Wednesday, 30
Today I watched the lecture again from the beginning, because yesterday I was only connected after 10 minutes. Unfortunately the broadcast was interrupted and I just noticed that the Vimeo player on the site has been removed. Instead, it is pointed out that the recording of the live stream from 29 June 2021 will be available soon. Why that?
Tuesday, 29
Saw two great things today. First a beautiful film from 1977 with a wonderful Diane Keaton in the lead role. I saw my own life - not in the role of the young woman, but in the mood of the time - reflected. Then I saw a live broadcast of a lecture by Candice Breitz about her work Digest. A sublime oeuvre that I would have loved to have done myself. I like the act of highlighting of the verbs by painting black the rest (on the covers of the video tapes), the huge accumulation with the seemingly minimal installation (I also associated On Kawara), the covering up of something (sealed video tapes, the content of which can only be deduced by cutting open the sleeve is possible). Finally, the connection with the wonderful story of the Scheherazade. But please, there are many facets more you have to experience yourself. See the exhibition yourself, read about it or at least enjoy the lecture on Vimeo via the link below. I j
Candice Breitz Digest
Looking for Mr. Goodbar (1977)
Monday, 28
I'm wondering if I should have obtained permission when I came up with the idea of an art center (The House of Culture Tintinto, the name of which was set in February 2015). Oddly enough, that never really crossed my mind. I know that back in 2009 when I did my first research in Gambia and met Baboucarr Etu Ndow of Tunbung Art Village and Isha Fofana of Mama Africa, who both absolutely supported me in my work, an acquaintance suggested that I get to know the government. But I was kind of scared and avoided it. In the years that followed, I just went my way, but already realized, subconsciously, that it wasn't going to be an established project, but the birth of an artist who just goes her own way. Of course, I talked to a lot of people about it, got an incredible amount of theoretical tips, but nobody really took a bite and offered to work with me specifically and practically. All attempts to establish contact with functionaries or other very important people more or less failed. Neither of them was ready to join my project. Of course, it was also me or maybe only up to me - from whatever perspective you want to look at - that I was unable to come up with a groundbreaking idea. Everything has already been there. Yes, so there ... workshops and events, readings and concerts, exhibitions and a shop. So nothing new. The willingness of my Gambian acquaintances, especially those in Switzerland, because at that time I was apart from some short trips only there and not in Gambia, did not contribute much. Too busy themselves generating money and looking after their families in Gambia. My partner at the time, at least, brought me to the admission interview at the ZHdK, where I applied with my Gambia Project for the Master class Fine Arts, and finally failed at the admission. Everything would have turned out much more professional if I had my certificate, right? But prenatal birth control didn't seem promising and recommended abortion which, as you can see, I didn't accept. In the museum where I worked before, it was rumored that I was going to open an art school in Africa. The museum director had formulated this in a speech to the team. That's how things go by. However, when I finally had settled myself in Gambia in May 2016, at least the architect couple was very enthusiastic about me and my project. Our first meeting was at the 28th of August 2016 on site. Construction itself began in March 2017. Now, many years later I am sitting at my laptop in the Art Space and feeling fine. To wrap up this never-ending story, let me tell you, even if you find yourself lost and on a remote, narrow path, don't give up. It may look different from what you expected, but once you get used to the conditions, you will achieve something that may make more sense than what you actually planned because this is how it happened and no different. That's the beauty of it.
Sunday, 27
some strange weather is looming
Saturday, 26
actual state sand mine: picture 13, picture 14, picture 15, picture 16
Friday, 25
The hangover is of course inevitable. The first panic attacks occurred during the night, which then dragged on in waves throughout the day. Constant racing heart and general malaise up to nausea, a shaky general feeling. It's not the first time I've written about drinking. Moderate and controlled drinking is fine, but that was annoying. Binging. It's overuse of the body, self-destruction. I keep wondering why I had to do this. "Spit it out," but I couldn't talk about what was bothering me. Difficulty communicating leads me to speaking to myself internally and questioning almost everything I think. Too often I have had the experience that what I said I was not being taken seriously or was even replied: You can say what you want. Which means so much, actually I shouldn't have said what I said. Sometimes I run out of empathy and sensitivity. Yes, I actually wanted to reduce stress. But I increased it. I mean, the panic attacks are triggered by self-reproach coupled with a weak body that cannot resist. The visions and dreams that arise when alcohol levels drop are like horror films. For the sake of my health and those around me, I now have to take a longer break. Let's see if I can keep that or if it's just an empty promise.
Thursday, 24
I come home exhausted from town, where I had to do administrative work and shopping. At the last supermarket Right Choice I buy a bottle of South African wine, Pearly Bay Dry White, which I pretty much open right away to relax as soon as I get home. Somehow frustrated because not everything is going as smoothly as I would like it to, I empty the bottle while cleaning and do the watering of the plants in the garden in the most tipsy condition. Still unsatisfied and left alone, I head for the Twin Bar to get more supplies. Since I don't go by my car, I don't walk the main road, but the back way through the bush. I haven't walked this way for a long time. It`s already getting dark. The rubbish around the mosque shines towards me. I notice that there is more trash lying around than before. Finally, and a little exhausted, I reach the bar and order a small bottle of Cristal beer. The I point is a gull or white pigeon. The beer is very cold and I can only drink it slowly. I take two cans with me for home. I go back the same way through the bush. Suddenly I hear something rustling and to my astonishment I recognize the brightly reflecting backs of the white cows that are comfortably ruminating in the bushes. The almost full moon already seems to be there, but every attempt to photograph this beautiful picture of the bright cows in the dark night ends in absolute black. With flash I might scare the animals away and besides, I know that it wouldn't be what I want. My old Sony might have made it. At the "junction" opposite the house I finish the last can. The first one I drank on the way. There is no light at home, so I will be alone again. Disappointed, I trot to the gate, but the dogs are happy to see me. Today they both got a big bone when I got back from town.
Wednesday, 23
Back to the Tintinto cultural center. Where are we now? Ousman Cham alias Ous and I, Maren Sanneh alias Mimi, have lived and managed the house and garden for two years. The Art Space has been in the studio on the ground floor for a few months. A new room, the cabin, has now been created on the roof, which can be used as an open-air studio or seminar / workshop room during the day. However, and this is the reality - apart from social media - no public has yet emerged that deals with the house. Of course the House of Culture Tintinto is there, it exists, with or without an audience. I remember the times in the museum with only a few visitors. For me the time was peaceful and I could go about business like reading. The objects that were in the museum did not change with the number of visitors. They later put on big shows around the objects to attract visitors, but the objects still didn't change. Still, I wonder if I can be satisfied with the current state of affairs, that it is only the two of us who keep the house alive. Not really, but I can't force anyone to come here. In other words, I want the visit of the center, which is not so easy to manage in terms of traffic, to be relaxing, in the sense of the certainty of getting creative energy. What I can offer is that every visitor who will be here should take away experiences and insights into the idea of culture and art. It's a promise I can make and it will have a positive effect on the future.
Tuesday, 22
There were no interruptions to the Internet, and nothing else. I just lost touch with the diary. Still, I had a good week with no special events. On Saturday I celebrated my birthday in a lodge, which I really enjoyed. I didn't give a thought to the house and the roofing, which luckily is roughly made. I actually made the day mine with no worries or thoughts to discourage me.
Tuesday, 15
Addendum: The friendly lady with the sharp, sonorous voice from yesterday told me immediately and in broad German that I could fill in the digital registration form, which I have to present at the entry, right away. However, she did not ask if I had already booked a flight or if I had accommodation, which is necessary to fill in the form. From this I conclude that she was not interested in me and my trip, but only in a completed form. Her voice indicated this type of business acumen.
Monday, 14
Determined and in good spirits, I finally booked a flight. Though, vaccinating seems difficult because there is no vaccine available at the moment. But hopefully there will be more supplies. Further, when I read the terms and conditions for traveling, I feel weak again. Hopefully I'll be able to fill in all the forms correctly. What may seem easy to others is actually a challenge for me. I panic and fear that I could fail. What when I miss to do the testing at the right time? Or don't get the result on time? I am consulting the German representation, the consulate in Gambia. The lady on the other end of the line doesn't give me any courage either. Her sharp voice rather unsettles me. She rattles through all demands as if she wanted to make it even harder for me than it already is. Schengen echoes in my ears as if it were something I can picture like nothing. But in reality I feel very far from it.
Sunday, 13
I drag myself through the day. It's nice that Sunday I can afford to take it all at a leisurely pace.
Saturday, 12
People are nice when they want something from me and expect to get it. Otherwise, apart from a few close friends, not many are interested. I wonder if this has to do with age, as an older person, being more destined to give the young a hand. It probably also has something to do with one's reputation and position in society. The more important the role you play in society, the more people are attracted to you. Possibly also here again with the perhaps unconscious purpose of extracting an advantage for oneself. As for me I tend to feel uncomfortable when I frustrate people. Except for those who are insolently demanding and extremely disrespectful towards me. Even if I can understand their behavior from their own history, I still have to protect myself from impertinence.
Friday, 11
(from my notes)
It rained again last night
and today it is overcast and drizzling all day.
Our solar system is once again reaching its limits.
I'm depressed again and find life rather hostile.
Thursday, 10
Last night it rained for the first time
and it looks like
the rainy season has started.
The corrugated iron roof
is as good as finished.
Just in time.
Wednesday, 9
I talk to my mother about my travel plans. She says that when I am in quarantine, it is forbidden to come to the retirement home. So there would only be the opportunity to meet us on the street, as my father no longer likes to go to restaurants. And actually it is not allowed to leave the house when in quarantine. To fly to Hamburg just to be able to see my parents on the street seems not reasonable to me and I decide to cancel the flight and postpone my trip to the end of July in the hope of being fully vaccinated beforehand.
Tuesday, 8
Because my father is not doing so well, I want to travel to Hamburg. But in order not to have to be quarantined, I want to get vaccinated. But when I get to the vaccination station, I am told that only those who have already received the first injection will now receive the second. They wouldn't vaccinate the first one. The say they are sorry, but can't help me. Disappointed, I go to the Blue Kitchen for a coffee first, but decide to go to the airline as planned. There, I have to wait a while, which calms me down, because I can relax that way. When I'm ready to book the flight, I get insecure, let it stay and go. But say I'll come back. I do some things I have to do and then go back, determined to book the flight and bypass the quarantine somehow. Fortunately, a friendly woman helps me this time. I have the option to make a reservation that is valid until Sunday. If I don't pay by then, the reservation will be canceled. Thank god I still have time to think about.
Monday, 7
the space on the roof is taking shape.
I want to call it cabin,
because it reminds me of the structure of a ship.
some call it party room and dream of barbecue.
we'll see what's going on there when it's done.
Sunday, 6
two more landscape photos: picture 11 and picture 12
Saturday, 5
Open Studios at Atelierhaus Klingental
MALOLA presented by Christian Schaffner
Friday, 4
(from my post at fb Art Space group)
Cy Twombly - Drawing for manifesto of Plinio, pencil on paper, 1967, 48.5x65.8
Schirmer Mosel Jubilee Portfolio 1999
Thursday, 3
newest state of the changed landscape because of sand mining, looking from SSW to WNW, where the nature stil is still intact, apart from the walking paths made by humans
picture 7, picture 8, picture 9, picture 10
Wednesday, 2
Now I have finally made it to the end of Pasolini's film about the Oedipus myth. Yes, that's such a thing with the oracles. Everything is clear and wanted, not imposed by fate, as Oedipus says towards the people before he enters the house and finds his wife and mother who has hanged herself. Which reminds me of my doctor I saw last week. I wanted to do an annual general check, but wasn't sure what to tell him. I'm always a little insecure when I'm sitting across from him at his desk. Somewhat incoherently, I explained to him that my physical complaints could be of psychological origin. I didn't really understand when he replied it was a metaphor, but I left it at that. When I first consulted him five years ago and asked about possible psychotherapy, he reacted a little rude and said he hoped I was healthy. I suppose he's not interested in psychology.
Edipo Re
Tuesday, 1
Art Space Work of the Month
Dieter Lott - Trees at the Channel, 1970, silkscreen, 70x50 cm
