7:00 pm Thursday. Opportunity to not go out, a too rare occasion to do nothing at home. I failed. Passed the rush of sorting the mess in my flat I decided to give another chance to group exhibition in Berlin. Only difference with last Saturday, it's not a dozen of artists presenting their work but the whole UDK students.
8:34 pm I'm on site, a lot of people, a stage in the courtyard and the usual but always efficient beer/grill places. I meet my Romanian pair of artist. Ready to go I follow my guides to explore the numerous rooms, corridors, stairs and other back doors of the building.
Comparing to my last visit of another UDK building some months ago, it is literally open doors. A big mess, slightly organized, I should have come here before cleaning my flat to adjust my tolerance to chaos.
My guess is each room is painted in white at the beginning of the year and the students have "carte-blanche" to mess around. Some do it well. And it is always good to have professionals around you, when looking at some art
pieces you think twice before opening your (so mine) mouth.
The installations located at the extremity of the entrance gave me the best impression, maybe because it is quieter and the human tide did not reach this hidden corner. I'm particularly fan of installation combining speakers, cables, all these stuffs making noises and looking alive, a bit like my living-room, at least for the cable mess.
9:34 pm it is getting warm, back to the backyard for a fresh beer. On stage a chorus replaced a another one. It feels like some students are a bit too much fan of Glee or Dysney-Club, weird. Maybe it's an happening, maybe.
Chitchat here and there and I hung up the wagon to continue the tour. We are moving back to the Raum 153.
10:34 pm Artists, future artists, are very open, in the sense that they easily talk to new people. Funny thing is the assumption made by many people to start conversation: someone meets a friend and introduce you to him or her, almost immediately getting to the conclusion that you belong to the same group. During the last two years I could hear as first question: so you are a musician? a dancer? a painter? Russian? Romanian? student? an actor (at the limit street performer)? and answer no, no, no, niet, no, I didn't know, if you say... Well people do not expect much from you when they ask this type of question. But sometimes you meet people less in representation and will use a different approach, so who are you? what are you doing? usually more interesting. I'm a color scientist, once said the trouble starts with the great chance to see the same face of astonishment whatever is the country you are coming from.
Back in the famous Raum 153, a surrealist discussion is about to happen. A Romanian girl N is introduced to an Australian girl D (and so called artist) by a Russian girl R (I think but not sure) and friend of her. Two foreigners in a foreign country, leaving in Germany since a while, first question is how do you like it here is a classic... But no, the D girl will start with a "poor Romanian, good for you that you are here in Berlin, so poor it is in you country and bla bla...". In the same time a Romanian painter I and French color scientist J will make a slight shift to discretely leave the conversion, and then avoiding successfully to stare air at the opulent bosom of the D girl a (a big thanks to GoogleTranslate) as well as her art installation.
Some minutes later, N, I and J are seated on some stairs, occupy at re-doing the world of art and drinking proseco.
00:33 am Late it is, the road is long from Zoolische Garten to Mauerpark. But the road is schön too. Crossing Tiergarten by night, no fox this time, no cars, some lost tourists and that's all.
5 commentaires:
Tu as vu le tatoueur dans la cabane en grillage à poules dans l'arrière-cour? C'était d'un glauque!
non j'avoue je l'ai pas vu (dommage...). C'était dans la cour du fond? Pas celle où il y avait la scène?
Oui, c'était dans la cour du fond. Le tatoueur ne changeait pas d'aiguille entre deux clients, faut croire que le sida est devenu hype.
On a la hype qu'on peut...
Affligeant.
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