My Easter Walk
I woke up a little later than the other days. I looked at the phone and thought I'd add some sleep, but didn't know that my time zone was still that of Dakar. It was already 10am when I got up to make my morning coffee. After checking the weather forecast to see if I could go for a walk - there were still a few hours left before it was supposed to rain - I hurried to make my way to out of the appartment. I looked for a destination on the map and found what looked like a park in a direction I had never been before. So I set off with my SLR camera around my neck.
Lisbon is still of a labyrinth for me, or at least Garça, the neighborhood where I live. The streets all look a bit the same. I thought I would find it easy if I just walked uphill. Anyway, I finally reached a point that looked like I had a view so I could check if I could see the park. And yes, there it was. But not a park at all, just a green area with bushes. I wasn't far from it, but I didn't think it made sense to go there, so I headed back.
All small businesses run by Asians were open. Actually the only people I saw on the street and some lost souls. A gray-haired man danced in the middle of the road.
Yes, I thought to myself, it can be very lonely in big cities where so many people live. There are a lot of closed doors and windows visible when you walk through the streets. I continued to ponder and thought about the young art colleague I had in Basel at the time. He committed suicide while in New York. He was lost and gave up.
On the way back I walked past Pingo Doce, a supermarket. I go there regularly because I can usually find what I need. Today they had shrimp on offer. In fact, something the same price as in Gambia. Gambia is becoming more and more expensive, even for products produced in its own country.
And then it started to rain, much earlier than expected.
I actually wanted to travel to Porto today, about a three-hour train ride. But the fact that I couldn't get a reservation for Japanese artist Yayo Kusama's exhibition at Serralves killed the idea. Something went wrong with the ticket purchase. Since people like to go to the museum on rainy Sundays, I wasn't sure whether I would be able get a ticket there. The idea of walking around there in the cold and being frustrated that I didn't have a chance to see the exhibition made me postpone this action.
Saturday, 30
On Thursday the opening that I had been waiting for took place at Hangar. They had already told me about it when I was still in Gambia. I was hoping to meet Monica de Miranda, but I was told they were traveling to Venice on Monday. She and her team. No time for a conversation between a busy artist and an artist who has just flown in.
Repair and The Power to Reimagine the Common
Inspired by the words of sociologist and thinker Achille Mbembe, the exhibition reflects on the possibility of mending broken historical relations through the lens of three artists. The works in the exhibition condense observations on multiple consequences of generational trauma and the tools humans employ to restate knowledge, land rights and individual and collective health. REPAIR articulates itself through the artist’s inquiry into conflict caused by colonisation, gender-political and racist forms of oppression and the silencing of voices under colonisation and its multiple legacies.
Repair/Reparar
And Iza again. This time we had a real conversation. She was a good listener because I talked as if I had been silent for too long. Luckily, she likes conversations and isn't one to ask for silence.
Friday, 29
I found this text from 2017 while cleaning up my older laptop. It's still so cold and wet in Lisbon that I am able to spend time in my Dedicated Workspace (Airbnb terminology for desk) without regret.
Maren Sanneh sees her project as a work in progress. It is therefore not a fully pre-programmed, time-organized production, but the realisation of her project takes place according to the conditions, in collaboration with international artists and interested parties living in Gambia.
And that's actually how it is, as I have already described in previous entries. Conditions mean remote and difficult to get to (which I didn't realize when I bought the land and which I only fully realized when we moved there). Collaboration with artists therefore takes place sporadically. Work in progress. In reality something always happens that is important in my eyes.
I also came across a diary text of March 2016 that I once converted into a JPEG when I was planning a show that ended up not being realised. And a photo of our gate when it was just installed (20190311).
Yto Barrada (1971) - Tree Identification for Beginners, 2017
Wednesday, 27
On the recommendation of my friend Ivo, I went to the Caluste Gulbenkian Museum today. A rainy morning. There were already people lined up at the ticket office when I arrived. However, nothing compared to what I saw yesterday on the way to the MAC in front of the Jerónimos Monastery (see photo below). When it was my turn, I asked about their collection of modern art. Unfortunately this part is currently being renovated. I could have saved myself the queuing. I want to focus on what I really need to see instead of following chance.
Indeed, I left out antiquity, art from the 12th to 19th centuries, China and Japan. What made me save money on admission as well, as the contemporary art exhibition on view was free; a solo exhibition by a Portuguese artist. I was told I had to go to another house. So I walked around the whole building, through the beautiful garden and came across a video installation inside a container that interested me.
Commissioned for Afroglossia event, curated by Adrienne Edwards, this video (shown in the container) portrays a trip made by the artist's mother to the USA in 1966. Aged just 20, the Maroccan socialist student was one of 50 Young African Leaders invited on a cultural excursion sponsored by the State Department. It turned out that the students were disappointed with the project and returned home relieved. Due to difficult living conditions, they were forced to neglect their studies. (author's note)
Through archives, reports, newspapers and textiles Yto Barrado interweaves events from history and politics (Pan-Africanism, the movements for decolonisation and against Vietnam War, BlackPower) with events and myths related to her family. Dialogues and voice-over information, together with geometric shapes animation, objects and pictorial stains, set the rhythm of the representation and the narrative.
Text copied from the panel placed next to the container
>
Mosteiro dos Jerónimos
Tuesday, 26
Yeah... Evidence: Soundwalk Collective & Patty Smith was amzing.
Patti Smith
All IS EVIDENCE
verification - substantiation - corroboration - affirmation - authentication - attestation
documentation - declaration - signs
- traces - manifestation
Monday, 25
Update Official Portuguese Representation Venice Biennale 2024
Sunday, 24
Today I found out that there were some more openings last weekend. It's like that, I come across the things I'm supposed to come across. Apparently there are no further processes planned for me. But it's not like I didn't try.
I missed Patty Smith. That is actually a real shame. What's particularly annoying is that I didn't even know about the existence of the CCB. I would definitely have gone there in the last two weeks to see the contemporary art section. I already planned to go there on Tuesday.
Evidence: Soundwalk Collective & Patti Smith
Hein Senke (1889-1995)
Sem titulo, 1968 and Conversa, 1968
Colagem sobre cartão prensado e oleo
MNAC 4455, 4456
Saturday, 23
I have settled in very well and move around without any worries. The co-living household is fine. It's just a shame that there is no common lounge. The kitchen is more or less just a kitchenette. In case of cooking I have to take my plate to my room and eat there at my desk. Everything is small but nice and as I said, I'm used to it.
Yesterday morning I was at the Museum of Contemporary Art, but there was only one exhibition open in their gallery because the museum is under renovation. In the main building, the foyer was open for information and some permanent artwork was on display. The artist in the photo with the shadow of me was born in Hamburg, like me. A little coincidence that I found amusing. Am still a bit lonely, that's why. Here and then I have small talks with people but nothing much.
In the evening I went to a workshop, at Hangar, what was an impressive experience. Within the frame of O.C.E.A.N.I.C.A. (Occasions Creating Ecologically Attuned Narratives in Collective Action) it was about how to use body movement to implement the character of the ocean in a group. Interesting to encounter Chus Martínez... another coincidence. The Soul Expanding Ocean #2
This time I really tried hard to get connected, but after the workshop the organiser told me that they were not about to socialise that evening. They wanted to be among themselves only. The young woman Iza (she's doing a five-month internship), who I spoke to every time - three times by now, we always joke a bit - told me that Monice de Miranda and everyone else were very busy organizing the project Greenhouse for Portugal's pavilion at this year's Venice Biennale.
Who knows, maybe I'll travel through Lisbon these four weeks without having any further consequences for my life in Gambia. That's fine too, if that's how it's supposed to be.
Isabel Lewis – 'A 21st Century Ritual' | TateShots
Meet the Artist - Isabel Lewis
Now I'm preparing to go to an opening by a contemporary African artist. I visited the African Arte Lisboa gallery a few days ago and actually had a good conversation that went beyond small talk. (Exceptions confirm the rule regarding what I wrote before:) Very beautiful sculptures and masks were exposed there.
Rua 1° de Maio
Now that I've been here in Lisbon for a while, I remember the journeys I took alone, wandering around the city, looking for something to justify my doing. The last time it was seven years ago in Athens. But the mission was clearer because I visited documenta 14.
My room is small, approximately 12 square meters. But I don't need to complain. It was my decision to take this trip.
As expected, it was cold, even in the apartment that I share with a few others, as far as the kitchen and bathroom are concerned. There is no lounge. On the third day I finally bought a fan heater for 10 euros in an Indian shop at Praca Martim Moniz that I happened to see in the window. I was on my way to the Seaside shoe store because they suggested I get some slippers. Street shoes are not allowed in the apartment, understandably, it's the same at home in Tintino.
The days go by quickly, I walk a lot, my feet hurt. I'm trying to familiarize myself with public transport.
Yesterday I attended a very interesting event at the Hangar Art Research Center. I had watched the movie at the airport in Casablanca, when I was waiting for my conecting flight to Lisbon. The 1964 film immediately fascinated me because of the shots, the factory scenario and the dialogue. I appreciated it's depth. Thus I was very excited about yesterday's event. And indeed, it was enlightening to see how the monstrous in people confronts the monstrous in architecture. It was interesting to understand the lostness of the main character Guiliana and how she finally understood her way of being. How she faced the monster within her.
Architectural monsters have fascinated me since my childhood. They often appear in my dreams. I like photographing them. I'm also interested in abandoned buildings, of which there are many in Gambia, which seem somehow monstrous in their void.
I took the photo of the bridge today when I was on the way to LX factory. However, it was far from impressive - although it was an old factory, it now stocked boutiques and restaurants aimed at the general public and had lost its original ambience completely. Well, the conversion of disused factories into cultural centers has been going on for a long time. But today I realized how much they actually lose their original character.
An Experiment In Intervals III – Violet Desert
The name of the work references Antonioni's 1964 film 'Deserto Rosso' (Red Desert), renowned for depicting stark scenes of industrial architecture and featuring a protagonist, Giuliana (Monica Vitti) who is tormented by the alienating force of living within modernity. In parallel, the piece reads the site of the industrial park in Barreiro, Portugal, through the lens of 'monstrous architecture', or the monstrosity of modern idealism. Shaped by the industrial expansion brought about by Companhia União Fabril from the mid-1960s to 1970s, today the site exists in a liminal zone – haunted by the promises of economic prosperity and the failure of such promises. Despite this, or perhaps because of this, it houses plural identities and multiple futures. It is representative of both monstrosity as threat and opportunity.
The Third Thing
Friday, 8 (Women's Day)
Yes, this time we are not traveling together. I take over the journey in search of inspiration while he takes care of house, garden, and the dogs. Everyone will have their resistance and difficulties in carrying out these tasks carefully. I will first have to get used to the rather cool climate, while he will have to face other challenges. Nevertheless, we both want to design our lives in such a way that we can be creative and productive - with abandon, without stress. Two adults who know what they are doing.
Wednesday, 6
My German Voice
Some time ago I wrote about languages. Yes, my native voice German actually bothers me. I have been speaking languages other than Standard German for a long time and usually speak German when others want me to. If it were my choice, I could speak any other language with anyone.
I often perceive the tone as disrespectful. And it's particularly distracting at this very moment, which equals almost a disaster, as I prepare for the trip to Lisbon. It says things like that what I do and the person I am are not good at all. It makes me feel lost and lonely. Actually, it bullies me. It doesn't give me a chance. It insults me. It says everyone else around me is doing much more important things than me. I am a good for nothing. It doesn't support visions, ideas, hopes and prefernces, but rather wants me to humble myself. It is trying to produce a tabula rasa in my head. It condemns me to never being able to love myself because of who I am. It wants to see me fail and fall.
Now, let me silence this voice so that it leaves me in peace. Of course I will still have to speak German, but I will give this German voice my personal touch, which is friendly, positive and empathic. Let the complains disappear from my ears, then my German voice will also be free and independent.
Saturday, March 2
Yes, we were more of a hippie type in the seventies. Although I was almost too old for the punk movement, I sympathized with it. We proclaimed sexual freedom in every way. When I heard on BBC Focus on Africa this week that the Ghanaian parliament had passed a law that severely restricts LGBTQ rights, I was horrified.
Where I live people don't talk about. But when I say that I have absolutely nothing against two women getting married, many people find it incomprehensible. Fortunately, freedom of expression has at least progressed to the point where I dare to express my opinion. But it doesn't actually do much good, because everyone agrees that something like this will lead to the extinction of humanity. I feel somehow overwhelmed to do informative work in this context.
Saturday, 24
Something that comes to mind when I think about the LGBTQ+ movement. One of my fellow students who was a master student of Franz Erhardt Walther - Klaus Kumrow - used to refer to me as a Zwitter (hermaphrodite) or a Neutrum (neuter) what was clearly meant in a derogatory way. It was one of his tactics to dominate me. That time I let a lot be done to me, but it still hurt me in some way. Since I was somewhat dependent on him, I tried to figure out why he called me that. I concluded that I wasn't sexy enough, especially in terms of being a lover. As answer I tried to be as sexy as possible. My close friend, Gisa, sometimes told me that I looked like a transvestite. I adored feminine men and those in Ladies' wear, so that wasn't a problem for me. In Berlin we enjoyed going to Romy Haag.
At the beginning of this year I heard about a competition on the topic with the following wording:
A place of reflection for sexual and gender diversity is to be created directly on the Inner Alster. The Hamburg cultural authority is now looking for interested artists to design it.
Friday, 23
The Harmattan is back. Last week it was quiet and I thought it was over. Well, again for a few days, we have had biting desert wind. Then nothing is better than sitting on the computer and losing myself in Lisbon.
Since 2017 (in 2016 I only experienced the last few days) I had been in Gambia during Ramadan. And indeed, I like this time when everyone is prudent and disciplined and looks forward to dinner. We always had a good time with it, although I don't fast. But mostly, I eat little. At the beginning I made it completely for a few days, even without drinking.
This time I thought to skip it. I will live in a city for four weeks that I don't know yet. I was once in my life in Portugal, 1970, with grandparents and aunt, near Lagos in the Algarve.
First I tried to get a studio in the Hangar Art Center, which of course is utopian so short-term and without official application. Then I found an Airbnb that offers monthly rentals and is not as expensive. Am very much looking forward to it and walk around the streets a little via Google Maps.
Thursday, 22
Yesterday evening, on my walk to the lagoon, I walked through the forest, which will soon be part of a resort. I stopped briefly because the dogs were lingering. Suddenly they recoiled. I thought maybe it was a snake, but it was a large bird that was the same color as the tree trunk it was sitting next to. It almost didn't move, but was scared and so was I.
This morning I went there by bike to see if it was still around. It was. I brought water and some dry dog food. As I then learned from expat experts, it was a Snake Eagle. The owner of the Snake Farm in Kartong kindly offered to take care of the poor bird. It was around midday that I told the wildlife specialist that before he made his way here, I would check again to see if the bird was still there. To my regret, I found it lying lifeless on his back.
Saturday, 17
I write my private diary in English as well. As long as I don't live in a German-speaking country, I'll leave it at that. A large part of my communication still takes place in German, as does a large part of my thinking. I would like to think more in English. You may be asking yourself: What's the point? If it's purely about the content, it doesn't matter, that's clear. When I compare it to music, it's a different key. And I enjoy it when I master a key. Similar to being able to play an instrument well.
While living in Basel, I insisted on speaking the local dialect, which is very different from my native German. It supports the feeling of being part of society - in terms of music to stay harmonious and being respected for doing so.
I am aware that English is a colonial language, which often makes it difficult to speak English with Gambians as they have a kind of sceptical attitude towards the language. Even though I've lived here for a long time, I can't speak any local languages other than a few basic words in Wolof and Mandingo. It's a shame. I really tried, but I didn't succed. So I gave up. I created vocabulary cards for Mandingo, downloaded an app in Wolof, but had a hard time with it.
For several years I have been using Duolingo, which works a bit like a game. They offer Swahili, Zulu and Arab, which I learned for a while, but none of the languages of this region. As I really enjoy it, I've been on Portuguese for a few months.
Saturday, 10
It is easier to describe a study program than a social environment. To study is not only to perform certain tasks and to get familiar with ideas, discourses, and values, it is also a period of your life that you belong to a social space, shaping it as you go. We could even think of this period as a collective artwork, a moment where one absorbs and gives, inhales and exhales knowledges and practices. This collective breathing constitutes a mandate to protect and care for life. Why I am saying so? Because to study—and particularly to study to become an artist—means to discover the skills one possesses to create experiences that reflect on life itself. Reflecting on life must include its more difficult moments, and yet the premise that art is a marvelous speculative ground that allows for the mind to travel without harming anyone remains. Art is there to be able to see the real from all angles, to enhance our capacity to find a way through even during the more destructive eras of history. (...) Art is a multi-textured substance that has the ability to adapt and respond to the rapidly growing rigidity at the core of our worlds, a rigidity that prevents generous movements and impels us toward destruction instead. Today we need to become more generous than ever to be able to act without hate, without fear, and without the impulse to censor others. This is a very difficult task that no one can accomplish alone. The study of art is a chance to exercise peace, and to advocate for more equitable futures.1)
I know Chus Martínez through facebook. I was attracted by her profile picture, a bit of a rebel, a player, beautiful, a royal flash in her hand. We also had some mutual friends. So I made a friend request, which she accepted. That was three years ago. It wasn't until a while later that I became aware of her again on Instagram, where she posted almost daily works by artists she knew personally or whose works she had seen in physical form. I was stunned by her knowledge and experience, thus began researching. The fact that she is the director of the art school in the city where I lived for several decades made her even more appealing. Without question, I'm sure she's never heard of me. Being facebook friends doesn't actually mean much.Chus Martínez is a curator, art historian and writer. She has held various prominent positions in the art world. She is known for her extensive involvement in the international art scene and sits on the advisory board of numerous art institutions. Her work and contributions have had a significant impact on the art world, particularly in the areas of curation, art education, and advocacy through artistic expression.
1) e-flux announcements: Master of Fine Arts Basel
Thursday, 8
I'm still here, but running behind time...
Thursday, 1
Art Space Work of the Month
Maren Sanneh
Issa Samb, part of “Dakar May 2016” series
photography, inkjet on glossy paper, 2017, 42 x 29,7 cm