za izvedbu – ili točnije, odluči na vlastiti povratak gledati kao na izvedbu. Ključan je taj prijelom, to puknuće u kojem nešto što je do određenog trenutka bio samo povratak, postaje izvedba. To što ti nazivaš osobnom intervencijom postaje javnom izvedbom. Pri tome ne postoji bitna razlika između intervencije i izvedbe: važna je samo percepcija kojom subjekt sebe smješta u neki sustav.

4: Da. Uputstva ne moraju biti doslovno čitana, može im se pristupiti i kao zavodljivoj fikciji koja na kraju završava dvotočkom nakon koje slijedi preokret iz fikcijskog “Ti” u performersko “Ja”, u izabranoj formi, bilo da se radi o eseju, manifestu, plesu, sms-u…

1: Da. Količina izvedbenog koja je upisana u svakodnevicu neodrediva je. Socijalni mehanizmi demokracija u kojima živimo ignoriranjem izvedbenog održavaju kontrolu različitih aspekata socijalne dramaturgije ili bolje rečeno diktaturgije. Unutar nekog sistema jasno je što je dozvoljeno a što nije. Učinilo mi se da ispisivanjem dramaturgije jednog putovanja, navedena kontrola postaje u jednom trenutku očigledna i izmiče uređenom sistemu pritiska koju vrše demokracije. Trenutak propasti kontrole javnog prostora upravo je u materijalnom ostatku kontrole.

4: Nisam siguran da razumijem što bi bio materijalni ostatak kontrole.

1: Ne znam što to točno znači. Ne znam kako sam uopće došao na ideju da bi kontrola javnog prostora mogla na bilo koji način propasti.

2: Jesmo li mi sada nadzirani?

1: Ne znam. Jesmo li nadzirani?

3: Ove razgovore sve vrijeme snimamo diktafonom. Nije li to neka vrsta nadzora?

4: Mislim da nije.

2: Mislim da jest.

4: Nikad nećemo biti u potpunosti sigurni. Nego, htio bih podsjetiti da je na pripremu ili čin terorizma moguće gledati kao na rad tijelom: tijelom terorista koji se raznosi, tijelom otetih talaca, tijelom mete napada koje se uništava, javnim, zbirnim tijelom promatrača za čije se pažnju izvodi teroristički čin, ali i koje svojim prisustvom/svjedočenjem i sudjeluje u njemu. U slučaju ovog komada cijeli kvazi-teroristički čin usmjeren je na tijelo: na njegovu poslušnost, na tijelo kao materijal, na tijelo u akciji, tijelo koje trpi i telo koje izvodi radnju, ali i na voajersko promatranje, komentiranje i interakciju s tijelima koja okružuju tijelo koje govori, što također predstavlja oblik subverzije društvenog birokratskog, heteronormativnog i svih drugih poredaka. S druge strane, kroz svoju monološku formu, neobuzdanu bujicu riječi, naredbi, mitoloških i drugih brojnih referenci, Pismo Heineru M. kao izvedbeni tekst jest i atak na i prepreka izvođačkom, glumčevom tijelu, u krajnje materijalnom i organskom smislu. Njegova političnost ne iscrpljuje se samo u temi, već i u formi koja je kritički orijentirana prema tradicionalnoj reprezentaciji i dramskom pismu.

2: Tekst započinje imenicom Rekonstrukcija. Čini mi se da to u bitnome određuje odnos glumca prema tekstu i gledatelja prema onome što glumac izvodi.

1: Glumac je u poziciji izvođača koji izvodi rekonstrukciju, i to je jedino njegovo svojstvo. Svako inzistiranje na dodatnom pokušaju definiranja i karakteriziranja, nepotrebno je. Ako je to ipak nužno, slijedi: On je bijelac u tridesetima, dovoljno osviješten da se u granicama političke slike svijeta osjeća inferiornim. On inzistira na poziciji onoga koji ostaje neprimjetan, a političku uvjetovanost sustava koristi kao bazu za moguću izvedbu. Istovremeno, on u izvedbu kreće svjestan vlastitog subjekta koji traži mjesto u rekonstrukciji izvedbeno-političke slike svijeta. Sa svime onome što posjeduje. I svime onime što bi u interakciji s drugim izvođačima mogao ostvariti.

4: U ovoj predstavi ta interakcija, komunikacija između publike i izvođača se odvija kroz niz zadataka – oni su podjednako zahtjevni i za jedne i za druge.

1: Glumci su uvijek izloženi komunikaciji. Ono što izvedbene odnose u ovom projektu možda čini kompleksnim su instrukcije u drugom licu jedine, u kojem taj imperativ “izvedi” s pisca prelazi na redatelja, s redatelja na glumca, s glumca na gledatelja… a da se istovremeno i neprestano govori i opisuje neka druga izvedba, neka druga situacija u nekom drugom prostoru. Interesira me u kojem se prostoru događa ova inscenacija?

2: Pa, u prostoru dvorane Polanec? Govoriš o scenskom prostoru? O sivoj kocki koju sve vrijeme gledamo na sceni? Kocka je ne-prostor, vakuum bez dimenzije, blok u pomračini, hologram nekog drugog mesta. Prateći sam narativ teksta, kocka je vrijeme u kojem nismo u javnom prostoru, niko nas ne vidi, ne prati, ništa nas ne reprezentira. Riječ je jednoj nasukanoj kocki u dvorani o kojoj ne znamo ništa više od toga da je određivanjem njenih vanjskih rubova i dimenzja glumci pretvaraju u četvrtog izvođača.

3: U tekstu se pojavljuje tema kôdiranosti prostora, ideje da omeđeni, označeni prostori imaju svoja "pravila ponašanja", svoju "socijalnu koreografiju", nadzor, kontrolu, disciplinske mjere za nepoštivanje te koreografije. Umjesto “rušenjem konvencija” – neposlušnosti, subverzije, negativnog odnosa prema kôdu prostora - možemo se pozabaviti drugim pristupom, praksom ili gestom ukazivanja na kontingentnost samog kôda/prostora, na njegovu krhkost, privremenost, šupljikavost. Prostor, kao omeđeni, kôdirani prostor, obično počiva, rekao bih, na nekoj iluziji zaokruženosti, nužnosti, ispunjenosti: mi se obično krećemo kroz prostor i podčinjavamo mu se “prirodno” i lagodno, bez prisile, do te mjere da ga i ne vidimo kao poseban, omeđen prostor, nego kao čitav svijet.

1: Prirodno i lagodno podčinjavanje javnom prosoru postaje kompleksnije, i rekao bih, teže, u trenutku kad se osvijeste kôdovi konvencije nekog prostora. Bilo da se radi o aerodromskoj čekaonici ili kazališnoj dvorani. Kazalište sažima i vlastitu i konvenciju svih drugih prostora.

2: Slažem se. Razmišljam o ovom scenskom prostoru kao nekoj vrsti hiper-prostora, jedan prostor koji je svi prostori, od kojih je samo jedan kazališni – onaj koji podržava i održava fikciju izvedbe. Taj prostor se minimalnim zahvatima (samo scenskim elementima, tekstom i pokretom) ili bez njih, konstantno ruši i obnavlja… To je neki rasuti i rastureni prostor koji ispod tek naizgled vanjske čvrste strukture, iznutra propada kao i kapitalizam… Kazališni prostor koji se trusi u svom materijalizmu, konvenciji i neuspjelim pokušajima oponašanja.

1: U slučaju ove predstave čini mi se da si kockom kreirao prostor koji afirmira taj kôd sceničnosti izvedbenog prostora, ali ga ta scena unutar scene istovremeno i poništava.

2: Siva kocka podsjeća na scenu, ali se ne koristi kao scena, niti je tako mišljena… Ona je strani objekt, oko nje se događa izvedba, ona organizira izvedbu oko sebe, i oformljuje prostor za neku vlastitu izvedbu.

1: S druge strane, na crnoj tabli trebao je biti otisnut shematski prikaz izvedbe, proces akumuliranja materijala, smjernice za moguće čitanje izvedbe. Na kraju, ostala je samo crna tabla. Projicira li ta tabula rasa svojom prazninom očišćeni prostor za scensku imaginaciju koja mi se čini bitnom u odnosu prema vrsti teksta koji glumci izgovaraju? Označuje li tabla prostor koji više nije samo scenski? Ili sam otišao predaleko?

2: Tabla je i dalje scenski element, pa na sceni je, nije li? Prva zamisao bila je otisnuti na nju bilješke s proba. Zatim sam pomislio da bi umjesto bilješki mogli otisnuti shematski prikaz izvedbe, pa zatim tlocrt same dvorane. Otišli smo dalje, prema ideji da preko table izvođači ili publika kontroliraju

izvedbu. Na kraju je tabla ostala crna, bez sadržaja… odustali smo od artikulirane smjernice, crna tabla na sceni upućuje pažnju na drugo mesto. Možda je praznina table idealno mjesto za ovaj razgovor?

1: Pojam kontrole i njena primjenjivost čine mi se zanimljivim u dvije potpuno različite situacije, u izvedbi na aerodormu i u rekonstrukciji te izvedbe u kazalištu.

4: Institucionalno kazalište je po pitanju kontrole vrlo piramidalno organiziran sustav. Rad na kazališnoj predstavi uvijek preslikava neku socijalnu mikro situaciju čime preuzima i nesvjesno aktivira i postupak kontrole.

2: Možda kontrola počinje već odabirom izvođača.

4: Možda. Ovisi kako biraš suradnike i kako pristupaš procesu. Ja pokušavam organizirati proces kao rad autorskog tima jednakopravnih suradnika od kojih svaki svaki sa svoje pozicije pridonose razvoju koncepta. U kreativnoj sferi to za sada i funkcionira. Međutim, kad se ista shema pokuša primijeniti i na raspodijelu honorara, teško je utjecati na vrlo hijerarhijski organiziran cjenik prema kojem institucija određuje koliki honorar odgovara kojem poslu.

2: Kao redatelj na suradnju u projektima pozivaš aktivne i suverene aktere različitih umjetničkih disciplina. Zanima me kako redatelj kontrolira tako nehijerarhijski postavljene sheme u institucijama koje su mahom hijerahijski organizirane i teatarskom radu koje po nekom nepisanom pravilu također pretpostavlja takav princip?

4: Ponudim početnu koncepciju, projekt u kojem će radovi drugih uz moj rad stvoriti neku novu situaciju, novo znanje. Meni je ideal da suradnici na sceni, kostimu, zvuku, pokretu samostalno donose odluke u okviru svojih pojedinačnih disciplina. U takvom sustavu se uvijek spontano uspostavi samo-regulativa. Ne kontroliram proces drugačije osim inzistiranjem na podijeli kazališnih obaveza kao podjeli odgovornosti, ne ingerencija ili ekspertize. Takav sustav potencijalno jest problem za instituciju jer u svom birokratiziranom pristupu produkciji često nije u stanju prepoznati važnost izmjena procedura rada. Više nema smisla govoriti o političnosti sadržaja i forme bez političnosti procedura rada. Ali tu se ne treba zanositi: idealna situacija ne postoji. Institucionalno kazalište je velika birokratska i administrativna ustanova u kojoj se mora raditi, i koja se postepeno sama mora podučavati i menjati. Zadatak umjetnika je da svakim projektom ukradu još mjesta administraciji i birokraciji i daju ga umjetnosti.

2: Doprinos takvoj strategiji jeste i ovaj razgovor na mjestu teksta u katalogu. Govorim o velikom prostoru otvorenom da se čuje glas autora i autorica uključenih u procese rada. Dogovor ili odluka da se konvencija postavljena kao redateljsko kazalište demistificira i otkrije i da se rad prikaže kao radni proces kompleksan i slojevit kao i svaki drugi.

4: Tako je.

2: Ne čini li vam se da je ovaj razgovor previše didaktičan, i da kod publike možda potiče otpor?

4: Ja podržavam ideju ovakvog razgovora. Ovo je naše pismo upućeno publici. U njemu ne treba inzistirati na tumačenju onoga što smo napravili, već dijeliti s publikom teme koje su i nas interesirale u procesu rada. Kazalište je mjesto dijaloga. Jedan dio tog dijaloga ima čvršću strukturu – to je predstava. Drugi dio je mnogo veći i sveobuhvatniji i podrazumijeva i ovakvo pismo publici. Dobro je da smo odustali od ideje da ovo bude otisnuto na tabli. Nemoguće je čitati ovoliko teksta i u isto vreme pratiti predstavu. Onda bismo u svrhu pojednostavljenja morali reducirati ili jedno ili drugo. Ovako predstava funkcionira u javnom vremenu i prostoru, a pismo u privatnom. Mogu i jedno bez drugoga, ali upućuju i pozivaju jedno ka drugom.

Pismo Heiner Muelleru

Selma Banich, Goran Bogdan, Bojan Đorđev, Goran Ferčec, Siniša Ilić, Nina Levkov, Danijel Ljuboja, Frano Mašković

Zagrebačko kazalište mladih

premijera: 09. 10. 2011.

reprize: 11, 12, 27 i 28. 10.

2011-09-23T19:24:00.001+02:00

Wall painting, Kunstforum, Regensburg, 2011.

Working Hours I

2011-08-14T18:22:00.004+02:00

Drawings, felt tip pens, A4 format, 2010

2012

2011-08-14T17:51:00.003+02:00

2 Drawings, felt tip pens on paper, 2009, 1,20 x 5m, Zvono Gallery, Belgrade

Day II / Sledeci dan

2011-08-13T19:03:00.001+02:00

THE BLACK BOX / CRNA KUTIJA

2011-06-16T13:39:00.025+02:00

text/tekst VOX BOX by Jelena Novak

scroll down for version in serbian, more images and complete credits / verzija na srpskom, fotografije i popis saradnika niže

INTRO CLIP

The black box is the zero degree of staging—tréteau nu—an empty space that craves performance—the meeting of various kinds of stage texts: images, sounds, performances, narratives. According to the concept of Displacement, it becomes an ideal physical site of cooperation, a medium whereby geographically remote materials and artists may meet by way of Internet streaming, a place to study the formal relations between stage texts that define, rearticulate, and confront each other.

The black box of theatre also represents traditional theatre as that safe place where one may observe the unfolding of other people’s destinies as if through a keyhole—without interaction. The place where ignoramuses are invited to see people suffering (Plato)[1]. But what happens when one disturbs that safe place? What happens when that place is staged, bugged, performed? What happens if the gaze is offered panic and paranoia, instead of the safe excitement of voyeurism? If the spectator’s ear is served wired thoughts that cause fear? The boxed figure elopes and evades our gaze, hides in the multitude, in the public, collective, and anonymous body. The everyday street social choreography—of walking, waiting, sitting, protesting—morphs into drama, hides an intruder, stranger, terrorist, danger.

To pinpoint the intruder in the image. In the image of the public or in the public as an image.

In this case, the black stage box is also a form of public space that stages public space. Using the pedestrian, untrained bodies of actors to perform everyday social choreography in unspectacular situations becomes an object of fear when it is re-signified with a series of five short monologues—typical products of the early-twenty-first-century society of fear and surveillance. What is actually performed is the contingency that every encounter with public space causes fear. The fear of a potential disaster or hardship serves to veil the state of permanent disaster or hardship. An ongoing explosion.

Black box also designates the device used to establish the causes of plane crashes. It contains all that occurred prior to the explosion.

S.I. & B.DJ.

* Authors: Siniša Ilić & Bojan Đorđev / Performance text: Goran Ferčec / Actor: Paul Leonard Murray / Sound: Nina Levkov (Marjan Srdić, Nebojša Vukelić, Mane Žuđelović) / Performers: Čarni Đerić, Ivan Acović, Bojan Đorđev, Dorijan Kolundžija, Iva Milikić, Vladimir Popović, Nebojša Vukelić, Miloš Ranković, Aca Ilić, Ivan Jovanović, Bojan Klaparević, Dragan Milić, Žaklina Antić, Darko Nerandžić, Zorica Jovanović, Boris Pavlov, Miodrag Nerandžić, Jelica Nerandžić, Dejan Vilić, Ana Sević, Boban Bojković / Duration: 20 min / The Black Box is commision by DISPLACEMENT- serbian pavillion for Prague Quadrennial of performace design and space 2011.

** This project is part of the outlines, proposals, and other artistic materials produced over the years as deconstruction of A Letter to Heiner M, a performance text by Goran Ferčec. The preceding drafts include the theoretical text The Weak History of (the Body of) a Superhero (2008), the storyboard score A Letter to Heiner M. Draft 2 (2009), and the audio guide The Passage (2011). For this draft, Ferčec wrote Additional Scenes to the ‘Train Carriage’ Situation. The following draft is a staging of the text produced at the Zagreb Youth Theatre in October of 2011.

[1] Jacques Rancière, The Emancipated Spectator, Verso, London-New York: 2009, p.3.

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CRNA KUTIJA

Crna kutija jeste nulti stepen scene – tréteau nu, empty space – prazni prostor koji vapi za izvedbom – susretom različitih scenskih tekstova: slike, zvuka, izvedbe, narativa. Po konceptu projekta Displacements, putem internet streaming-a, ona postaje medij susreta geografski razdvojenih materijala, umetnika, idealno fizičko mesto saradnje. Mesto za proučavanje formalnih odnosa između scenskih tekstova koji se međusobno definišu, reartikulišu i sukobljavaju.

Crna pozorišna kutija takođe predstavlja ono bezbedno mesto tradicionalnog pozorišta na kom se sudbine drugih ljudi posmatraju kao kroz ključaonicu – bez interakcije. Mesto na koje neznalice dolaze da gledaju paćenike (Platon)[1]. Ali šta ako se to bezbedno mesto uzdrma? Šta ako se upravo ta voajerska pozicija publike inscenira, ozvuči, izvede. Ako se pogledu umesto sigurnog uzbuđenja voajerizma podmetnu panika i paranoja. Ako se gledaočevom uhu podmetnu ozvučene misli koje izazivaju strah. Figura u kutiji beži i izmiče našem pogledu, sakriva se u masu, u javno, kolektivno i anonimno telo. Uobičajena, ulična društvena koreografija – hodanja, čekanja, sedenja, protesta – transformiše se u dramu, krije uljeza, stranca, teroristu, opasnost.

Prepoznati uljeza u slici. U slici javnosti ili javnosti kao slici.

Crna scena kutija jeste oblik javnog prostora u kojem se, u ovom slučaju i inscenira javni prostor. Izvedba svakodnevne društvene koreografije u nespektakularnim situacijama izvedena pešačkim, netreniranim telima statista, postaje predmet straha kada biva preoznačena serijom od pet kratkih monologa – tipičnih produkta društva straha i nadziranja sa početka XXI veka. Ono što se zapravo izvodi jeste kondicioniranost da svaki susret sa javnim prostorom aktivira strah. Strah od potencijalne katastrofe ili nesreće jeste paravan iza kog se krije permanentno stanje katastrofe ili nesreće. Konstantna eksplozija.

Crna kutija je i aparat uz pomoć kog saznajemo uzroke avionskih nesreća. Ona sadrži sve što se desilo pre eksplozije.

S.I. i B.DJ.

* Autori: Siniša Ilić i Bojan Đorđev / Tekst: Goran Ferčec / Tekst govori: Paul Leonard Murray / Zvuk: Nina Levkov (Marjan Srdić, Nebojša Vukelić, Mane Žuđelović) / Izvedba: Čarni Đerić, Ivan Acović, Bojan Đorđev, Dorijan Kolundžija, Iva Milikić, Vladimir Popović, Nebojša Vukelić, Miloš Ranković, Aca Ilić, Ivan Jovanović, Bojan Klaparević, Dragan Milić, Žaklina Antić, Darko Nerandžić, Zorica Jovanović, Boris Pavlov, Miodrag Nerandžić, Jelica Nerandžić, Dejan Vilić, Ana Sević, Boban Bojković / Trajanje performansa: 20 minuta / Crna kutija je narudžbina DISPLACEMENT - paviljona Srbije na Praškom kvadrijenalu dizajna performansa i prostora 2011

** Ovaj projekat je jedan od nacrta, propozicija iz višegodišnje proizvodnje umetničkih materijala koji dekonstruišu izvedbeni tekst Pismo Heineru M. Gorana Ferčeca. Nacrti koji mu prethode su teorijski tekst Slaba istorija (tela) super heroja (2008.), score za izvedbu u formatu storiboard-a Pismo Heineru M. verzija 2 (2009.), audio vodič Prolazak (2011.). Za potrebe ovog nacrta, Ferčec je napisao Dopisane scene na situaciju «u vagonu». Nacrt koji sledi je inscenacija teksta u Zagrebačkom kazalištu mladih u oktobru 2011.

[1] Žak Ransijer, Emancipovani gledalac, Edicija Jugoslavija, Beograd: 2010, str. 5.

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Saradnici / Credits

The Black Box is commision by DISPLACEMENT- serbian pavillion for Prague Quadrennial of performace design and space 2011 / Crna kutija je narudžbina DISPLACEMENT - paviljona Srbije na Praškom kvadrijenalu dizajna performansa i prostora 2011 / Author and curator / Autor i kustos: Dorijan Kolundžija; co-curators / ko-kustosi: Ana Adamović & Milica Pekić / Live video editing / Live video montaža: Filip Mikić / Live audio mix / Live audio miks / Ivan Acović / DP: Milan Tvrdišić / Live performace supervisor / Supervizor live izvedbe: Dorijan Kolundžija, Hologram boxes / Holografske konzole:: Galerija 12, Beograd / Organization / Organizacija: S. Cen – Centar za scenski dizajn, arhitekturu i tehnologiju, OISTAT centar Srbija / Production / Produkcija: Kiosk platforma za savremenu umetnost, Beograd //

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BEZ SVEDOKA / NO WITNESS

2011-05-29T10:56:00.021+02:00

Jedna prostorija u bunkeru je zaključana. Tako superhijerarhizovan prostor, pokazuje da čak ako bunker u Konjicu ili njemu slične prostore otvorimo ili prenamenimo u javne, obećane ili moguće bezbedne zone ostaju van našeg dometa.

One room in bunker is locked. Sealed space has a superb hierarchy. It shows that if we take the bunker in Konjic or some similar space and open them up, or transform them into public, promised or potential safe zones, they still stay outside our reach.

intervencija u prostoru / site specific intervention

No Network, kustos Branko Dimitrijevic, 1. Time Machine bijenale, atomski bunker D-O, Konjic, Bosna i Hercegovina, maj 2011.

No Network, curator Branko Dimitrijevic, 1st Time Machine Biennial, atomic bunker, D-O, Konjic, Bosina-Herzegovina, May 2011

NEIZVJESNE PRILAGODBE 2 / PRECARIOUS ADAPTATIONS 2

2011-05-29T10:35:00.022+02:00

Unutar lavirinta vidimo tragove ruševina

Inside the Maze There are Signs of a Ruin

Siniša Ilić & Tina Gverović

prostorna instalacija, 12 printova i crtez na dasci

space installation, 12 prints and drawing on panel

No Network, kustos Branko Dimitrijevic, 1. Time Machine Bijenale, atomski bunker D-O, Konjic, Bosna i Hercegovina, maj 2011.

No Network, curator Branko Dimitrijevic, 1st Time Machine Biennial, atomic bunker, D-O, Konjic, Bosina-Herzegovina, May 2011

NEIZVESNE ADAPTACIJE / PRECARIOUS ADAPTATIONS

2011-03-27T16:05:00.011+02:00

Sinisa Ilic & Tina Gverovic, gosca na projektu/studio visit Jelena Vesic

(scroll down for english version and more images)

Krajem januara 2011. godine umetnici Sinisa Ilic i Tina Gverovic pozvali su me da sarađujemo na izložbi koja bi predstavila ciklus njihovih novijih radova posvećenih temama neizvesnosti, nesigurnosti, tenzija i iščekivanja – radova koji se upravo analitički bave konstrukcijom i proizvodnjom ovog društvenog osećanja u polju vizuelnih reprezentacija. Prihvatila sam da budem kustoskinja izložbe, ali ne i da performiram kustoski servis onako kako se taj servis razumeva u uređenom institucionalnom poretku klasičnog exhibition-making-a. Predložila sam da istupimo iz svojih servisnih uloga i da zajednički pristupimo pravljenju izložbe. Pokušali smo da se odnosimo prema izložbi kao materijalnoj praksi zasnovanoj na određenom jeziku i određenom procesu rada koji neće skrivati sopstvenu procesualnost i mistifikovati je u dovršenom mizanscenu “gotove postavke”, nego će je, naprotiv, otkrivati kroz simultanost proizvodnje prostora i značenja izložbe u međusobnom dijalogu.

Nekada su umetnici radili u ateljeu, a dokumentaciju o njihovom radu čuvale su galerije. Danas je galerija radni prostor, dok je umetnički atelje postao mesto proizvodnje dokumentacije, komunikacije i ideja. Predložila sam da naša destabilizacija “servisnih uloga” započne upravo posetom galerije kao umetničkog ateljea. Došla sam u studijsku posetu trećeg dana postavke 15. marta 2011. godine, u trenutku kada je galerija već bila naseljena atmosferom umetničkog rada. Od tog trenutka naš zajednički rad, ili barem njegov verbalno-zvučni deo, sniman je audio snimačem i pretočen u scenario čiji fragment prilažemo kao vodič kroz radni proces na izložbi.

Svaka izložba je skriptovani prostor čija se naracija odvija uz pomoć fizičkog učešća posmatrača – njenog ili njegovog kretanja kroz dovršeni i dizajnirani prostor, i, pre svega, pristanka na ovaj fikcionalni odnos. Umesto totalnog uživljavanja u iluzionistički aparat izložbe, kroz ovaj senario predlažemo praćenje proizvodne realnosti umetničkog događaja na licu mesta. Svaka sličnost sa "stvarnim" ličnostima je slučajna.

KUSTOSKINJA: Kako će se zvati izložba na kojoj radimo?

UMETNIK: Neizvesne adaptacije.

KUSTOSKINJA: Zašto?

UMETNIK: Zato sto se izložba proizvodi na licu mesta kroz naš rad i naše prisustvo u prostoru. Ishod je neizvestan, a naš rad i naše prisustvo proizvode određene adaptacije u nečemu što je pre toga predstavljalo neutralni prostor ... u fizičkom smislu, svakako.

UMETNICA: Mi smo sa sobom poneli neku “opremu” koja je možda sadržana u nekim predmetima ili mislima, ali izložba nastaje sada i ovde, kroz neizvesni proces adaptacije koji traje pet dana.

KUSTOSKINJA: Te dve reči – neizvesno i adaptacija – nose u sebi određeni naboj, možda i kontradiktornost.

UMETNICA: Neizvesnost je stanje, osećanje, nešto što ima svoju dubinu i pritisak. Adaptacija je nešto što je dovršeno, sređeno, prilagođeno nečemu ...

KUSTOSKINJA: Tj. u nekakvom odnosu ovih pojmova, neizvesnost bi tu predstojala adaptaciji i možda proizvodila potrebu za adaptacijom, mada s druge strane i adaptacija ne znači nužno i neku dovršenost – to je takođe i neka vrsta nedovršenog stanja, nedovoljne gotovosti.

UMETNIK: Odnos te dve reči je cirkularan, kao u slučaju kokoške i jajeta.

KUSTOSKINJA: Da li je postojao neki konkretan događaj koji je predstojao tome da vi uđete baš u ovaj prostor i privremeno ga osvojite kao prostor svog rada?

UMETNICA: Postojala je naša međusobna razmena i zajednički rad ... takođe i često ponavljanje reči katastrofa koju smo počeli da promišljamo ...

UMETNIK: ... osećaj da kada kažeš katastrofa osećaš se kao kod kuće ...

UMETNICA: ... ali pitanje je da li se kroz takvo ponavljanje reč prazni od izvornog značenja.

KUSTOSKINJA: Pa da, ponavljanje reči katastrofa je žargonsko. U slengu se čak koristi kao blazirani izraz stalnog nezadovoljstva ili postavljanja iznad situacije ... npr. kada kažemo da je katastrofa to što nigde u blizini nema trafike sa vodom ili što čuvar galerije viče na umetnike zato što vrata nisu zaključana.

UMETNIK: Da to je slično kao kada se u englesko-američkom slengu na nekim mestima ponekad kaže “ugly” ... tipa “oh... so ugly”, ili “very ugly guy”, a zapravo se misli da je nešto super ili da je momak vrlo zgodan ili prijatan.

UMETNICA: Ili kao što se u Splitu kaže “ajme što si smišan”, a što u prevodu znači da dobro izgledaš ... Međutim, to je sada nešto drugo u odnosu na izložbu, ovde se nismo neposredno koristili tim lingvističkim igračkama.

KUSTOSKINJA: Dobro, ako se sada vratimo nazad ... ta reč katastrofa koju ste tako često pominjali, koju ste možda čak i pokušali da prikažete zaobilaznim putem kroz situacije rada ili iskustva koje ste proizvodili za druge, koliko sve to ima veze sa “spoljašnjim činiocima” u smislu tog “curenja” iz umetnosti u život i obratno, ili pak odnosa umetnosti i društvene realnosti? Da li sada ovde imamo neku “ponovo uokvirenu realnost”, da kažemo metaforički, jednu “sliku” koja pokušava da dekonstruiše nekakve strukture odnosa uzroka i posledica koje vezujemo za same događaje katastrofe u realnosti života i društva, ili je reč o “spojenim sudovima”, o nekoj vrsti direktne veze?

UMETNIK: Mislim da je reč o ovom prvom.

KUSTOSKINJA: Ali npr. katastrofa nije reč koju samo vas dvoje delite kao umetnik i umetnica koji su ostvarili neku zajednicu u jeziku i međusobnoj komunikaciji, već je u pitanju reč koja sa sobom nosi neko univerzalno opterećenje pre svega u polju reprezentacije, ili, ako hoćete, proizvodnje slika. Zanimljivo je da su te slike istovremeno hiperrealne – npr. izveštaji sa lica mesta (cunami, zemljotres, teroristički napad, ratna akcija, holokaust, atomska bomba) i “slike pokrivalice” – u smislu da njihova proizvodnja služi kidanju naših veza sa realnošću, sa realnim političkim procesima koji su uzročno-posledični i na koje možemo uticati svojom participacijom ili raznim oblicima otpora. Recimo - slika velikog talasa koji ruši gomile zgrada, nosi automobile kao lego kocke i za sobom ostavlja pustoš civilizacijskog đubrišta figuriše kao ekran straha, ali istovremeno i kao ekran zaborava. Mi te slike gledamo kao “Splav Meduza” ili npr. dela Caspar David Friedrich-a – one oduzimaju dah, one su posredovane romatičarskim patosom, vezanim za pojam sublimnog ili veličanstvenog, koji nas udaljava od “konkretne analize, konkretne situacije”.

UMETNICA: Da. A mi ovde baš nismo hteli da proizvedemo ništa uzvišeno, spektakularno ili reprezentativno ... već smo se više bavili efemernostima koje su vezane za “pre” ili “posle” događaja.

KUSTOSKINJA: Pa da. Slike katastrofa nam se uglavnom serviraju kao anestetičke slike. One nam govore – svet je veliki, priroda je neumoljiva ... šta je tvoja malena realnost, šta je stogodišnje parče istorije naspram svega toga ... ostani tu gde jesi i budi srećan ... ovo je događaj i ti si ga video ... ovo je talas, a ti ne talasaj, jer je tvoje talasnje ioanko samo plutanje planktona po okeanu. Međutim, i tu nije kraj ... jer nam se i društveni učinci žele servirati kao prirodne katastrofe. Strahote holokusta ili genocida se tako prikazuju kao onostrano ljudskosti, kao da npr. nekakva “apstraktna ljudskost” tu predstavlja normu ili garant da se katastrofa neće ponoviti. A upravo je reč o događjima koji imaju svoje političke uzroke i u kojima upravo posreduje civilizacija i ljudskost, a ne nekakav pad u prirodno-životinjsko stanje ... Da zaključim, čini mi se da je reprezentacija raznih katastrofa upravo ta “disciplinujuća slika” koja participira u tehnikama vladanja savremenog kapitalizma. I čini mi se da tu granica između realnosti i fikcije više prestaje da postoji u polju ideološke reprezentacije. Npr. vatreni izveštaji o strašnim događajima sa lica mesta, postaju estetizovane slike koje hrane našu imaginaciju, slike koje počinjemo da volimo i u kojima uživamo jednako kao u akcionim filmovima, horor filmovima ili filmovima katastrofe. One nam govore da je strava negde izvan, da se dešava nekom drugom, i da se slobodno možemo predati vizuelnom zadovoljstvu i trenutku sigurnosti.

UMETNIK: Da, sve ove različite, a i međusobno povezane stvari o kojima si sada govorila uticale su na našu odluku da se bavimo logikom tog mikro-sveta uzroka i posledica koji su često nevidljivi.

UMETNICA: Koji nemaju tu društvenu i medijsku vidljivost kao događaj katastrofe.

UMETNIK: Mada, ovde su u prostoru i crteži, tj. serija malih crteža koje sam napravio nakon zemljotresa u Japanu ... tako da možda i ima tih “spojenih sudova” ili curenja spram i iz konkretnih događaja koji su postali snažni simboli neizvesnosti.

UMETNICA: Razmišljamo da li da uključimo te crteže u postavku ili ne. Oni su ovde prislonjeni, na ovaj srednji zid, pregradu ili barikadu – zovite to kako hoćete ... ostavila bih asocijacije slobodnima za bilo koje čitanje – a bočno od njih su ovi hipnotički i blurovani videi, koji su skroz izglobljeni iz tradicionalnog prikazivanja videa kao umetnosti ... nekako su ćušnuti u stranu, kao da će slika u svakom trenutku pasti ili nestati ...

KUSTOSKINJA: To su neke video-mrvice koje su ostale na stolu nakon izložbe-večere kao u sceni memento mori, na primer... u ovom slučaju simboličke smrti galerijskog aparata reprezentacije. To kažem zbog toga što je galerijski aparat sav u reprezentaciji, u nekoj vrsti dovršenosti na koju nailazimo čak i kada zatičemo praznu “belu kocku”, dok ovom procedurom postavke, rada i dijaloga, mi zapravo postajemo sušta suprotnost toj “skockanosti” ... ovo će pre biti neka vrsta otvorene radionice ili ateljea, neka vrsta radno-laboratorijskog prostora ...

UMETNIK: Može se tako reći. Međutim, ti crteži bi ipak trebalo da budu postavljeni kako galerijski aparat nalaže – u nizu i na sredini zida.

KUSTOSKINJA: Na visini 165 mm od poda – to bi onda bilo doslovno ispunjenje muzejskih konvencija.

UMETNIK: Da. A opet, u pitanju je serija malih formata i bledih kontura, gotovo nevidljiva u ovom polumraku galerijskog trbuha ... tako da i sama postaje neka mrvica, ostatak nečega što je bilo, a što je vezano za to “curenje realnosti”.

KUSTOSKINJA: Ako se slažete, možemo odmah da postavimo crteže.

UMETNICA: Dogovor!

(postavljanje)

KUSTOSKINJA: Hajde sada da se vratimo na ulaz galerije, zanima me arhitektura postavke i kako se izložba razvija kao neka vrsta skriptovanog prostora. Sada je treći dan postavke, u prostoru se nalazi neka vrsta “proto-arhitekture”, stari nameštaj recikliran iz prethodnih izložbi koje su se desile u ovoj galeriji, tu je zatim tehnička oprema, nekoliko umetničkih radova, materijal za postavku i nekoliko situacija koje su već dizajnirane, odnosno, postavljene.

UMETNIK: Tu smo nas dvoje kao umetnici, tu si i ti kao kustoskinja izložbe. Reklo bi se da imamo dovoljno materijala i ljudstva za dalji rad.

KUSTOSKINJA: Ako pogledamo na galerijski prostor sa ulaznih vrata situacija definitivno izgleda kao da su “radovi u toku”, kao da je galerija zatvorena za javnost. Onda kroz ovaj uski prolaz stupamo u prostor izložbe koji nas iznenađuje nekom svojom dekompozicijom ... isčašenošću u razmeštaju objekata i događaja. Međutim, prvo treba savladati tu under construction barijeru i shvatiti je kao poziv ili kao neku vrstu metafore za ono što ćemo sresti kao prostor izložbe.

UMETNIK: To bi onda bila prva rečenica u scenariju izlagačkog narativa. Idemo dalje.

(nastaviće se)

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Neizvesne adaptacije, je nastavak zajedničkih radova dvoje autora, fokusiranih na različita, nestabilna i ne sasvim definisana moguća stanja katastrofe. Katastrofu ne problematizujemo kao dramatičan rez, utopističko ili romantičarsko obećanje katarze, koje najavljuje mogućnost novog društvenog prostora, već kao prostor svakodnevice, onaj koji je već oko nas, onaj u kojem jesmo, u kojem uveliko živimo i radimo - kompleksan, neorganzovan, dezorijentišući, i sa i bez tragova definisanih smernica i referenci. Katastrofa koju prikazujemo je politička, ekološka, društvena, lična i emotivna.

Prostor izložbe ispunjavaju radovi u formatima videa, objekta, teksta i crteža sa druge strane zida… Unutar lavirinta vidimo tragove ruševina. Pojedini segmenti izložbe ukazuju na arheologiju nedavne prošlosti, dok drugi nude polazne tačke za moguću buduću arheologiju.

Fokusiramo se na proizvodnju i prezentaciju različitih sadržaja, ne ujedinjenih u kristalno jasnu i sasvim sinhronizaovanu celinu, niti kompaktnu ‘poruku’. Galerija je podeljena u manje prostorne celine, koje zajedno stvaraju utisak lavirinta u kojem nailazimo na serije ili pojedinačne, radove. Hodnici i niše sugerišu disorijentaciju i ne uvek jasno odvojene radove, slično kao što je bio slučaj i u prethodnim saradnjama, gde radovi i autori nisu bili precizno odvojeni i obeleženi. Svaku celinu ispunjava drugi element, rad na izložbi, bilo da je reč o slajd projekciji, crtežu ili zvuku.

S.I. & T.G.

Likovna galerija, Kulturni centar Beograda, mart 2011.

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PRECARIOUS ADAPTATIONS

Tina Gverovic & Sinisa Ilic, studio visitor Jelena Vesic

Towards the end of January 2011, the artists Sinisa Ilic and Tina Gverovic invited me to collaborate on an exhibition that would present a cycle of their recent works dedicated to the themes of uncertainty, insecurity, tension and expectation – works that deal with the construction and production of these states in the sphere of visual representation. I agreed to be the curator of the exhibition, but not to perform curatorial services in the manner of the established institutional order of classical exhibition-making. I proposed to them that we might step outside of our servicing roles and jointly approach the exhibition production. We tried to consider the exhibition in terms of a material practice which is based on a common language, a practice that does not hide its process-based approach nor mystify it in the form of the completed mise-en-scène of a finalised work. On the contrary, the work is revealed through the production of space where meaning is formed through mutual dialogue.

There was a time when artists worked in a studio, while galleries preserved the documentation of their work. Today the gallery is their working space, while the art studio has become a place where documentation is produced, as well as communication and ideas. I proposed to commence the destabilisation of our “servicing roles” precisely by visiting the gallery as an art studio. I came for the purpose of a study visit on the third day of installation, on March 15th 2011, when the gallery was already inhabited by the sense of work-in-process. From that moment on, our joint work, or conversation, was recorded and became the basis for a script, a fragment of which we enclose as a sort of guide through the process of working on the exhibition.

Each exhibition is a scripted space whose narration unfolds by means of the physical participation of the observer – her or his movement through the completed and designed space, and, first of all, her/his acceptance of this fictional relationship. Instead of a total immersion in the illusionist apparatus of the exhibition, what we propose through this scenario is a monitoring of the actual process of the development and staging of an event. (Any resemblance to “real” persons is purely coincidental.)

CURATOR: What will the exhibition we are working on be called?

ARTIST 1: Precarious Adaptations.

CURATOR: Why?

ARTIST 1: Because the exhibition is produced on the spot through our work and through our presence in this space. The outcome is uncertain, and our work and our presence produce certain adaptations in something that, before this, represented a neutral space... certainly in physical terms.

ARTIST 2: We have brought along some “equipment” that may be contained in some objects or thoughts, but the exhibition comes into being here and now, through an uncertain process of adaptation lasting five days.

CURATOR: Those two words – uncertain and adaptation – carry a certain charge within themselves, perhaps even a contradiction.

ARTIST 2: Uncertainty is a state, feeling, something that has a depth to it, and pressure. Adaptation is something that is completed, ordered, adapted to something...

CURATOR: That is to say, within the framework of some kind of relationship between these terms, uncertainty precedes adaptation and might produce a need for adaptation, although, on the other hand, adaptation does not necessarily mean some kind of completeness – it is also an incomplete state of sorts, insufficient completeness.

ARTIST 1: These two words are in a circular relationship, just like a hen and an egg.

CURATOR: Was there a specific event that preceded your entering this particular space and temporarily appropriating it as your work space?

ARTIST 2: There was our mutual exchange and joint work... also, we often repeated the word catastrophe, which we started pondering...

ARTIST 1: ... a feeling of being at home when you say the word catastrophe...

ARTIST 2: ... but the question remains whether through this repetition the word is emptied of its original meaning.

CURATOR: Why, yes, the repetition of the word catastrophe is jargon-like. As a slang word, it is even used as a blasé expression of continuous dissatisfaction or of positioning oneself above the situation at hand... for example, when we say that it’s a catastrophe that there is no shop or kiosk nearby where you could buy water, or because the gallery keeper is shouting at the artists because the gallery door’s been left unlocked.

ARTIST 1: Yes, it’s like when they say, in Anglo-American slang things like “ugly”... as in “Oh... so ugly” or “a very ugly guy”, while actually meaning that something is super or that the guy in question is very handsome.

ARTIST 2: Or when they say in Split “My God, how funny you are”, which actually means that you’re looking good... However, that’s besides the concerns of this exhibition, we made no direct recourse to those linguistic games here.

CURATOR: All right, if we go back now... the word catastrophe, which you’ve mentioned so often, which you might even have tried to present in a roundabout manner through situations of work or experience that you produced for others, to what extent is all that connected to “external factors” in the sense of “leaking” from art into life and the other way round, or to the relationship between art and social reality? Is what we have here now a “reality framed anew”, to put it metaphorically, an “image” that tries to deconstruct some structures of the relationship between cause and consequence that we link to the actual catastrophic events in the reality of life and society, or are we talking about “linked vessels”, about some kind of direct connection?

ARTIST 1: I believe it’s the former.

CURATOR: But, for instance, catastrophe is not a word that only you two share as artists who have realised some kind of community in language and mutual communication, it’s a word that carries some universal charge, first of all in the sphere of representation, or, if you want, the production of pictures. It is interesting that these pictures are at the same time hyper-real – for instance, reports from the field (tsunami, earthquake, terrorist attack, wartime action, holocaust, atomic bomb) and “cover pictures” – in the sense that their production serves to sever our connections with reality, with real political processes that are of the cause-and-effect type, which we can influence through our participation or through various forms of resistance. For example – a picture depicting a big wave destroying many buildings, carrying cars like Lego cubes, leaving behind a wasteland of civilisation in the form of a garbage dump, such a picture functions as a screen of fear, but also as a screen of oblivion. We look upon those pictures as The Raft of the Medusa or, for example, works by Caspar David Friedrich – they take one’s breath away, they are mediated by romanticist pathos, connected to the notion of the sublime or magnificent, which distances us from “a concrete analysis, a concrete situation”.

ARTIST 2: Yes. And we had no intention of producing anything sublime, spectacular or representative here... we dealt with ephemeral phenomena connected to “before” or “after” the event.

CURATOR: Yes. Images of catastrophes are for the most part served to us as anaesthetic pictures. They tell us – the world is huge, nature is implacable… what is your tiny reality, what is a hundred-year piece of history compared to all that… remain where you are and be happy… this is an event and you have seen it… this is a wave, but don’t you try to make waves ... your attempt at making waves is nothing more than plankton drifting on the surface of the ocean anyway. But that is not the end of it. They want to present social effects to us as natural catastrophes. The horrors of the Holocaust or genocide are thus presented as the other of humanity, as if, for example, some “abstract humanity” represents the norm or a guarantee that the catastrophe will not be repeated. And we’re talking about events that have their political causes and are mediated precisely by civilisation and humanity, not by a fall into a natural/animal state… To conclude, it appears to me that representing various catastrophes is actually this “disciplining image” that participates in the governmental techniques of contemporary capitalism. And it seems to me that the borderline between reality and fiction no longer exists in the sphere of ideological representation. For example, impassioned reports about terrible events sent from the actual locations become aestheticised images that feed our imagination, images that we start liking and enjoy as much as action movies, horror movies or catastrophe movies. They tell us that horror is somewhere outside, that it happens to someone else, and that we may freely succumb to visual pleasure and a moment of security.

ARTIST 1: Yes, all these different but interlinked things you’ve been talking about have influenced our decision to deal with the logic of this micro-world of causes and consequences that are often invisible.

ARTIST 2: Which don’t have the social and media visibility that a catastrophic event has.

ARTIST 1: Although this space contains drawings as well, a series of small-scale drawings I made after the earthquake in Japan... so that perhaps there are “linked vessels” there, or leakage against and from specific events that have become strong symbols of uncertainty.

ARTIST 2: We’re thinking about whether to include these drawings in the exhibition or not. Here they are, propped up against this middle wall, partition or barricade – call it what you will... I would leave space for free association enabling any kind of reading – and there are all these hypnotic and blurred videos to the left and right of them, totally out of joint when it comes to presenting video as an art form... they are somehow pushed aside, as if the picture could fall down or disappear at any moment...

CURATOR: Those are some “video crumbs” left over on the table after the “exhibition-dinner”, as in a memento mori-type scene, for example… in this case, a symbolic death of the gallery apparatus of representation. I say this because the gallery apparatus is all about representation, a kind of completeness that we come across even when we find an empty “white cube”, whereas through this procedure of layout, work and dialogue, we actually become a total opposite of that kind of orderliness… this is more likely going to be a kind of open workshop or studio, a working-laboratory area of sorts…

ARTIST 1: You might put it like that. However, those drawings should be placed in the way the gallery apparatus requires – in succession and in the middle of the wall.

CURATOR: They should be 165 mm above the floor level – that would be a literal fulfillment of museum conventions.

ARTIST 1: Yes. And then again, it is a series of small formats and pale contours, almost invisible in the semi-darkness of the gallery’s belly... so that it becomes a sort of crumb itself, a leftover of something that used to be, something that is connected to “reality leakage”.

CURATOR: If you agree, we can arrange those drawings immediately.

ARTIST 2: Done!

(Placing the drawings on the wall)

CURATOR: Let’s now go back to the gallery entrance, I’m interested in the architecture of the exhibition layout and how the exhibition is developing as a kind of scripted space. Today is the third day of work on the exhibition. The exhibition space contains a kind of “proto-architecture”, old furniture recycled from previous exhibitions staged at this gallery, then there’s the technical equipment, several art works, material for the exhibition and several situations that have already been designed, that is, set in place.

ARTIST 1: There’s the two of us as artists, and there’s you as the curator of the exhibition. It would appear that we have enough material and people for further work.

CURATOR: If we look at the gallery space from the entrance, the situation definitely gives one the impression of “work in progress”, of the gallery being closed to the public. Then, through this narrow passage we enter the exhibition space, which surprises us by its decomposition... by the out-of-joint quality of the arrangement of objects and events. However, one first has to overcome that under construction-type of barrier and understand it as an invitation, or as a kind of metaphor for what we’ll encounter as the exhibition space.

ARTIST 1: That, then, would be the first sentence in the exhibition narrative scenario. On we go.

(To be continued)

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Precarious Adaptations is the latest stage in a series of ongoing collaborative projects by project Tina Gverovic and Sinisa Ilic which focus on various unstable and undefined states of catastrophe. They do not problematise catastrophe as a dramatic point of discontinuity, a utopian or romantic promise of catharsis, announcing the possibility of a new social space, but as an area of everyday life, the one which is already around us, the one we are already in, in which we live and work – complex, disorganised, disorientating, with or without traces of defined guidelines and references. The catastrophe that they present is political, ecological, social, personal and emotional.

Gverovic and Ilic present a variety of elements that are not unified into a crystal-clear and entirely synchronised whole, nor do they constitute a compact “message”. The exhibition space is filled with works in various formats: video, object, text and drawing. The gallery space is subdivided into smaller spatial wholes, which together create the impression of a labyrinth, wherein we find series of works or individual works. The corridors and niches suggest disorientation and works that are not always clearly separated. Each niche is filled by a different element, another work within the framework of the exhibition, be it a slide projection, drawing or sound. Inside the labyrinth, we see traces of ruins. Certain segments of the exhibition point to the archaeology of recent past, while others offer starting points for a possible future archaeology.

S. I. & T.G.

Art Gallery, Cultural Centre Belgrade, March 2011

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NEUPOREDIVOSTI. NASTAJANJE SUMNJIVOG STANJA. Tina Gverovic i Sinisa Ilic / 2

2011-01-14T18:46:00.009+01:00

text in english and images below / engleska verzija teksta i slike ispod

Gallery NOVA, Zagreb, september 2010, exhibition design Ban Cain / Galerija NOVA, Zagreb septembar 2010, dizajn izlozbe Ban Cain.

ALARM

Ivana Mance

Tjeskoba je nedostatak nedostatka, tvrdi Lacan. Kada nedostatak počne nedostajati, počinje vladavina kataklizmičkog gubitka, urušavanje simboličkoga poretka. Tjeskoba je, dakle, potonuće simboličkog u Realnom, nemogućnost simboličke identifikacije subjekta na Mjestu koje ga društveno određuje, pozicionira, plasira u polje društvene vidljivosti. Izostanak tog nužnog odmaka, nevidljive deklinacije od simboličkog zakona na koji se nužno odaziva - od vlastitog imena preko obiteljskih uloga do profesionalnih zadaća - u konačnici rezultira regresijom u prisilno, kompulzivno ponašanje: apsolutnom podložnošću Superegu, izostankom suvereniteta i djelovanja na osnovi slobodne volje. Predosjećaj katastrofe, kako svoju temu definiraju Siniša Ilić i Tina Gverović, stanje je, dakle, kada više ne možemo vlastitu poziciju prakticirati kao simbolički arbitrarnu, kada se osjećamo preplavljeni Realnim.

Ciklusi crteža koji nastaju već neko vrijeme kroz njihov zajednički rad, prizivaju oblike prisilne egzistencije u društvu otuđenog rada. Na njima uglavnom gledamo uobičajene prizore: radna mjesta odnosno mjesta javnog djelovanja, scene kakve svakodnevno susrećemo. Ljudi oko nas, mi sami: pred sučeljem, kod kuće ili u uredima; u parlamentarnim dvoranama, na javnim plenumima, u čekaonicama. To su mjesta s puno stolica na koja moramo sjesti, postaviti se na Mjesto. (Kada ulazim u dvoranu uvijek sam zdvojna – gdje sjesti? U prednje redove, stražnje redove, na lijevu ili desnu polovicu dvorane, uz rub? Gdje ću se osjećati bolje? I kada napokon sjednem, imam prividan izbor – slušati predavanje ili gledati kroz prozor? Sudjelovati ili ne sudjelovati? Niti jedno niti drugo me ne zadovoljava. Tjeskobna sam.)

Što na tim crtežima doista proizvodi osjećaj tjeskobe? Na razini sadržaja, ti radovi prikazuju uobičajene situacije i predmete; čak ako i pretpostavimo da je referentna tema panična anksioznost, ona nije razlučiva na razini pojedinačnog, racionalno prepoznatljivog motiva. Neopisiva sablasnost počiva u činjenici da se njihovi crteži ponašaju kao svojevrsne tautologije, demonstracije nepovjerenja u moć simboličke reprezentacije. U potpunosti lišeni svakog estetskog užitka, bez želje za dopadljivošću, namjernim izostankom logičke veze ili narativnog slijeda između nepovezanih motiva, oni su izraz potpune dezintegracije volje i odsustva vjere u moć prikazivanja. Naizgled prepoznatljivi sadržaji tek prisiljavaju pogled: oko kompulzivno gleda ali ne vidi što ti repetitivni prizori zapravo žele prikazati. Crteži Tine i Siniše su namijenjeni nemoćnome buljenju: žedni pored vode, tražimo i ne nalazimo nužnu deklinaciju u odnosu na događaj prikazivanja koja bi nam omogućila racionalnu distancu sagledavanja cjeline. Dvodimenzionalni prostor slike, štoviše, i doslovno se negira kao mjesto mimetičke reprezentacije. Uvezani kao knjiga, na izložbama redovito predstavljeni kao fragmenti ambijentalnih cjelina – i u prvom i u drugom slučaju, poništava se perspektivna, geometrijska objektivacija sadržaja. Uvučeni smo u svojevrsnu pripovijest bez završetka, nemoćno izloženi Realnom koje se na svijest obrušava neopisivom banalnošću motiva i izvedbe: u prostorno i vremenski neodređenom kadru nekontrolirano se nižu siluete bezličnih figura, pojedinaca lišenih osobnosti ili grupa ljudi; uredski inventar i materijal; fragmenti apstraktnih organičkih formi ili izvanjskog okoliša; oruđe manuelnog rada; mjestimično i vatreno oružje. Minimalističkim sredstvima, Siniša i Tina provociraju ozračje ubikvitarne ponovljivosti, monotonog opetovanja istog. Daleko od bilokakvih izvanrednih kataklizmičkog prizora, tjeskoba proizlazi upravo iz kompulzivnog, prisilnog ponavljanja istih, nedosljedno variranih motiva koji se nadovezuju bez prepoznatljive intencije i smisla, potpuno negirajući parametre prostorne i vremenske protežnosti. Svakodnevno radno okruženje interiorizira se tako kao opsesivni vrtlog traume: rad se pretvara u patološko, neurotično stanje obuzete, opsjednute psihološke egzistencije u kojoj ne možemo prestati ponavljati upravo onu radnju koja predstavlja izvor nelagode. U društvu koje kapitalizira upravo takvo stanje kolektivne neuroze, alternativni ishod čini se nemoguć. Rad Tine i Siniše alarm je uzbune bez perspektive prestanka, fatalni non-stop.

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CAUSE FOR ALARM

Ivana Mance

According to Lacan, anxiety is the lack of a lack. Where there is no lack, a cataclysmic loss takes over, and the symbolic order crumbles. In anxiety, therefore, the symbolic finds itself submerged by the Real, and the subject is not able to find symbolic identification in the Place which should provide it with social parameters, positioning and placing it within the socially visible range. Without this vital distancing – an invisible deviation from the symbolic law to which it necessarily responds, from its very name to family roles and professional tasks – the subject eventually resorts to forced, compulsive behavior. Tina Gverović and Siniša Ilić define their subject matter as a premonition of disaster – a state in which one is no longer able to make one’s position arbitrary in symbolic terms and feels inundated by the Real.

For some time now, their joint-project cycles of drawings have invoked forms of forced existence in an alienated labor society. They present us with commonplace scenes: workplaces – places of public action, rather – scenes one comes across daily. The people around us, ourselves: facing the interface, at home or in offices, in parliamentary arenas, public assemblies, in waiting rooms. All are places with many seats one must take and find one’s Place. (Whenever I enter an auditorium, I get perplexed: where should I sit? Up front, in the back, left or right, in the sidelines? Where shall I feel more comfortable? And once I have finally sat down, there seems to be a choice: should I listen to the lecture or stare out through the window? Should I participate or not? I am not happy with either. I feel anxious.)

What is it in those drawings that actually produces a feeling of anxiety? Content-wise, they depict ordinary situations and objects; while panic anxiety may well be their thematic point of reference, nowhere is it discernible as a single, rationally recognizable motif. The drawings are ineffably eerie insofar as they behave as tautologies of sorts, pointedly skeptical about the power of symbolic representation. Utterly bereft of any kind of esthetic gratification or wish to please, deliberately failing to provide a logical link or a narrative order between their unrelated motifs, they express a complete breakdown of will and lack of faith in the power of representation. Their purportedly obvious content merely coerces the eye: its compulsive gaze offers no clue as to what those repetitive scenes actually mean to depict. Tina’s and Siniša’s drawings are to be impotently stared at: unable to see the forest for the trees, one seeks and fails to find the necessary deviation from representation-in-progress, which might provide one with the rational distance one needs to be able to grasp the whole. Moreover, the two-dimensional space of the image is literally invalidated as a place of mimetic representation. The drawings are book-bound, and exhibitions invariably feature them as fragments of ambient units, effectively nullifying the perspectival and geometrical objectivation of their content. One gets drawn into a story without an ending, helplessly exposed to the Real, which pounces on one’s consciousness with unspeakable banality of motif and performance. Within a frame out of place or time, there is an unchecked sequence of silhouettes – faceless figures, impersonal individuals or groups of people, office fixtures and material, fragments of abstract organic forms or outside environment: tools of manual labor, even firearms. Siniša and Tina use minimalistic means to create an atmosphere of ubiquitous repetitiveness, a monotone repetition of the one and the same thing. Far from any extraordinarily cataclysmic scenes, anxiety springs from a compulsive and forced repetition of the same motives in inconsequential variation, following one after the other with no apparent intention or sense, in an utter negation of any parameters of spatial or temporal extensibility. Thus, a commonplace work environment is internalized as an obsessive vortex of trauma: work turns into a pathological, neurotic state of an obsessed and tormented psychic life, where one feels compelled to repeat the very same action which has been causing the unease. In a society capitalizing upon this very state of collective neurosis, there seems to be no alternative outcome. Tina’s and Siniša’s work sounds an alert with no calling off in sight – a fatally never-ending state of siege. (translation Vlatka Valentic)

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images / slike >>

PISMO HEINERU M. verzija 3

2010-12-08T00:24:00.003+01:00

Rad Pismo Heineru M, verzija 3 koncipiran je kao cjelina koja se sastoji od istoimenog izvedbenog teksta i serije crteža dijelom nastalih prema navedenom tekstu. Postavljeni jedno uz drugo, tekst i slika propituju složeni odnos dvaju medija, pri čemu se gledatelju otvara široko polje mogućeg iščitavanja i pronalaska veza u značenjima narativa upisanih u tekst/sliku. Otvaranjem tog polja gledatelj iz pasivne pozicije onoga-koji-gleda, postaje aktivni sudionik, na način da spajanjem sadržaja koji su mu prezentirani u procesu same recepcije kreira vlastitu poziciju kao performativnu: između narativa teksta i narativa slike gledatelj organizira vlastiti narativ. Tako narativ postaje osnovna tema, a pokušaj manipulacije narativom jedan od glavnih autorskih postupaka ovog rada. Linearnosti kao narativnom postupku iznošenja radnje/činjenica/priče, karakterističnim za dvadeseto stoljeće, potrebno je pristupiti kritički kao prema jednoobraznom modelu iščitavanja povijesnih, političkih i socijalnih narativa. Ovaj rad bavi se upravo pokušajem razbijanja te vrste linearne i narativne indoktrinacije. Kontrapunktiranje dvaju medija i prostor koji se otvara među autorskim naracijama samom promatraču nudi razbijanje jednoobrazne linearnosti i sugerira upisivanje (doslovno i metaforičko) nekog novog narativnog niza. Rad Pismo Heineru M, verzija 3 traži od gledatelja da ga tretira kao otvoreno djelo, a započete narative širi, reorganizira, preusmjerava i koristi kao materijal za artikuliranje kritičke slike svijeta. Rad svojim konceptom sugerira performativnu strategiju kojom se gledatelja iz pasivnog stanja percepcije aktivira u subjekt aktivne recepcije. Konkretno, izloženi rad moguće je čitati kao poziv na kritiku i intervenciju ne samo u ograničenom prostoru kulture i umjetnosti, već i kao poziv na kritičko djelovanje usmjereno prema ostalim društvenim disciplinama, procesima i praksama.

Siniša Ilić i Goran Ferčec

Fotografije postavke / Installation view 'No Ifs, No Buts', Tutun Depo, Istanbul, kustosi / curators Gulsen Bal & Walter Seidl, 2010. http://www.depoistanbul.net/en/activites_detail.asp?ac=40

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Letter to Heiner M, version 3 is work is combined out of the the performance text and a series of drawing by the same name based on the said text. Juxtaposed, both the text and the picture examine the complex relation of the two media, while providing the viewer with a wide range of possible readings and discovering connections between the meanings of the narratives written into the text/picture. By opening up this field, the viewer goes from being a passive on-looker to becoming and active participant in such a way that through a merging of the contents presented to him he creates his own performative position within the process of reception: between the narrative of the text and the narrative of the picture, the viewer organizes his own narrative. Thus the narrative becomes the main theme and the attempt of its manipulation one of the principal authorial methods of this work. Linearity as the narrative technique of expressing the plot/facts/story, so characteristic of the 20^th century, needs to be critically approached as a uniform model for reading historical, political and social narratives. This work is all about the attempt to shatter such linear and narrative indoctrination. The counterpoint of the two media and the space that is revealed between the author’s narrations offers the viewer the ability to destroy this uniform linearity and suggests the inscription (both literally and metaphysically) of a new line of narration. It demands the viewer to perceive it as an open work as it spreads, re-organizes, diverts and uses the given narratives as a material for articulating a critical perception of the world. In its concept, it suggests a performative strategy which transforms the viewer from a state of passive perception into a subject of an active reception. On a more specific note, this work can be perceived as an invitation to criticism and intervention, not only in the confined space of art and culture, but also as an invitation to a critical action directed at other social disciplines, processes and practices.

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DANI NEPOSLUŠNOSTI U REPUBLICI ZNANJA / DAYS OF DISOBEDIENCE IN THE REPUBLIC OF KNOWLEDGE

2010-11-11T22:56:00.002+01:00

Akteri: Joseph Jacotot, Jacques Rancière, Stari Učitelj i njegov Edukacijski Mamut, naučnik, učitelj neznalica, učenice i učenici, gradski ljudi, ptice, mašine, životinje i bube, 1 ljudsko mladunče, i vox populi (opcionalno – personifikovan glasnogovornikom)

Actors: Joseph Jacotot, Jacquer Rancière, Old Schoolmaster and his Educational Mammoth, Scientist, Ignorant Schoolmaster, female and male students, urban folk, birds, machines, animals and bugs, one human cub, vox populi (optionally personalized by a spokesperson).

*** *** ***
Scene-zadaci se izvršavaju kao „pričanje priče“ na gradskom trgu u Republici znanja. S jedne strane, vreme je sadašnje, može se reći post-fordističko, takođe i bolonjsko, a više od svega globalno itd. S druge, sve deluje kao prošlost. Kao da se prošlosti prizivaju da bi se intervenisalo u sadašnjost; i u toj intervenciji se aktuelizuju. Prošlost Francuske revolucije, prošlost '68-e, Revolucija sama kao prošlost. Metodološki problem nije samo kako prizvati prošlost(i), već i o kojoj se sadašnjosti radi. Ovih dana teško ide sa konsenzusom u Republici znanja. I priča tako divergira u mnoštvo različitih pravaca...

Scenes/tasks are to be executed as "storytelling" at the city square in the Republic of Knowledge. Time is present, and it might be labeled either post-fordist, bolognian, global, etc. On the other hand, everything recalls past. It is as if 'pasts' are summoned in order to intervene in the present moment, and to be actualized in the act of intervention. Past of the French revolution, past of '68. The Revolution as past. What appears as methodological problem is not only how to invocate past(s), but which present time is at stake. It is hard to reach consensus in the Republic of Knowledge these days. And so the story flows in many different directions...

Leto je, velegrad: gužva, mnoštvo ljudi, mašina, vozila, gradskih ptica i životinja i raznih drugih stvorenja i naprava. ...To nije organizovan skup, ne liči na prazničnu paradu, ni na političke demonstracije. To nije ni saobraćajni špic, pa ni zoološki vrt, čak ni beg životinja iz šume u požaru. To je uglavnom život, bios, u svom potencijalitetu.

Summertime, metropolis: crowd of people, machines, vehicles, city birds and animals, other creatures and devices... all this not being an organized whole, neither resembling a holiday parade nor political protest. Not a rush hour; neither a zoo garden or flee of animals from the burning forest. This is mainly life, bios in its potentiality.

Arhitektura trga je živopisna, nešto između favele, Slavije i londonskog Cityja. Na jednom delu trga je stari ali kvalitetno građen Univerzalni Muzej, u kojem je jedini eksponat polu-sasušeni Mamut, pridržan metalnom konstrukcijom. 100m levo je stalno-raspaljen ražanj na kojem se može ispeći Mamut ili nešto drugo, i zatim pojesti. Od te vatre je svima još više vruće nego što bi inače bilo. Preko puta ražnja je sajber bio-genetička laboratorija, u kojoj se Mamut može analizirati i genetski modifikovati; a takođe, tu mu se može produžiti život.

City square’s architecture is pictoresque, a cross-between favella, Slavija square and London’s City. Its part is occupied by old but solidly built Universal Museum with only object displayed being a half-dried Mammoth, supported by metal construction. Hundred meters on the left stands an ever-burning skewer that could be used to roast and afterwards eat the Mammoth (or something else). The fire makes everyone feel even hotter than usual. Opposite from the skewer is a bio-genetic lab where Mammoth could be analyzed and genetically modified: also, its life might be prolonged there.

Desno od nje je retro-giljotina, na kojoj se Mamut i dan-danas može ubiti voljom većine. Još 50m desno je čisto i tiho Mamutsko sirotište, gde čuvaju male mamutske monstrume. Tu se mogu skloniti i budući monstrumski naraštaji, za slučaj da Laboratorija zakaže. Ako se sad okrenete levo, videćete fancy plastičnu Banku, koja 17 puta dnevno različito procenjuje vrednost Mamuta. Tim procenama se veruje, mada Banka živi od čiste krađe. Kad se stane ispred Banke, dijametralno se nalazi neki ćumez, privremeno sklepan. Ne zna mu se namena, te iako izgleda bedno, izaziva zazornost i strah. Fali bordel, rekli bi neki... Ali ne, tu je i bordel. A škola...? Ne, škola ne fali, hvala na pitanju... Trg se stalno rotira, mada je svaka sličnost sa mansionskom scenografijom slučajna.

On the right from the lab a retro-guillotine is located, where Mammoth even nowadays might be murdered by the majority’s will. Fifty meters on the right there is clean and quiet Mammoth orphanage, where small mammoth monsters are kept. Future monster generations can be preserved in it, if the Lab fails. Turn to the left and you will notice a fancy plastic Bank that values Mammoth differently 17 times a day. These estimations are to be trusted, although the Bank exists due to pure thievery. Looking opposite from the Bank, one will notice a temporarily-built slum house. Its purpose is unknown, and although looking wretchedly, it brings about dread and fear. Some would say – a brothel is missing. But no – there is one. And school…? No, the school isn’t lacking, thanks for asking… Square keeps rotating, though every resemblance to medieval ‘mansion’ scenography is incidental.

U pričanju treba izbeći objašnjenje. Postavi se matrica jedne scene, unesu bitni elementi i naznači intervencija. Zatim se prelazi na sledeću. Pre kao poziv nego lekcija u savladavanju gradiva. U tome, granica između didaskalija i replika se preskače; nije jasno gde strip počinje i gde završava. Takođe, treba otvoriti mogućnost da matrice intervenišu jedna u drugu. Jer, ponavljam, Trg se, kao i strip, stalno rotira. Nema »poslednje kućice« – u tim premeštanjima je i glavna razlika od mansiona. U neku ruku, nije poenta izmaći svaku stabilnu uporišnu tačku u procesu edukacije, već je poenta u tome da nje nema. Edukacijski Mamut je kontingentna Sveta krava Republike znanja, samo je to postao davno, a ljudi kratko žive i još kraće pamte. Ipak, javni prostor ostaje onima koji dolaze.

Narration should avoid unnecessary explanations. What should be made is a matrix of one scene, with important elements brought in and intervention designated. Then proceed to the next scene. More as an invitation than a lecture in the mastering of taught material. During this a borderline between performance instructions and replicas is skipped: it is not clear where a comic begins and ends. Furthermore, a possibility that matrixes intervene one to another must be opened. This since, as I repeat, the Square keeps rotating like the comic. There is no “last box”, and these rearrangements comprise a main difference from the medieval ‘mansions’. In some respect, the main goal is not to dislocate each and every stabile focal point in the educational process. Rather, the point is that there is no such. Educational Mammoth is a contingent Holy Cow of the Republic of Knowledge, and it turned to be so a long ago (people live briefly and their memory is even shorter). However, public space is for those who will come.

Scena 7 – matrica: učitelj-učenik
ulaz>>Mamut: edukacijski mit – potreba za objašnjenjem
proces>>Jacotot: Moram vas podučiti da nemam ničemu da vas podučim
primedba>>vox populi: Pozicija autoriteta je ne(samo)ukidiva
podsticaj 1>>učitelj neznalica: faktor dobre volje – hajde da pokušamo
podsticaj 2>>ljudsko mladunče: Reči koje dete nauči najbolje su one koje uči bez učitelja koji objašnjava, i mnogo pre njega. Sva deca najbolje savladaju ono što nijedan predavač ne može da objasni: maternji jezik. U vreme kad su premladi za instrukcije, gotovo su svi sposobni – bez obzira na rod, socijalne uslove i boju kože – da govore jezikom roditelja.
prepreka>>učenik: pro-fašizam Republike znanja – zavisnost od zavisnosti
željeni izlaz>>promena u sistemu – dehijearhizacija matrice

Scene 7 – matrix: teacher-student
Entrance>>Mammoth: educational myth – a need for explication
process>>Jacotot: I must teach you that I have nothing to teach you.
Remark>>vox populi: Position of authority is non-(self)terminative.
Stimulus 1>> ignorant schoolmaster: factor of goodwill – let’s try
Stimulus 2>> human cub: Words that child masters the best are those learnt without a teacher-explicator, and long before him. All children learn the best what no lecturer can explain: native tongue. While too young to be instructed, almost everyone is capable – regardless of gender, social circumstances and skin colour – to speak the language of parents.
Obstacle>> student: pro-fascism of the Republic of Knowledge – addiction on addiction.
Desirable escape>> change in system – de-hierarchization of matrix.

Scena 11 – matrica: dobra volja kao politički gest
ulaz i izlaz>>učitelj neznalica: izjednačeni – 1 : 1
primedba bez konsekvenci>>učenice i učenici: na ražanj Mamuta!
primedba sa konsekvencom>>vox populi: Ova reč je stigla daleko. Republika Znanja je je bila potresena iz temelja.

Scene 11 – matrix: goodwill as political gesture
Entrance and exit>>ignorant schoolmaster: tied – 1 : 1
remark without consequences>>female and male students: Let’s roast Mammoth!
remark with consequence>>vox populi: A word spread far. The Republic of Knowledge shattered to the ground.

Scena 23 – matrica: objašnjenje→zaglupljivanje
ulaz>>Rancière: Zaglupljivanje postoji kadgod je jedna inteligencija potčinjena drugoj.
primedba>>Stari učitelj: Nisu svi ljudi jednakih inteligencija – prilagođavanje
podsticaj>>neka pronicljiva ptica: Svi ljudi imaju potencijal inteligencije
prepreka>>naučnik: društvena nejednakost – faktor volje za ispoljavanjem inteligencije
željeni izlaz>>intelektualna emancipacija = čin inteligencije koji se pokorava samo sebi (čak i dok se volja pokorava drugoj volji)

Scene 23 – matrix: explanation→stultification
Entrance>>Rancière: Stultification happens each time one intelligence is subjugated to another.
Remark>>Old Schoolmaster: All people do not have equal intelligences – adaptation
Stimulus>>a keen bird: All people have potential of intelligence
Obstacle>>Scientist: Societal inequality – a factor of will to manifest intelligence
Desirable exit>>Intellectual emancipation = act of intelligence that obeys only itself (even as one will obeys another)

Scena 24 – matrica: knjiga-razumevanje
ulaz>>Jacotot: knjiga kao zajedničko mesto
proces>>učenici i učenice: razumeti knjigu bez onoga koji objašnjava – “mnoga znanja”
podsticaj>>činjenica – U glavi Jacotota je iznenadna iluminacija brutalno osvetlila ono što se uzima zdravo za gotovo u svakom sistemu podučavanja: neophodnost objašnjenja.
izlaz 1>>Otkrovenje koje se desilo Jacototu svodi se na sledeće: logika eksplikativnog sistema u Republici znanja mora se oboriti
izlaz 2>>Mamuta izvlače iz Muzeja. Krah Banke Republike znanja.

Scene 24 – matrix: book – understanding
Entrance>>Jacotot: Book as mutual ground
process>>Male and female students: To understand book without an explicator: “multitude of knowledge”
Stimulus>>A fact – In the mind of Jacotot a sudden illumination brutally highlighted what is blindly taken for granted in any system of teaching: the necessity of explication.
Exit 1>>The revelation that came to Jacotot amounts to this: the logic of the explicative system in the Republic of Knowledge had to be overturned.
Exit 2>>Mammoth is dragged from the Museum. The Bank of Republic of Knowledge crashes.

Scena 15 – matrica: Da li mali razume?
ulaz>>Stari učitelj: juridička moć – On ne razume
smer>>ljudsko mladunče: Razumevanje nikada nije više od prevođenja. Nema ničeg skrivenog iza napisane stranice, nema lažnog dna koje iziskuje rad druge inteligencije, nema potrebe za jezikom učitelja, koji može iskazati jezik samog teksta.
podsticaj>>Jacotot: Svako je uradio ovo hiljadu puta u životu…
prepreka>>naučnik: pa ipak, nikome nije palo na pamet da kaže drugome: naučio sam mnoge stvari bez objašnjenja, ja mislim da tako možeš i ti… Niko se nije se usudio da se osloni na ovu činjenicu u podučavanju drugih.
željeni izlaz>>samoedukacija siromašnih

Scene 15 – matrix: Does the little-one understand?
entrance: Old Schoolmaster: juridical power – He doesn’t understand
direction>>human cub: Understanding is never more than translating. There is nothing behind the written page, no double bottom that needs the work of another intelligence, no need for the Master’s language that can re-tell the very language of text.
Stimulus>>Jacotot: Everybody did this at least thousand times during the life...
Obstacle>>Scientist: nonetheless, nobody remembered to tell other: I have learnt many things without explication, I think you could do it too... Nobody dared to rely on this fact while teaching others.
Desirable exit>>Self-education of the poor.

Scena 78 – matrica: učitelj naučnik
ulaz>>Mamut: Kako će iskusni učitelj ikada razumeti da podjednako uspešno može da podučava ono što ne zna kao i ono što zna?
smerovi>>Rancière: Čin učenja se može proizvesti u skladu sa četiri različito kombinovane determinante: od strane emancipatorskog učitelja ili od strane onog koji zaglupljuje, od strane naučenog učitelja ili od strane učitelja neznalice.
izlaz>>promena agensa – učitelj kao facilitator i sparing-partner

Scene 78 – matrix: teacher scientist
Entrance>>Mammoth: How will experienced teacher ever understand that he can alike teach what he knows and what he doesn’t know with success?
directions>>Rancière: Act of learning could be produced according to four differently combined determinants: from emancipatory teacher or stultifying one, from the learned teacher or ignorant one.
Exit>>A change of agens – teacher as facilitator and sparring partner

Scena 60 – matrica: emancipacija
ulaz>>vox populi: Ko emancipuje? – performativ i pitanje samoproklamacije
proces>>Rancière: Da bismo emancipovali neuku osobu, moramo biti emancipovani i mi sami, to jest, moramo biti svesni moći ljudskog uma
izlaz 2>>ulični psi: Ukratko, krug emancipacije se mora započeti.
izlaz 2>>ljudsko mladunče: Ko bi hteo da počne?

Scene 60 – matrix: emancipation
Entrance>>Vox populi: Who emancipates? – performative and the question of self-proclamation
process>>Rancière: In order to emancipate ignorant person, we must be also emancipated: in other words, we must know the power of human mind.
exit 2>>street dogs: In short, a circle of emancipation must be initiated.
exit 2>>human cub: Who would like to start?

*** *** ***
Propozicije za (samo-)obrazovni strip
Propositions for (self-)educational Comic
Autori/Authors: Ana Vujanovic (tekst/txt) i/and Sinisa Ilic (ctrez/drawing);
Publikacija s-o-s projekta i BELEFa za Dokumenta 12 Projekat Magazini, 2007.
sr: http://www.tkh-generator.net/sr/projekti/samoobrazovanjearhivas-o-s-projekat-beograd-2006-2008
Publication of s-o-s project and BELEF for Documenta 12, Magazine Project, 2007
eng: http://www.tkh-generator.net/en/projekti/self-educationarchives-o-s-project-belgrade-2006-2008

NAKED FREEDOM

2010-11-11T01:21:00.001+01:00

video, 19.27 min, 2010

Screenplay and directed by Marina Gržinić and Aina Šmid

Text in the video by Marina Gržinić

Performers: Nika Rozman, Sara Badovinac, Emina Djukič, Dejan Koban, Kobrowsky, Blanka Slana, Katja Škorič and Ugo Ugowsky

Animation: Siniša Ilić

Coproduction: Mladinski center Medvode

Production: CCC, Ljubljana  

* * *

The video “Naked Freedom” that connects Ljubljana, Belgrade, Durham (USA) presents a conceptual political space of engagement that allows for rethinking what local community is. It conceptualizes the possibility of rethinking financial capitalism and its financialization processes that permeate art, the social, the political and the critical discourses. The collective process of making the video “Naked Freedom” is about enactment of social, political and perfomative practices. It is a collective performance for the screen that resonates with performers off screen lives. In Ljubljana an actress and 7 young activists, musicians, poets, members of the Youth Center Medvode, a small town near Ljubljana, discuss capitalism, colonialism, education, and the power of art as a possibility for politics.

In Belgrade, Siniša Ilić, artist and performer, deconstructs violence (from heteronormative to nationalistic) and is a connector between different spaces within the realm of culture, art and activism.

The last part of the video re-questions its locality through a discourse on globality and the EU. It presents an exchange in between Marina Gržinić and Kwame Nimako. They met at the Workshop on Education, Development, Freedom, at Duke University, Durham, USA, organized by the Center for Global studies (25 to 27 February 2010), notably by Walter Mignolo. Kwame Nimako is theoretician from Ghana who lives in Amsterdam, The Netherlands. He is in charge of NiNsee, Amsterdam (The National Institute for the Study of Dutch Slavery and its Legacy).

NEUPOREDIVOSTI. NASTAJANJE SUMNJIVOG STANJA. Tina Gverovic i Sinisa Ilic

2010-09-24T19:19:00.002+02:00

(english text version below)

"Crteži prikazuju korporacijski prostor, institucionalno posmatranje i kontrolu. Prizivaju slike nematerijalnog rada, forme savremenog rada koji se dešava ‘svuda i nigde’. Ruke polagano dodiruju i osećaju tastaturu, kompjuterski miš, ekran, stolicu, kosu… Iako se čini da su likovi zaokupljeni laganim ili na prvi pogled neučinkovitim radom, oni istovremeno deluju ranjivo i u nemogućnosti da prepoznaju svoje delovanje. Iznenadni udari prekidaju i razdiru virtuelni prostor, guraju ga prema nadolazećoj katastrofi. Katastrofa je ovde unutrašnje i spoljašnje, sveprisutno stanje. Katastrofa koju prikazujemo je politička, emotivna, i ona koja će se tek dogoditi."
(T.G. i S.I.)

SVJETLO NA KRAJU EKRANA
Jasna Jakšić

Nematerijalni rad, rad lišen proizvodnog obećanja stvaranja novih, čvrstih, trajnih vrijednosti koje bi u nekom graditeljskom zanosu svijet učinile boljim mjestom, u poželjnim ekonomskim modelima zauzima visoko mjesto. Njegova je rasprostranjenost za interese kulturnih industrija proizvela novu, nomadsku klasu kognitarijata, klasu intelektualnih radnika prepuštenih zakonima interesa, ponude i potražnje. Kao i stoljeće ranije,u nekom drugom ekonomskom kontekstu, prekobrojnost je ona koja osigurava kompetitivnost i kvalitetu u kojoj samo najbolji pobjeđuje. Napuštanje predmetnosti, fiksnog objekta kako u ekonomiji tako i u umjetničkom djelovanju nije tek jednoznačno otvorilo nove mogućnosti iskaza i djelovanja. Nije li se otpor spram fetišizacije umjetničkog objekta izborio za nadomještanje pojma umjetničkog djela daleko fluidnijim pojmom rada u vrijeme kada je nematerijalni rad u velikom stilu stupio na pozornicu kulturnih industrija i polako zatvorio svaku obećanu pukotinu slobode?
Distopijski prostor izbrisanih granica, u kojemu je jedina čvrsta struktura struktura nadzora, ili, korporativne kontrole u radu Tine Gverović i Siniše Ilića nastanjuju nepomični likovi zadubljeni u svjetlost kompjuterskog ekrana, prozora u svijet u obećanom prostoru slobode ili tek medija za proizvodnju nemjesta spajanjem snimki s bezbrojnih nadzornih kamera razasutih diljem svijeta. U distopijskom konstruktu u kojemu je svatko pozvan, ili, preciznije, dužan sudjelovati, uloge promatrača i promatranog ulančane su u odnose koji tvore svijet. Iz su/djelovanja i su/odnosa raste prijetnja prezasićenog prostora, u prividnoj se praznini panično spajaju agorafobija i klaustrofobija, ostavljajući svoje žrtve bez prostora za uzmak. Nadolazeća se katastrofa pomalja iz zgusnutih pukotina Stvarnog, koje prodire u svijet lišen fizičkog napora u kojemu se nitko ne kupa u znoju lica svog. Te napukline navaljuju iz narušene strukture rešetki, organičke simulacije prirode, invazije repetitivnog niza manualnog i prljavog vatrenog oružja ili alatki. Krhki se narativni i deskriptivni elementi bezuspješno nastoje spojiti u cjelinu, ali kao da ih svaki takav pokušaj još više slabi. No kao tračak uzaludne nade uvijek nam ostaje svjetlost ekrana, barem dok je osiguran dotok električne energije.

*NEUPOREDIVOSTI. NASTAJANJE SUMNJIVOG STANJA, je serija radova realizovanih pod istim naslovom, u formi izlozbe u galeriji Nova u Zagrebu, zatim kao zidni crtez i prostorna instalacija u okviru 25 Memorijala Nadezde Petrovic 'Ja sam to sto jesam' u Cacaku (kustosi: Maja Ciric, Una Popovic, Mica Karic i Dusica Drazic), kao umetnicka publikacija i blok u casopisu 'Zivot umjetnosti'. Crtezi u publikaciji su izvedeni flomasterima, olovkom i tusem na papiru. Posle razgovora sa umenticima Ben Cain ih je isekao, promenio im velicine, ponovo ih uredio i pripremio za stampu, on je i autor scenografije izlozbe u galeriji Nova, 2010.

english version>>

THE UNCOMPARABLES. FORMING A SUSPICIOUS STATE. Tina Gverovic & Sinisa Ilic (see images above)

These drawings engage with a corporate space of institutionalized observation and monitoring. The imagery addresses the notion of the immaterial workforce, a form of contemporary work which takes place everywhere and nowhere. Hands are slowly feeling and sensing a keyboard, a mouse, a screen, a chair, hair…
Although the figures might seem to be engaged with light or ineffectual work, at the same time they seem vulnerable and unable to fully articulate their actions. Digital spaces are interrupted with abrupt movements and actions, violently disturbing the virtual and pushing it towards immanent disaster. Disaster here is not solely understood as exclusive to the outside but as an inner and pervasive state. Here there is political disaster, emotional disaster and disaster yet to happen.
(T.G. & S.I.)

LIGHT AT THE END OF THE SCREEN
Jasna Jaksic

Immaterial labour – removed from the production system that creates new, firm, lasting values that would make the world a better place – occupies a high position in desirable economic models. Its manifest presence creates a new class of nomadic cognizance in the culture industry, a class of intellectual labourers left to the laws of interest, demand and supply. Like in the previous century’s different economic context, surplus secures competitiveness and quality and only the best wins. Abandoning materiality and fixed object in both economy and art did provided new opportunities for expression and action in multiple ways. Hasn’t the resistance against fetishization of art object succeeded in replacing the concept of artwork with a much more fluid concept of work at the exact time when immaterial labour became predominant in culture industries, slowly shutting down every promised path to its freedom? The dystopian space of erased borders in which the only remaining structure is the structure of surveillance, or corporate control is -in the work of Tina Gverovic and Sinisa Ilic- inhabited by motionless characters who appear to be focused on the light of the computer screen, a window into the world of promised freedom or a medium for the production of non-places which are developed through the interconnection of footage from security camera systems all over the world. In such a dystopian environment, to which everyone is invited, or more precisely, to which we are obliged to participate, positions of the observer and the observed are linked into relations that create the world. From co/action and co/relation the threat of a saturated space grows. In spaces that are seemingly empty, states of agoraphobia and claustrophobia leave their victims without any possibility to escape. Immanent disaster emerges from condensed cracks in the Real. These cracks then penetrate a world deprived of physical effort in which no one can feel the sweat on their brow. The cracks bulge out from damaged metal bar structures and organic simulations of nature amongst invasions of a repetitive string of manual and ‘dirty’ weapons or tools. Fragile narrative and descriptive elements unsuccessfully attempt to form a whole, but each attempt makes them even more fragile. But, as a glimmer of useless hope, we’re left with the light of the computer screen, at least as long as the electricity flow is provided.

*THE UNCOMPARABLES. FORMING A SUSPICIOUS STATE. is consisted of several works under this title, realised in 2010, as an exhibition project in Nova Gallery in Zagreb, as wall/space drawing/installation as a part of 25 Nadezda Petrovic Memorial 'I Am What I Am' (curators: Maja Ciric, Una Popovic, Mica Karic & Dusica Drazic), as art publication and part of 'Zivot umjetnosti' magazine. Drawings in publication in their original form are done in felt pen, pencils and ink on paper. The drawings have been resized, cropped and rearanged by Ben Cain after conversation with artists. Cain also did set design for the show in Nova Gallery.

∗ Notes 2008-2010

2010-09-10T03:08:00.007+02:00

(published in Uncomparables, forming a Suspicious State 2, publication)

Tuesday*

He deleted twenty pages of the text which he had been working on for a month. When he realized what he had done, he got up from the table and opened the window. The opening of the window points to the possibility that for a moment he had run out of air. The lost text became bigger than everything present. He opened the window and looked down the street. A woman was sitting on the bench across the street and smoking. With her head lowered she was blowing smokes. She could be sitting like that for days without raising her head.

How to make the body raise the head?

The text he accidentally deleted he will never again be able to write like it was written. He is left with partial memory of some fragments of the text. All those things that seemed good as he was writing them, he forgot. There is nothing left. A man exits on a desolate and demolished stop and Genoa cyclone is threatening from the sky. That is the only image that remained after the text was irreversibly lost. And a demolished house that is found on the way. Maybe the text couldn’t handle that many ruins.

A few hours later, after he forgot what had happened, he again stood at his window, but the woman was no longer on the bench.

Wednesday

In the afternoon a man tried to jump off the bridge. He stepped over the fence and stood with his back turned towards the river. Both river-banks were covered with snow that had been falling for the last few days. The police stopped the traffic on the bridge and put fences around the place, not knowing what else to do. A man with short hair was holding himself to the fence with one hand and waved with the other holding a cell-phone. He had demands. One of the demands was to have his cell-phone, whose battery died, charged. He wanted to let somebody know something, maybe explain why he was standing on the outer side of the fence and threatening to throw himself into the river. People passed by the scene and some of them stopped. It was the time of day when people return from work. For some, fatigue is larger than curiosity. A mother of two children, whose car was trapped in the crowd on the bridge, placed her children in front of the man who wanted to jump off and took a picture of the whole scene with her cell-phone. Children in the foreground. Man who wants to jump off in the middleground, and dirty sky and tops of naked trees in the background. The scene is completely flat. The layers are sequenced one after the other, in a line, from left to right. The mother bends her knees, wanting to put everything in one frame. If somebody were to ask her, she probably couldn’t remember when exactly it came to her to do something like that.

Later: someone heard somebody saying the man who wanted to jump off should be helped to do so. Some other man with a camera in his hand filmed it, and someone else edited it. After it finished the circle of its media path, the news of the man who wanted to jump off, but was saved when they grabbed him by the hand, was actualized in the reaction of others to someone’s attempt to throw them self off the bridge. From the reaction of others to the action, it becomes clear that society is on the way to its end.

Somebody introduced this thought as a conclusion.

He already sees them eating each other.

Monday

It is apparent at first sight that he is not comfortable in his own shoes. He either hides his feet or puts them under the chair he’s sitting on, or tries to stand so that the view of his feet is always obstructed. He notices that men here have large feet, and accordingly, their stance looks somewhat harder. It is hard to determine a right-wing radical in relation to one who is not. If he was to be really honest, he would have to conclude that there isn’t a difference in the shape of the head or the size of hands. Next to him on the city bus stood a young man with a Greek profile and a thin white neck. If a Greek profile suggested courage or wisdom, a thin neck could only mean malice. He was careful not to meet the young man’s gaze. He was pretending to look out the window of the 706 bus at the War Island and the slow, heavy, spilled river.

Thursday

My language is becoming like unkempt hair that is impossible to comb through. That is what Jelinek says. He feels the same. His language is starting to expand, adding parts according to its own need. Sentence structures, words and orthography that he learned are mixed with those he brings from his travels. Mixed language encourages unkempt thought. What if, at one point he won’t be able to name the language he speaks? That could easily happen. Can a man use a language that is impossible to name?

Friday

During winter days, Walter Benjamin lies for entire days in his Paris room.

He doesn’t go out.

He didn’t go out.

Yesterday košava was blowing.

Tuesday

He had a dream of T.G. i S.I.’s exhibition. A dream without a conotation. Or a very clear conotation. He’s not sure. First, in the papers he sees pictures from the gallery that show that the exhibition that opened just a few days ago was taken apart, that drawings have been taken off the walls, put on the floor and covered with nylon, as the workers are again painting the gallery walls in white. Then in the dream, he finds himself in the gallery whose pictures he had just seen in the papers and convinces himself it is really so. Drawings are lying on the floor covered with nylon; workers are painting. The whiteness of walls is, however, astonishing. Walls so white he had never seen. He’s trying to convince himself that what the workers had done was legitimate. In the drawings, the world has already started to fall apart. Somebody tells him that they must wait for the walls to dry and then they will put everything in its place.

Friday

He saw a young Franciscan marching down the street, with each step inadvertently revealing Diesel sneakers hidden under his habit. Habits are here to conceal the beauty of the body and smaller details. With the young Franciscan it didn’t manage to hide anything.

He thought: what a waste of time.

Monday

He avoids conversations about time.

He avoids conversations about life.

He avoids conversations about the past.

He avoids conversations about the future.

He avoids conversations about fears.

He avoids conversations about himself.

He avoids conversations about dreams.

He avoids conversations about work.

He avoids conversations about expectations.

Wednesday
Author = an individual who begins to write a text which will develop into a literary work.

The state is generally bad.

Thursday

In the evening he goes out. Dusk makes him almost blind. He doesn’t recognize people who are coming towards him. He feels hunger. The described situation causes an unclear fear in him. When he turns from the main street into an empty passage, in which there are only a florist and a sex shop with windows covered with posters, he tries to convince himself that he is being chased. Nobody knows his name. He didn’t do anything wrong, but to the mind an inexplicable need to run is present. As he’s going through the passage, he’s trying to find a place where he could hide, a niche in the wall, a hole covered with a board, an entrance into a building. He doesn’t find anything. The world is completely aligned; there isn’t a place to hide.

Sunday

A product doesn’t seem to happen. He is so focused on the process that the product simply evaporates. He can’t let something like this happen today. Everything around him is letting him know that he’s doing it incorrectly. Despite the warnings, the product is still not here.

Saturday

At the entrance to the clinic they ask him to give them his personal information. Out of all the questions, the hardest for him to answer is the one about his occupation. Even if he succeeds in forcing himself to say that he’s a writer, until now he hasn’t been able to do it without

Monday

Lately he’s been thinking about utopia. He doesn’t know anything about it. On the way to the city’s center he passes by the window of a bookstore and every day he sees a hard-bound book entitled History of Utopia. Despite his belief that precisely the topic of utopia would be of great benefit in working on the piece of text he’s not really sure what to do with, he’s still not entering the bookstore.

He thinks about that text as a play, although in the text there is nothing that would call for communication. Of any kind. Still he thinks of it as a play. And he thinks that utopia will save the day.

Unimportant.

Monday

The rural countryside gets calm faster than the rest of the world. The night begins to fall at the same time from all sides of the world. Little time is left to close up all the hens and rabbits, to lock the back entrance into the house, to close the front gate. The recently installed street lamps are almost twenty meters high but more than half of them are not working.

Friday

He enters the room. He knows exactly what he needs but he can’t remember what he needs it for. He takes the thing in his hand, turns it around a few times, and then returns it to the place he took it from. He sees another thing he had already forgotten about. He doesn’t remember where and when he bought it. The thing is here, he recognizes it, even today he would decide to get it. Nontheless, he forgot about it. He takes it in his hands. Then he returns it. The same with a few other things. The more of them he takes in his hands, the more of them he’ll recognize. He puts back all of the things in their place and leaves the apartment. He remembers that three days ago he arranged a meeting. It is why he even entered the room. The room is a way to the exit of the apartment.

Monday

He entered the University building. He ran into only a few people in the empty hallways. It was already after 9 in the morning. He moved towards lecture hall number seven. He hesitated and then opened the door. The sweet smell of human breath hit him in the face. The lecture hall was overflowing with students. All the windows were shut. People were sitting crowded into the narrow benches. Nobody even noticed when he walked in. He stood on the side and for a while followed what was going on. Somebody gave a speech after which the whole hall clapped. Then somebody else took the microphone. Someone noted that this is the ideal time for a student revolution because the dean had traveled to Brazil. He’s laying on Copacabana. He fell asleep in the sun.

Wednesday

The apartment turned into a fortress. Everything he owns he brought into the apartment. He arranged the things so that they’re not in the way when he’s passing through and that they’re easily reachable. He marked the content of the boxes with labels. Everything he owns is within his reach. When everything was finally in its place, he realized that he doesn’t need three quarters of those things.

Thursday

A photograph shows.

Sunday

Books on the desk:

Doris Lessing: The Golden Notebook

Terezia Mora: Day In Day Out

Nadine Gordimer: My Son’s Story

J. M. G. Le Clezio: The Interrogation

Peter Handke: A Moment of True Feeling

Peter Handke: The Goalie's Anxiety at the Penalty Kick

Judith Butler: Bodies That Matter

Max Frisch: Gantenbein

Max Frisch: Bluebeard

Max Frisch: Sketchbook 1966 – 1971

Max Friscx: Sketchbook 1946 – 1949

Martin Walser: Runaway Horse

Lars Saabye Christensen: The Half Brother

Michel Foucault: Knowledge and Power

Michel Foucault: The Order of Things

David Foster Wallace: Infinite Jest

Friday

He wants to share with somebody:

That Workers’ Day seems more festive than other days.

That he forgot to go shopping and his refrigerator is empty.

That stores are closed.

Friday

After an eye surgery, the world seems to be an obstacle course. Everything he passes by he names so that he would be completely sure that it is not going to find itself in his way again as an obstacle. Door. Table. Chair. Again table. Bed. Shoes. Mirror. Man. Woman. Child. Dog. The world is blurry and his demands are getting bigger. He got a sample of the world from Gerhard Richter’s painting. Instead of clearly outlined eyes, nose and mouth, what appears are stained residues of melancholy. This state will last for at least another month. It takes that long for peeled corneal epithelium to regenerate.

Wednesday

It should be insisted on the process of work because exposure, recording, and presentation of the process provoke the ideology of capitalism, which neglects the process and insists on the finished product that it can offer, distribute and eventually sell. Instead of talking about the finished work, that which preceded it should constantly be talked about – telling of stories about the time before the ending. That way the ending is also partly postponed.

Monday

In the dark auditorium, he can barely discern the man next to him. Light on the stage is deceiving his eye; he can barely see. At one point he starts to search for the meaning of what he sees on the stage. He fell into a trap that the world alone fell into. The search for meaning opened Pandora’s box. The world can’t be saved. The search for meaning is actually the need to understand. Again, there is a double reason for understanding. It is Pagan belief that a man can reign over what he understands, and there is a need to create concrete matter from abstract de-matter. That which can not be named is impossible to sell. That which can not be sold is outside of the value system. The naming is needed to become a part of the system of capitalist profitability. Always again.

Tuesday

A man is a being that slowly develops, just as slowly man’s awareness of boredom develops.

Saturday

He is reading Dürrenmatt. Commissioner Berlach is dying of stomach cancer. But before that, in the last scene, he devours, as follows: sardines, red shrimps, cucumber salad, peas, tomatoes, heaps of mayonnaise and eggs, cold steaks, chicken meat, salmon, bread, pâté, pork, mushrooms, red wine, veal cutlets, rice, french fries, lettuce, champagne, cheese, radishes, pickles and leek.

Tuesday

List of works that end with an open sentence:

Joyce’s Ulysess, The Broom of the System by David Foster Wallace. Bach’s Art of the Fugue.

(continue the sequence)

Sunday

He found on You Tube reconstructions of the biggest plane accidents in the history of commercial air transport. He doesn’t feel anything towards the solutions that the reconstructions lead to at the end of each episode. What holds his attention is the process of reconstruction. He is sure that he could find the reason why the concept of reconstruction moved from the field of criminalistics and diagnostics to the field of art. Reconstruction is used as a method at the moment in the art process when thinking about things starts to dominate the concept of production. Reconstruction is the reflection on the process, in place of the process itself.

Reconstruction is the analysis of progress and relationships towards history.

Reconstruction is an attempt to find mistakes and their analysis.

Reconstruction is doubt in progress.

Reconstruction is an attempt to undermine capitalism which, to survive, always needs a new concept. He can’t escape the thought that sometime before (in a previous life) he possibly witnessed one such accident. The crashing of an airplane into the ground, he had to have seen before.

Sunday

There isn’t a way better than this.

Monday

Somebody took a jellyfish out of the sea and left it in the sun. Fathers and children gathered. None of them were brave enough to touch the jellyfish. Somebody said: yuck! When they split up and forgot, the jellyfish melted.

A time volume of three months is impossible to mark as anything other than three months.

Again the feeling that everything had already ended and that everything passed without us.

Monday

In a conversation, he comes to the conclusion that the economic power of an individual in the 1970s was so great that the Americans had to produce a jumbo-jet.

Friday

As a present, he got a glass snow globe on a black ceramic stand, in which sits a black ziggurat and around it are swimming shiny black pieces of the rest of the world. Like the ashes of the burnt Tower of Babel. He can look at it for hours and not connect the beauty he sees with any known thing, with any association. Snow globe? Who thought of something like that?

Saturday

The Tower of Babel wasn’t burnt down. Just never finished.

Friday

There needs to be found a way to break the formalism in the recording of chronology. Otherwise, it is maintaining the passivity of the successiveness. He is more and more convinced that things don’t happen continuously and that there is very little connection between cause and consequence.

Friday

A photograph of West Point in Liberia is in the newspaper. The worst slum in the world. People urinate and defecate in the street and on the beach. Women sell themselves for one American dollar. To a careful observer, details in the photographs reveal that everything is under the colonial patronage of America and Europe. Postcolonialism. We realized everything on time and still nothing good happened.

Saturday

Rural countryside. The whole day the north wind has been hitting the slope of the roof. Every now and then, he stands in the window and looks at the fields behind the houses. He just can’t notice the difference between then and now. Big plates of frozen old snow are covering the fields like tailored crusty sheets. Afternoon light stays the longest on them. The dark scene is not seen as a sight of poor quality, but as the absence of light. He hears voices from the kitchen. In the house only two rooms are heated, the kitchen and his study.

Friday

The trip to Vienna interrupted by a transfer due to the repair of the train tracks between Maribor and Graz.

We can not be angry at our own era without getting hurt at the same time.

Tunnel.

Sunday

The 65^th anniversary of victory against fascism is marked with a parade in the Moscow Red Square. In the daily newspaper they made a letter mistake and instead of fascism they wrote fascisom. Airplanes are flying over domes of St. Basil. Vehicles carrying an intercontinental ballistic missile Topol-M are passing in front of St. Basil. A veteran in a WW2 uniform is standing in the crowd and talking on a cell-phone that is tied to his belt with a metal chain.

Monday

He is aware that these are not real living conditions.

* * *

(Translated by Isabella Francesca Germek and Sandra Šević)

* Goran Ferčec, Notes 2008-2010

∗ Bilješke 2008-2010., Goran Ferčec

2010-09-10T03:05:00.004+02:00

(objavljeno u publikaciji Neusporedivosti. Formiranje sumnjivog stanja, 2)

Utorak∗
Izbrisao je dvadeset stranica teksta na kojem je radio mjesec dana. Kad je shvatio što je napravio, ustao je od stola i otvorio prozor. Otvaranje prozora upućuje na mogućnost da je na trenutak ostao bez zraka. Izgubljeni tekst je postao veći od svega prisutnog. Otvorio je prozor i pogledao niz ulicu. Neka je žena sjedila na klupi preko puta ulice i pušila. Spuštene glave ispuhivala je dimove. Mogla je sjediti tako još danima bez da podigne glavu.
Kako natjerati tijelo da podigne glavu?
Tekst koji je slučajno izbrisao više nikada neće moći napisati onako kako je bio napisan. Ostalo mu je djelomično sjećanje na neke komade teksta. Sve one stvari koje su mu se, dok ih je pisao, učinile dobrim, zaboravio je. Nije ostalo ništa. Muškarac izlazi na nekoj pustoj i razrušenoj stanici a s neba prijeti genevska ciklona. To je jedina slika koja je ostala nakon što je tekst nepovratno izgubljen. I neka razrušena kuća koja se nađe na putu. Možda tekst nije mogao podnijeti toliko ruševina.
Nekoliko sati kasnije, nakon što je već zaboravio što se dogodilo, ponovo je stajao na prozoru ali žene više nije bilo na klupi.

Srijeda
Neki je čovjek poslijepodne pokušao skočiti s mosta. Prekoračio je ogradu i stao leđima okrenut rijeci. Obje strane obale bile su pokrivene ostacima snijega koji je padao zadnjih nekoliko dana. Policija je zaustavila promet na mostu i ogradila mjesto ne znajući što drugo napraviti. Muškarac kratke kose jednom rukom držao se za ogradu mosta dok je drugom mahao držeći u njoj mobitel. Imao je zahtjeve. Jedan od zatjeva bilo je da mu napune mobitel koji se ispraznio. Želio je nekome nešto javiti, možda objasniti zašto stoji s vanjske strane ograde mosta i prijeti da će se baciti u rijeku. Pored mjesta akcije prolazili su ljudi i neki od njih zastali. Vrijeme je povratka s posla. Nekima je umor veći od znatiželje. Majka s dvoje djece čiji je auto ostao zarobljen u gužvi na mostu, namjestila je djecu ispred muškarca koji se želio baciti, i cijelu scenu fotografirala mobitelom. Djeca u prvom planu. Muškarac koji se želi baciti u drugom, a prljavo nebo i vrhovi golih stabala u trećem. Scena je sasvim plošna. Planovi se nižu jedan iza drugog, poredani po vrsti, s lijeva na desno. Majka savija koljena u želji da sve strpa u kadar. Kad bi je netko pitao, vjerojatno se ne bi mogla sjetiti kad joj je točno palo na pamet da bi mogla učiniti tako nešto.
Kasnije: netko je čuo nekoga kako kaže da bi muškarcu koji se želi baciti, trebalo pomoći da to i učini. Neki drugi čovjek s kamerom u ruci je to snimio, neki treći je to montirao. Nakon što završi krug svoje medijske putanje, vijest o čovjeku koji se želi baciti, a kojeg su ipak spasili uhvativši ga za ruku, ostvaruje se tek u reakciji drugih na pokušaj nečijeg bacanja s mosta. Iz reakcije ljudi na čin, postaje jasno da je društvo na putu prema svom kraju.
Netko je tu misao iznio kao zaključak.
On već vidi kako se međusobno jedu.

Ponedjeljak
Ono što je na prvi pogled očigledno jest da se ne on ne osjeća ugodno u svojim cipelama. Noge ili skriva ili ih podvlači ispod stolice na kojoj sjedi ili pokušava stajati tako da pogled na njegova stopala uvijek bude ometen. Primjećuje da muškarci ovdje imaju velika stopala, pa shodno tome i njihovo stajanje izgleda nekako čvršće. Teško je procijeniti radikala desničara u odnosnu na onoga koji to nije. Kad bi baš bio iskren, morao bi zaključiti da nema razlike u obliku glave ili veličini ruku. Pored njega je u gradskom autobusu stajao neki mladić grčkog profila i tankog bijelog vrata. Ako je grčki profil sugerirao hrabrost ili mudrost, tanak je vrat mogao značiti samo zlobu. Pazio je da mu se pogled ne susretne s mladićevim. Pravio se da gleda kroz prozor autobusa 706 na Ratno ostrvo i sporu, tešku, razlivenu rijeku.

Četvrtak
Moj jezik postaje poput raščupane kose koju je nemoguće očešljati. Tako kaže Jelinek. I njemu se tako čini. Njegov se jezik počinje širiti nadograđujući djelove prema vlastitoj potrebi. Miješaju se rečenične konstrukcije, riječi i pravopis koje je naučio, s onima koje donosi s putovanja. Mješoviti jezik potiče na raščupanu misao. Što ako u jednom trenutku više neće biti u stanju imenovati jezik kojim govori. To bi se vrlo lako moglo dogoditi. Može li se čovjek koristiti jezikom kojeg je nemoguće imenovati?

Petak
Za zimskih dana Walter Benjamin cijele dane leži u svojoj pariškoj sobi.
Ne izlazi.
Nije izlazio.
Jučer je puhala košava.

Utorak
Sanjao je izložbu T.G. i S.I. San bez konotacije. Ili vrlo jasne konotacije. Nije siguran. Najprije u novinama ugleda fotografije iz galerije koje prikazuju da je izložba koja je otvorena prije samo nekoliko dana, rastavljena, da su crteži skinuti sa zidova, položeni na pod i prekriveni najlonom, dok radnici zidove galerije ponovo kreče u bijelo. Zatim se u snu nađe u galeriji čije je fotografije vidio u novinama i uvjeri se da je uistinu tako. Crteži leže na podu prekriveni najlonom, radnici kreče. Bjelina zidova, međutim, začudna je. Toliko bijele zidove nikada nije vidio. Pokušava uvjeriti se da je legitimno to što su radnici napravili. Na crtežima se svijet već počeo raspadati. Netko mu kaže da treba pričekati da se zidovi osuše i onda će sve stvari moći vratiti na svoje mjesto.

Petak
Vidio je mladog franjevca kako korača ulicom i svakim korakom nesvjesno otkriva Diesel tenisice skrivene pod habitom. Habit je tu zato da bi sakrivao ljepotu tijela i sitnije detalje. Kod mladog franjevca nije uspjela sakriti ništa.
Pomislio je, kakvo gubljenje vremena.

Ponedjeljak
Izbjegava razgovore o vremenu.
Izbjegava razgovore o životu.
Izbjegava razgovore o prošlosti.
Izbjegava razgovore o budućnosti.
Izbjegava razgovore o strahovima.
Izbjegava razgovore o sebi.
Izbjegava razgovore o snovima.
Izbjegava razgovore o radu.
Izbjegava razgovore o očekivanjima.

Srijeda
Autor = pojedinac koji počinje pisati tekst iz kojeg će nastati djelo.
Stanje je generalno loše.

Četvrtak
Navečer izlazi u grad. Sumrak ga čini gotovo slijepim. Ljude koji mu idu u susret ne prepoznaje. Osjeća glad. Opisana situacija izazove u njemu nejasni strah. Kad s glavne ulice skrene u neki pusti prolaz u kojem se nalaze samo jedna cvjećarna i sexyshop obljepljenih izloga, pokuša se uvjeriti da ga proganjaju. Nitko mu ne zna ime. Ništa nije skrivio, ali postoji razumu neshvatljiva potreba za bijegom. Dok ide prolazom pokušava pronaći neko mjesto gdje bi se mogao sakriti, neku nišu u zidu, jamu prekrivenu daskom, ulaz u haustor. Ne nalazi ništa. Svijet je potpuno poravnan, nema mjesta za skrivanje.

Nedjelja
Nikako da se dogodi produkt. Toliko je usmjeren na proces da produkt jednostavno ispari. Danas si tako nešto ne može dopustiti. Sve oko njega daje mu na znanje da radi krivo. Unatoč upozorenjima, produkta i dalje nema.

Subota
Na ulazu u kliniku traže ga da im kaže osobne podatke. Od svega mu je najteže odgovoriti na pitanje o zanimanju. Ako i uspije prisiliti se odgovoriti da je pisac, do sada to jos nikada nije uspio učiniti bez

Ponedjeljak
U posljednje vrijeme razmišlja u utopiji. Ništa o tome ne zna. Dok prolazi pored izloga knjižare na putu prema centru, svakog dana ponovo vidi tvrdo ukoričenu knjigu naslova Povijest utopije. Unatoč tome što trenutno vjeruje da bi mu upravo tema utopije bila od velike koristi u radu na komadu teksta s kojim nije siguran što napraviti, ipak ne ulazi u knjižaru.
O tom tekstu misli kao o drami, premda u tekstu nema ničega što bi pozivalo na komunikaciju. Bilo koje vrste. Ipak o njemu misli kao o drami. I misli da će utopija spasiti stvar.
Nevažno.

Ponedjeljak
Provincija se umiri brže od ostatka svijeta. Noć počne padati istovremeno sa svih strana svijeta. Ostaje malo vremena da se zatvore kokoši i zečevi, da se zaključa stražnji ulaz u kuću, da se zatvori ulazna kapija. Nedavno postavljene ulične svjetiljke visoke su skoro dvadeset metara ali ih više od pola ne radi.

Petak
Ulazi u sobu. Zna točno što treba ali ne može sjetiti se za što mu to treba. Uzima stvar u ruke, okrene je nekoliko puta, zatim vrati na mjesto s kojeg ju je uzeo. Ugleda drugu stvar na koju je već zaboravio. Ne sjeća se kad ju je kupio i gdje. Stvar je tu, prepoznaje ju, i danas bi se odlučio za nju. Ipak, zaboravio je na nju. Uzima je u ruke. Zatim vrati. I tako još nekoliko stvari. Što ih više uzme u ruke, više će ih prepoznati. Sve stvari vrati na mjesto i izađe iz stana. Sjeti se da je još prije tri dana dogovorio sastanak. Zbog toga je i ušao u sobu. Soba je put prema izlazu iz stana.

Ponedjeljak
Ušao je z gradu Filozofskog fakulteta. Na praznim hodnicima sreo je tek nekoliko ljudi. Već je prošlo devet sati. Krenuo je prema dvorani broj sedam. Okljevao je, a onda otvorio vrata. Udario ga je u lice slatki miris ljudskog daha. Dvorana je bila prepuna studenata. Svi prozori bili su zatvoreni. Ljudi su sjedili nagurani u uske klupe. Nitko nije ni primjetio kad je ušao. Stao je sa strane i neko vrijeme pratio što se događa. Netko je održao govor a nakon toga cijela dvorana je zapljeskala. Zatim je netko drugi uzeo mikrofon. Netko je napomenuo da je ovo idealno vrijeme za studensku revoluciju jer je dekan otputovao u Brazil. Leži na Copacabani. Zaspao je na suncu.

Srijeda
Stan se pretvorio u utvrdu. Sve što posjeduje unio je u stan. Stvari je složio tako da ne smetaju dok prolazi i da se lako može do njih. Naljepnicama je označio sadržaj kutija. Sve što posjeduje nadohvat mu je ruke. Kad je sve konačno bilo na svome mjestu, shvatio je da mu tri četvrtine tih stvari ne treba.

Četvrtak
Fotografija prikazuje.

Nedjelja
knjige na radnome stolu:
Doris Lessing: Zlatna bilježnica
Terezia Mora: Dan za danom
Nadine Gordimer: Priča mog sina
J. M. G. Le Clezio: The Interrogation
Peter Handke: Trenutak pravog osjećaja
Peter Handke: Strah golmana pred jedanaestercem
Judith Butler: Tela koja nešto znače
Max Frisch: Recimo da mi je ime Gantenbein
Max Frisch: Plavobradi
Max Frisch: Dnevnik 1966 – 1971
Max Friscx: Dnevnik 1946 – 1949
Martin Walser: Odbjegli konj
Lars Saabye Christensen: Polubrat
Michel Foucault: Znanje i moć
Michel Foucault: Riječi i stvari
David Foster Wallace: Infinite Jest

Petak
Htio bi s nekim podijeliti:
Da mu se praznik rada čini svečanijim od ostalih dana.
Da je zaboravio obaviti kupovinu a frižider mu je prazan.
Da su prodavaonice zatvorene.

Petak
Nakon operacije očiju, svijet se čini kao poligon pun prepreka. Sve pored čega prolazi imenuje da bi bio potpuno siguran da mu se to neće ponovo naći na putu kao prepreka. Vrata. Stol. Stolica. Ponovo stol. Krevet. Cipele. Ogledalo. Muškarac. Žena. Dijete. Pas. Svijet je mutan a njegovi zahtjevi sve veći. Dobio je uzorak svijeta sa slike Gerharda Richtera. Umjesto jasno ocrtanih očiju, nosa i usta, ono što nazire umrljani su ostaci melankolije. To stanje trajat će još namanje mjesec dana. Toliko je potrebno da se obnovi oguljeni epitel rožnice.

Srijeda
Treba inzistirati na procesualnosti rada jer otkrivanje, bilježenje i prezentiranje procesa provocira ideologiju kapitalizma koji zanemaruje procesualnost i inzistira na gotovom proizvodu koji može ponuditi, distribuirati i na koncu prodati. Umjesto o gotovom radu neprestano treba govoriti o onome što mu je prethodilo – pričati priče o vremenu prije svršetka. Tako onda i svršetak bude djelomično odgođen.

Ponedjeljak
U mračnom gledalištu jedva nazire čovjeka pored sebe. Svjetlo na sceni vara mu oko, jedva gleda. U nekom trenutku počne tragati za značenjem onoga što vidi na sceni. Upao je zamku u koji je upao i sam svijet. Potraga za značenjem otvorila je pandorinu kutiju. Svijetu nema spasa. Potreba za značenjem zapravo je potreba da se razumije. Razumijevanje opet ima dvostruki razlog. Pogansko vjerovanje da čovjek onim što razumije može i vladati, i potreba da se od apstraktne dematerije stvori konkretna materija. Ono što se ne može imenovati, nemoguće je ni prodati. Ono što se ne može prodati van je sustava vrijednosti. Treba imenovati da bi postalo djelom sustava kapitalističke isplativosti. Uvijek ponovo.

Utorak
Čovjek je biće koje se sporo razvija pa se jednako tako spori razvija i čovjekova svijest o dosadi.

Subota
Čita Dürrenmatta. Komesar Berlach umire od raka želuca. Ali prije toga, u posljednjoj sceni, naždere se, redom: sardina, crvenih rakova, salate od krastavaca, graška, paradajza, brda majoneze i jaja, hladnih odrezaka, pilećeg mesa, lososa, kruha, paštete, svinjskog mesa, pečuraka, crvenog vina, telećih kotleta, riže, pomfrita, zelene salate, šampanjca, sira, rotkvica, kiselih krastavaca i poriluka.

Utorak
Lista djela koja završavaju otvorenom rečenicom:
Joyceov Ulysess, The Broom of the System Davida Fostera Wallacea. Bachova Umjetnost fuge.

(nastaviti niz)

Nedjelja
Pronašao je na You tube-u rekonstrukcije najvećih zrakoplovnih nesreća u povijesti komercijalnog avioprijevoza. Nema nikakav odnos prema rješenjima do kojih na kraju svake epizode dovode rekonstrukcije. Ono što mu održava pažnju sam je postupak rekonstrukcije. Siguran je da bi mogao pronaći razlog zbog kojeg je koncept rekonstrukcije iz područja kriminalistike i dijagnostike prešao u područje umjetnosti. Rekonstrukcija se uzima kao metoda u trenutku kad u umjetničkom postupku mišljenje o stvarima počinje dominirati nad konceptom proizvodnje. Rekonstrukcija je promišljanje postupka na mjestu postupka samog.
Rekonstrukcija je analiza napretka i odnosa prema povijesti.
Rekonstrukcija je pokušaj pronalaženja grešaka i njihove analize.
Rekonstrukcija je sumnja u napredak.
Rekonstrukcija je pokušaj podrivanja kapitalizma koji, da bi preživio, uvijek treba novi koncep.
Ne može se oteti dojmu da je nekada ranije (u prošlome životu) možda svjedočio jednoj takvoj nesreći. Udaranje zrakoplova o zemlju morao je vidjeti već ranije.

Nedjelja
Ne postoji način bolji od ovog.

Ponedjeljak
Netko je iz mora izvukao meduzu i ostavio je na suncu. Okupili su se očevi i djeca. Nitko od njih nije bio dovoljno hrabar da dotakne meduzu. Netko je rekao: fuj! Kad su se razišli i zaboravili, meduza se istopila.
Vremensku zapreminu od tri mjeseca nemoguće je označiti drugačije osim kao tri mjeseca.
Ponovo osjećaj da je sve već završilo i da je sve prošlo bez nas.

Ponedjeljak
U nekom razgovoru dolazi do zaključka da je ekonomska moć pojedinca sedamdesetih godina 20. st. bila toliko velika da su amerikanci morali proizvesti jumbo-jet.

Petak
Dobio je na poklon snježnu staklenu kuglu na crnom keramičkom postolju, u kojoj stoji crni zigurat a oko njega plivaju sjajni crni komadići ostatka svijeta. Poput pepela spaljene Babilonske kule. Može je gledati satima a da ljepotu koju vidi ne poveže ni s jednom poznatom stvari, ni s jednom asocijacijom.
Snježna kugla? Kome je na pamet moglo pasti nešto tako?

Subota
Kula Babilonska nije bila spaljena. Samo nikad završena.

Petak
Treba pronaći način da se razbije formalizam u bilježenju kronologije. U suprotnome, ono zadržava pasivnost sukcesivnog. Sve je uvjereniji da se stvari ne događaju kontinuirano i vrlo je malo veze između uzroka i posljedice.

Petak
U novinama fotografija mjesta West point u Liberiji. Najgori slam na svijetu. Ljudi obavljaju veliku i malu nuždu po ulici i plaži. Žene se prodaju za jedan američki dolar. Pažljivom gledatelju detalji na fotografijama otkrivaju da je sve pod kolonijalnim pokroviteljstvom Amerike i Europe. Postkolonijalizam. Sve smo shvatili na vrijeme a ipak se nije dogodilo ništa dobro.

Subota
Provincija. Cijelog dana sjeverni vjetar udara u kosinu krova. Svako malo stane uz prozor i gleda u polja iza kuća. Nikako ne može primijetiti razliku između nekad i sad. Velike ploče smrzlog starog snijega pokrivaju polja poput iskrojenih skorenih plahti. Poslijepodnevno svijetlo najduže ostaje na njima. Mračnu scenu čovjek ne vidi kao prizor loše kvalitete, već kao nedostatak svjetla. Čuje glasove iz kuhinje. U kući se griju samo dvije prostorije, kuhinja i njegova radna soba.

Petak
Put do Beča prolazi prekinut jednim presjedanjem zbog popravka pruge između Maribora i Graza.
Ne možemo se ljutiti na vlastito doba a da pri tom sami ne stradamo.
Tunel.

Nedjelja
U Moskvi se paradom na Crvenom trgu obilježava 65. godišnjica pobjede nad fašizmom. U dnevnim novinama napravili su slovnu grešku i umjesto fašizmom napisali fašizomom. Avioni preljeću iznad kupola svetog Vasilija. Ispred svetog Vasilija prolaze vozila s interkontinentalnim balističkim projektilom Topolj M. Veteran u uniformi iz drugog svjetskog rata u stoji u masi i razgovara na mobitel koji mu je metalnim lancem svezan za pojas.

Ponedjeljak
Svjestan je da ovo nisu realni uvjeti života.

* * *
∗ Goran Ferčec, Bilješke 2008-2010.

VOX BOX

2010-06-18T12:04:00.002+02:00

Jelena Novak

The notion of “black box” is highly loaded with different meanings since it is closely tied to at least three different contexts: 1) airplane industry, where it stands for an especially designed device - flight data recorder - that keeps instructions sent to any electronic system in the airplane and also records voices in the cockpit 2) information technologies, where it stands for for “device, system or object which can be viewed solely in terms of its input, output and transfer characteristics without any knowledge of its internal workings, that is, its implementation is ‘opaque’ (black)”[1], and 3) theatre, where it designates the black cube space used for performance, often of experimental theatre. Bojan Đorđev and Siniša Ilić's Black Box obviously refers to the theatrical use of the notion, although it might have tackled other uses, too.

As a listening spectator of Black Box, however, you will not be in the conventional black box theatre world. Your position as listening spectator would be displaced, as you would witness something that could be described as meta-black-box, the black box about black box, in which status and function of theatrical representation mechanisms are highly problematized. You will see the three-dimensional projection of performing in the cubus whose dimensions are like those of a big TV set. The scenes projected could be provisionaly named as Crowd, In front of the Screens, The Accident, Protest, Laughing. Along with the visual projection you will hear the projection of actor's voice accompanied with different sounds.

Two Black Box issues are especially intriguing: one is related to its performance and another to the text of Goran Ferčec’s drama Letter for Heiner M. (2008) that was used in it. The first issue is the a/synchronization between what is seen and what is heard in Black Box creating the gap that the listening spectator is constantly forced to re/create. And the second one is the striking description of the loss of voice that Heiner Müller experienced due to his illness. What makes the performance of Black Box subversive in the context of postdramatic theatre and contemporary Western surveillance society is precisely the gap between what is heard (actor’s voice telling different stories of how The Other - homosexual artist from Eastern Europe - provokes the power system, accompanied by a mixture of non-diegetic corporeal and ambient sounds) and what is seen (three dimensional black box projection of casually dressed people performing postures of everyday situations such are standing in the crowd, staring at the screen, helping with medical urgency, protesting at demonstrations, laughing). Reinventing the body–voice gap while fighting the fear of losing the voice (both literally like Heiner Müller and metaphorically, as the Other) determines both the politics and the economy of this performance.

The gap, in general, is defined as “an unfilled space or interval; a blank or deficiency; a break in continuity. Also, a disparity, inequality or imbalance; a break in deductive continuity”.[2] When considered in the context of body and voice I detect the gap when what I see (the body) and what I hear (the voice) at the same time do not follow the expected form(s) of mutual representation. The body-voice representational construct could be explicitly defined by conventions in different forms of performing arts, but also could be implied by the ‘silent’ laws of doxa, common belief, when it becomes the place regulated by ideology. The relationship between the speaking voice and performing bodies present on the Black Box stage seems to be the place of discursive density for the authors of the piece.

The process of a/synchronization that constantly happens between bodies and voices only creates the illusion of the ‘wholeness’ and the desire to obtain it. While creating that illusion, a/synchronization actually creates the gap, caesura, and it maintains it between bodies and voices, straight and queer, images and sounds, live and projected, immediate and mediated, Europe and its Others. With the Black Box performance 'convicted' to infinite and impossible a/synchronization between what the listening spectator hears in the headphones and sees in the three-dimensional black box model, the fluctuating ‘Open’ is produced that reveals how distinctions are manufactured.[3] The network of relations is left to recipients to recognize them: bodies produce the voices, and voices produce the bodies, and what counts as performed ‘reality’ is what happens between the heard and the seen. And that reality is made unique to each of the five spectators that could see/hear the piece at the time.

Productivity of synchronization evokes the principle of the vocalic body defined by Steven Connor. The concept of vocalic body proposed by Connor initiates an interrogation of the understanding of body-voice relations. As is usually understood, the body produces the voice. The concept of the vocalic body emphasizes that the other way round is not only possible, but happens all the time. This concept underlines the reversibility of the mutual influences between body and voice: “The principle of the vocalic body is simple. Voices are produced by bodies, but can also themselves produce bodies. The vocalic body is the idea (...) of a surrogate or secondary body, a projection of a new way of having or being a body, formed and sustained out of the autonomous operations of the voice. (...) The leading characteristic of the vocalic body is to be a body in invention, an impossible, imaginary body in the course of being found and formed”.[4]

Vocalic body appears to me as a kind of vocal mirror - the voice is projected (like the image on the mirror) but that projection, vocal performance, immediately affects the identity and the presence of the body that produced it by reflecting itself back to it. The individual, expressive, self-reflexive body performs, while at the same time it is performed by the voice. And what happens with the voice from off screen that is purposely divided from its original body? In Black Box that whole person of the actor is contained in his voice. There we come to the concept of acousmatic voice by Michel Chion, «a voice in search of an origin, in search of a body», the voice one can't see what the causing of.[5] Underlining that Chion «compares the disacousmatization to striptease»,[6] Dolar comes to conclusion that «there is no such thing as disacousmatization»[7] because «the source of the voice can never be seen, it stems from an undisclosed and structurally concealed interior, it cannot possibly match what we can see».[8] On the contrary, Connor writes that there is no disembodied voice because “(…) sounds, though always on the move, are hungry to come to rest, hungry to be lodged in a local habitation that they can be said to have come from. Sounds are always embodied, though not always in the kind of bodies made known to vision”.[9]

The body-voice construct remains arbitrary and instable, both in theory and in practice. It is reconsidered and reinvented, evoking the way Agamben rethinks the relation between man and animal. In Black Box the psychoanalytical voice of the British actor performs the search for its body in a way that determines the performativity of Black Box. That voice temporarily takes possession of each body that appears on the stage, and from those fluctuating possessions new meanings are derived. They are different for each listening spectator not only because him/her contextualizes it differently, but also because each of them is offered a different narration to try to synchronize with the image. The power to synchronize in this case also means the power to recognize, or the power to decide upon division.

In connection to the issues of the real, body and voice, Slavoj Žižek raised the problem of belonging and elaborated it by proposing a mechanism similar to the concept that Connor latter developed as vocalic body: “The voice acquires a spectral autonomy, it never quite belongs to the body we see, so that even when we see a living person talking, there is always some degree of ventriloquism at work: it is as if the speaker’s own voice hollows him out and in a sense speaks 'by itself', through him”.[10] In Black Box, playing with a/synchronization could be interpreted as playing with reality, but also playing with power. ‘We take this temporal co-incidence of words and lips as sort of guarantee that we’re in the real world, where hearing a sound usually coincides with seeing its source (...).[11] It appears that someone’s voice is silenced when I see more bodies than I hear. This silencing induces more questions that can bear political connotations related to distribution of power. All those you are going to see in Black Box seem to be voiceless. And the one you will hear is hiding. It is all an illusion.

[1] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_box

[2] According to Oxford English Dictionary.

[3] Giorgio Agamben, Open: Man and Animal, Stanford University Press, 2003.

[4] Steven Connor, “Violence, Ventriloquism and the Vocalic Body” in: ed. Patrick Campbell and Adrian Kear, Psychoanalysis and Performance, London and New York, Routledge, 2001, p. 80.

[5] Mladen Dolar, A Voice and Nothing More, Cambridge , Massachuthes, London, England, MIT Press, 2006, p. 60.

[6] Mladen Dolar, op.cit., p. 68.

[7] Mladen Dolar, op.cit., p. 70.

[8] Mladen Dolar, op.cit., p. 70.

[9] Steven Connor, Ears Have Walls, http://www.stevenconnor.com/earshavewalls/

[10] Slavoj Žižek, “I hear You with My Eyes” in: Renata Salecl and Slavoj Zizek, Gaze and Voice as Love Objects, Durham and London, Duke University Press, 1996, p. 92.

[11] Michel Chion, Audio-Vision, Sound on Screen, New York, Columbia University Press, 1994, p. 128-9.

Siniša Ilić: Slika ili ekran – konstrukt privida tela (body/mind)

2010-04-24T13:20:00.007+02:00

ulje na platnu / oil on canvas 1,80 x 3 m, 2007

Miško Šuvaković

Slikarstvo je promenilo funkcijuslika je od objekta estetsko-umetničke recepcije ili objekta esteske i estetičke kontemplacije postala instrument artikulacija i deartikulacije živog tela unutarnestabilne društvene svakodnevice pa i samog života. Reč je o obrtu funkcije slikarstva kao prizvodnje autonomnih objekata (situacija, događaja) u instrumentalne aparatuse rekonstrukcije forme života (Đorđo Agamben) i simulacije forme života (Žan Bodrijar). Ovde, pozivanje na formu života nije modernistički poziv ka vitalnosti ili živahnosti ili prirodnosti slikane forme (Pikaso, Mur, Kalo, Bejkon) te avangardistička sinteza forme umetnosti, politike, seksualnosti i svakodnevice (Tatljin, Šviters, Kokto, Li Miler, Kejdž ili Joko Ono) već odlučna ili neodlučna borba za artikulaciju društvenog/kulturalnog tela usred konstruisdanja življenja. Pod telom se razume složeni odnos body/mind u specifičnom prostoru življenja: opstajanja, bivanja, prikazivanja, izražavanja, zavođenja, proizvođenja, artikulacije, razmene i potrošnje. Slikarstvo je manuelna i telesna umetnost. Zasnovano je – tredicionalno modernistički – na ostavljanju egzistencijalnog (ekspresija) i bihejvioralnog (performing) traga na površini papira, platna, zida, kože, predmeta. Danas sliakrstvo nije samo predstava ili izraz nekog ili nečeg, već pre, slikarstvo je rad na slici.

Slika je telsna konstrukcija (body/mind) subjektivnosti. Jasni i nedvosmisleni konstruktivizam suočava gledaoca sa pokaznošću subjektivnosti na površini ili opni koja nema svoju unutrašnjost. Trijumf slikarstva je trijumf opne: dubine koja mora uvek biti jedino i samo efekat rada površine. Slikar u akribičnoj preciznosti i pokazanoj nežnosti govori o ljubavi i sublimaciji. On sasvim spoljašnim matrijalnim sredstvima slikarstva “generiše” sliku o unutrašnjoj emociji, stanju uma, bivanju u sebi.

Ljubav i sublimacija: konačno slobodni – ništa više ne može biti kao pre, mnoštvo spoljnih svetova, sve odmah i sada, manjak manjka svake celine, kastracija zakona/ili/falusa koji upravlja mojim ili … životom, bog kao gubitnik u ovoj igri za moć, ćutanje krici, mjauk žene-mačke, vrtoglavica, klasna borba u seksualnoj ekonomiji, biti mnoštvo u jednom, transgresivni odnosi maskirane figure identifikacije moći u ovom uskom kontekstu, ponuđene istine su fikcionalne konstrukcije, logika svakodnevice, ekranski lik kao softver avangardnog tela, kazna i krv od udarca bičem, teorija subjekta, unutrašnji svetovi su samo iluzionizam površine, monstrumi i zveri se maze, umiljavaju, ližu, dodiruju, zvuci internacionale, globalizam/antiglobalizam – ljubav i sublimacija: konačno smo slobodni, anarhizam i postpolitika svakodnevice u ljubavi i sublimaciji tragova od brisanih tragova koji se dobro prodaju na tržištu umetnina i naslojavaju u mojim sećanjima na univerzalnst sreće: Happiness also has its tears! Ljudska prava i nejne boje. Mlada i lepa srpska biseksualna omladina se sunča, peva, agituje, pleše, podučava, zavodi i glumi na Adi Ciganliji uz muziku Filipa Glasa ‘Lepotica i zver’.*

Ono što se vidi jeste ono što je proizvedeno kao pojava data za svet, za sam život (G. Agamben) koji nije sasvim sam. Pojedinačnost koja konstruiše privid izraza iprivid predstavljanja. Slikar posredstvom neposrednog suočavanja umetničkog tela (body/mind)i atmosfera (brujanja, vibracija, omotavanja, klizanja, nanošenja) medija i njihovih suočenja stvara paradoksalni biopolitički prošiveni bod (point de caption). Drugim rečima, na slici se uspostavlja direktna pikturalna biopolitička artikulacija i deartikulacija crtajućeg, crtanog i crtačkog ili slikajućeg slikanog ili slikarskog tela. To se odigrava unutar životnih formi koje obećava kultura elektronskih slika i transfiguracija tela u softverska umnožavanja kompjuterskih mrežnih operacija. Biopolitika ovde znači stvaranje niza tehnika/tehnologija kojima se živo telo i fikcionalno telo suočavaju sa memorisanim ili ekranski ponuđenim slikama. Uzbudljivo je i šokantno otkrivati da ljudsko telo (moje, tvoje, njegovo ili tek ‘ono’ telo) nije prirodno telo, već telo konstruisano medijskim transfiguracijama, moćima slike itd. Slika nudi pojedinačno telo, odnos tela i ta pojedinačnost je tu i tada. Pitanje je kako se život oblikuje kroz veštačke moduse telesnih odziva na ponude konstruisanih pojavnosti pojedinačnih emocija, osećanja, stanja, pokaznosti. U tom smislu, crteži i slike su reakcije, odzivi ili interakcije ’živog tela” na veštačke figure medijskog okružujućeg totaliteta realnosti. Slika mauelnom pikturalnošću pruža otpor sveprisutnosti ekranske digitalne slike. Ali, to nisu nekakve spontane reakcija slikara, već konceptualizovane i vizuelizovane mikrotaktike koje u pojedinim i fragmentarnim poljima mikromoći (racionalnost) i mikropotčinjavanja (subjektivnosti lokalnih politka, uokvirenja seksualnosti, naprslina duhovitosti, užasa usamljenosti, mnoštva mogućnosti izbora realiteta) pokazuju arhitekturu sceničnosti vizuelizirane ljudske drame u rascepima egzistencije i bihejvioralnosti. To je svet konstruisanih ikonografija, uveličanja i arhitekturalizacije “uzroka emocija” ili “uzroka identiteta” ili “uzroka-slike-kao-figure-tela”. Novi, najnoviji slikarski ekspresionizam nije direktan i prirodan kao što je Polok verovao (“Ja stvaram kao što priroda stvara”). Sproveden je kroz svest/svet medijskog prikazivanja o kome je na primer Vorhol govorio: “Ja stvaram kao što mašina stvara”. I slikar modusima tragova svesti - kao kod mašine – pokazuje kako se “resematizuje” i “rekonstruiše” ideja prirodnog doživljaja (emocije stanja) u središtu slika-simulakruma koje plutaju oko nas bez izvora i bez porekla. Ovaj crtački i slikarski rad je veoma performerski (performer artist) ne samo zato što je za svako pojedinačno delo bitan “scenski” ili “parascenski” čin izvođenja dela kao događaja (event), već zato što slikar crteže slike i crtane/slikane ambijentalne postavke radi kao sablasne/fantomske scene (stages).

* kompletan naziv slike, u saradnji sa Miskom Suvakovicem, ulje na platnu, 3m x 1,80 m, 2006, izložba Hibridno - Imaginarno, MSUV, 2006.

* * *

O UMORU. / ON FATIGUE.

2009-10-31T15:16:00.005+01:00

Serija od 25 crteža A4 formata, flomasteri u boji na papiru, 2009.

“O umoru” je rad koji prikazuje umor kao simptom savremenog trenutka. Scene/crteži različitih umora su raspoređene u foldere/fascikle sa naslovima, slike i naslovi nisu povezani, funkcionišu u svim smerovima. Posmatrač može da ih repozicionira. Naslovi različito definišu umor: umor od kritičnosti, higijene, investiranja, heteronormativnosti, statusa kvo… Likovi na crtežima su figure uhvaćene u svojim svakodnevnim aktivnostima, bez specifičnosti su, neraspoznatljivi u svojim eklektičnim identitetima, umorni od “sada i ovde” još ne sasvim spremni za re/akciju.

* “Umoran je samo iscrpio realizaciju, dok je iscrpljen iscrpio sve mogućnosti.” (Gilles Deleuze). Prema Deleuzeu postoje četiri načina iscrpljivanja mogućeg:

- činiti iscrpne popise stvari,

- isušiti protok glasova,

- umanjiti potencijal prostora,

- istrošiti snagu slike.

* iz prateće publikacije predstave 1 siromašan i jedna 0, BADco, 2008.

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25 drawings ona paper, A4 format, felttip pens, 2009.

“On Fatigue” shows fatigue as a sympthom of this very moment. Various definitions of “tiredness” are written on empty folders. Folded images/drawings can be repositioned in relation with the folder titles. Titles defines fatigue as: tired of criticism, of heteronormativity, of maintenance, of status quo, of critical approach, investment, hygiene.... The images are portraits of fictional run-of-the-mill characters in their actions, without specifications. Figures, positions, unrecognisable and united in their eclectic identity. These are figures that are tired of the “here and now” but still not (or never) ready for a radical change and re/action, tired of knowing “what’s going on” and yet don’t know what to do.

* “… The tired has only exhausted realization, while the exhausted exhausts all of the possible.” (Gilles Deleuze). According to Deleuze, there are four ways of exhausting the possible:

- form exhaustive series of things

- dry up the flow of voices

- extenuate the potentialities of space

- dissipate the power of image

*from the booklet/newspaper of BADco. Performance 1 poor and one 0

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ENLARGING SPACE FOR RADICAL CRITICAL INTERVENTION

2009-10-31T01:00:00.003+01:00

Discussion by Goran Ferčec, Siniša Ilić and Ivana Marjanović

The joint work of Siniša Ilić and Goran Ferčec with the working title “A Letter to Heiner M/Version 2” has began during KulturKontakt’s AiR program in Vienna as research into the wide field of potential relations between text and picture. A performance text by the author Goran Ferčec “A Letter to Heineru M”[1] was taken as the basis for Ilić’s reading, presented in story boards. The work is still in its development phase, and was exhibited as such in the Art Point Gallery in Vienna. This was the occasion for an interview with the artists, conceived and moderated by Ivana Marijanović.

IM: How did you conceptualize and realize your cooperation on “A Letter to Heiner M”? Siniša, what was your interest in intervening in this particular text of Goran’s?

SI: The text is interesting for me because it offers instructions for performance, since its structure is aimed at a performance which is possible in the borderline area between the private sphere and artistic statement, but which is not necessarily linked to culture as an institute. This is what I thought: imagine an author following some instructions, reading them, regardless of whether he/she executes them or not, knowing when a possibility opens up for his personal /author’s intervention in a public space. The instructions do not need be read literally; they may also be approached as seductive fiction ending finally in a colon, then followed by a transition from the fictional second person into the performer’s first person in the selected form, whether it be an essay, a manifest, a dance, a text message …

IM: The sabotage takes place in the territory of Germany, Western Europe. Almost up to the very end this is not clear and openly determined, but it can be inferred through references to migration, structural racism, capitalist exploitation, etc. Therefore we can guess that it is Germany or perhaps Austria … Why that space? What I want to say is that similar processes take place all over Europe. Unacceptable and intolerable racism and exploitation take place also in, for instance, Slovenia, Serbia … On the other hand, we can say that this heroic act of sabotage takes place in the territory of Croatia, since it happens after the gate at the airport, am I right?

SI: You are right, they do take place everywhere. I placed the actual location in the remnants of the urban and social concepts born out of the enthusiasm of post-war culture, in the way of life of the last century, in comparison with which the current situation is certainly neither better nor worse. The echoes of these past times still influence our life and its aspects; work, positions, the size of the flats we live in, the spatial plans of the cities we move around... We are living at a time when the relations between the West and East (I am not talking only about Europe) are no longer defined to the extent of relations between the periphery and centre. I agree that problems are becoming closer and fragmented. It is also true that the situation is explained by the letter being taken out after passing through the gate, so in this abstract game of territorial titles it is essentially unclear or ironical whether it is the territory of the country of destination or departure, and therefore the border space is abstract and a result of economic and political agreement.

GF: I would say that the notion of border is the most dynamic and complex topic remaining after all the theoretical-social-literary post-isms happening to us in the last century. If I wanted to make a sufficiently complex analysis, I would have to start with the Spanish crossing of the ocean and the resulting consequences, go on to economic colonization, de-colonization, the cold war, the disintegration of great socialist and communist ideologies, ending with the idea of the reunification of Europe. I have just enough room here only to list all the things that may seem to me to be reasons for writing the mentioned text, and to conclude that we need to be wary of the idea that Europe is indeed enlarging. Personally, I am always, truly always, very much aware of the moment of crossing the border of the Western world. Europe has made an effort to make entering and leaving it something that is not and cannot be accidental.

IM: Siniša, you made an intervention in the text, instructions for sabotage. You have introduced a new concept through artistic language. I see it as enlarging and seizing new space. How did you arrive at this idea and why?

SI: I thought that with such an openly set text and structure, which are equally provocative in both content and form, it would be exciting to provide over and over again new layers of dramaturgy, editing and chronology. The conventional and institutionalized ‘fear’ of picture in opposition to text and vice versa, which was long ago fabricated, is insupportable, and I believe that they should intervene in each other, whether roughly or more seamlessly.

IM: As an socially engaged author, Goran is saying that the political today is not in the content but in the form. After reading Goran’s text and looking at Siniša’s drawings I understand your joint work as a call for intervention focused on the fact that public space, “political” intervention, actions, life, work, art, thoughts, are nowadays turning into an unbearable abstraction in the context of neo-liberal capitalism. There is practically no interest in serious radical criticisms of social and economic relations, whereas there is market interest for socially engaged art, which is an ideological issue. Let me go back to the subject of form-content relation. In your case I understand form as an invitation to everyone to present their programme in a public space, and not as a form produced for the commercialized spaces of today’s art and culture. Can you tell us something about this?

GF: I am no longer certain when it comes to the question as to whether the political is written in the content or form. That is a relation undergoing daily changes in my perceptions of artistic medium and subject. It seems to me that such arbitrariness between the political/form/content is understandable and permissible. The unbearable abstraction of who we are and what we represent is not linked only to the concept of work, activity and the need to criticize. As the ones active in the field of art and culture we are denoted by a field of the abstract covering a range of complex issues, from identity issues to work issues. It is increasingly risky to think of oneself as a writer, visual artist or theoretician. There is a clear critical attitude in society towards the concreteness of what somebody’s job is. This is a clear warning that the need for radical left-wing criticism of socio-economic relations has never existed as a need in the sense of demand. The meaning of any type of radicalism stems from the need of the individual, the one who talks, and not of the society, the one who listens.

SI: All the potential market channels have never been clear to me. I was in two minds as to whether there is a market and a “market”, or whether there is actually only one and only market. It seems that there is only one, large market linked to the centre of power, which in our times is no longer an individual, but an entire system – i.e. the market. In the local context there is no room or market for criticism, it is punished very early on. And all the time as an author you also feel the responsibility to be both critical and on the market. I believe that the market is indifferent to the level of radicalism of criticism, even when the market itself is the subject of criticism. Does our work exist only on the labour market?

IM: I would like to end by asking you how you see the role of art today. Does it have any sense in today’s commercialized and commodified art context?

SI: I believe that the process of the continuous re-articulation of our own position in all the worlds and contexts we live and work in has reached a boiling point, and that this speed is increasingly difficult to follow. I do not know whether I am losing the battle with time or if I am just growing old. This is indeed a pessimistic prognosis. Concretely, I believe that art has meaning, and its position has also always changed. I would not agree that commercialized and commodified art contexts are the only ones that exist and that they are not subject to change. Tools should be multiplied and perfected and traps of routine should be avoided. Not that this is simple, mind you.

GF: Sometimes it seems to me that the question of the purpose of art today has reached a point where all other ontological questions converge. There cannot be too many possible positions. If I have to be concrete, I would say that art in its comprehensiveness and size as an abstract social beast sustained by the imperative of the national (ideological) need for confirmation within art – is absolutely meaningless. What I find meaning in is work as discipline, firm enough so it can last and endure, far from the ideology of great notions. That is why I like the manner of Siniša’s very practical attack on possible ontology around the question as to whether art has meaning today. Siniša says that tools should be multiplied and perfected and routine should be avoided and I agree.

IM: An excellent statement for the end of an talk! And now it is the readers’ turn.

[1] Entire text in croatian: http://www.pozorje.org.rs/scena/drame/GFercec-Pismo-scena4-2008.pdf