diary > july 2024 | ||
I don't want the inspiration come from the dark, right. I have to explore. I am not sure what I want to say and that's why I think I'm limited in the sense that artists always have things to say, quite productive. I' dont feel an artist in that way. Wednesday, 31 Sometimes I wonder what kind of artist I am. Or if I am. There were brief moments when I was respected or, shall I say, accepted (which is less profound in my understanding), starting in high school, where they praised me for my oil portraits, and friends did the same for my surrealist attempts. In art school people liked my paintings, I was known for being special, kind of weird. Apart from painting, I was very interested in performance art but sometimes I mixed things up. Should the performance take place as part of an art event or institution or could I just choose the location freely, anywhere in everyday life. This was also the case with my photography, which I sometimes called a diary. I took photos whenever I saw something that interested me. Things like milk spilled on the screen printing table in the textile workshop. But I also enjoyed taking portraits of my fellow students. On a trip to Italy, I set an alarm clock to go off every two hours. No matter where I was at that moment, I had to find something to shoot. However, looking for exhibitions or galleries became difficult for exactly that reason - I was too freaky. I felt more like an artist when I rented my own loft. An exciting time actually, but in terms of the furnishings of the loft, it did not meet the demands of the bourgeoisie. Another reason why people were not interested was that I seemed to be too lost, too difficult to establish. Men from the art world though, with few exceptions, only wanted sex. As soon as they realised that it wasn't going to happen, they disappeared. When I arrived in Basel, I was a nobody compared to how I had been perceived in Hamburg. It was a start from scratch. Nevertheless, I immediately joined the off-scene. After a few days I had got a job at the art academy and a bit later at the Kunsthalle. Over time, as Malola, we worked our way into people's heads through music and conceptual art. We were absolutely part of the art scene there. It's different in Gambia. I have no contact with artists or galleries. I just muddle along. OK, I have my own art space, but I have already been in Gambia for eight years and nothing much happened concerning the arts. I still feel like an artist, or maybe I never was one? Or maybe I'm not one anymore, considering the demands Charlotte Gainsbourg makes on artists. I repeated her quote to my partner, and he said very clearly that I was one. It sounded almost like an imperative, you can't just stop now. Monday, 29 A phenomenon that I observe here and there is that I indeed make more mistakes when I am provoked by someone who subconsciously wants to hinder me. That is, these people succeed in what they intend. They want to see me fail, that gives them satisfaction.
Here is an attempt to understand it: Friday, 26 As for the small residential house in the corner of the garden (where we had first planned a Bantaba and then decided to build a house), last Saturday we had our last day of work. The rains are too difficult to calculate and make the work unsafe. The soak away we had dug was already destroyed by heavy rains. We had to fill it back with sand to prevent further erosion and to secure the house itself. We decided to take a break from the work and continue when I return from Europe in September. Yes, I am traveling soon to visit my mom and also to Basel for the Kunsttage, see topical. The safe thing about Instagram is that you can't download the images. Well, I used the social network's filters to make my photos more attractive. Unfortunately, I now have to add some of the filters manually. When my phone and later my iCloud - before I upgraded to 50 gigabytes - were full, I deleted duplicate files and sometimes deleted the version with the filter applied. So now, if I want to have a precise duplicate of my profile on my own website, I have to recreate those filters. Yes, the whole thing is a bit of a technical and kinda copy-paste job. However, it is just right for rainy days. Hopefully I'm not violating any copyrights. But I think, apart from the layout of the grid, which I adopted, I use my own images. To avoid keeping the reader in suspense, I've uploaded a draft to the website. Wednesday, 24 An overcast day. It's drizzling, the sky is grey. The rainy season is making me weary. No inspiration. Brewing another coffee. I force myself to undertake a project, and I may not finish it. I've decided to transfer my photos from Instagram to Tintinto website, where I have already archived some of my work. Unlike Facebook, I placed more emphasis on the aesthetic aspects of the photos posted to make a difference. Only photography by me, no references to exhibitions, no sharing of other artists and their works, no news, no sayings, etc. - indeed less social. For those who are on Instagram and follow me, it might be uninteresting. It's not really interesting at all, just another job of archiving. However, I decided once for these photos, never deleting any. I chose them often spontaneously, without explanation. Out of the moment. Sometimes my smartphone gives me hints by showing me pictures from the library. Then I think, why not, and post them on Instagram. I avoid searching. I actually use a similar principle here in the diary. If I can't think of anything, there is no entry. This morning I thought of the expression Worte auf die Waageschale legen or Haarspalterei. Both are about looking closely, which is attempted to be prevented with the sayings. I connect them with my mother. By using the idioms, she wanted to express that there was no point in deepening the conversation. While I wanted to investigate the matter more closely, she left it at that so she could concentrate on other things. Nevertheless, I think it's good to take the time to think carefully about something, not to ruminate, but to gain insights, being mindful.
I think art can open doors for you to be truly yourself in like two minutes or something where you just have this unexpected encounter with an artwork that makes you think about something or feel something that you didn't really have space for. So art can give space for that. 1) Sunday, 14 As I was going through my photos from the last Venice Biennale, "The Milk of Dreams," I came across a work by Sandra Mujinga that caught my interest. Sandra Mujinga's multidisciplinary practice is driven by a profound interest in the body - and its absence. In her uncanny installations, ghostly hooded figures, sculptures resembling flayed skins, and fantastical hybrid creatures are made instruments of observation. 2) 1) I cheer for the monsters. Artist Sandra Mujinga at Louisiana Channel 2) Short Guide Biennale Arte 2022, page 281 Monday, 8 On the way to the hospital this morning, we walked because it is just behind the tropical center, I suddenly felt a strong pain. I even screamed involuntarily. A soccer ball had been shot at my hand, which was on my thigh at that moment. The hand was red and the thigh hurt. The rather mature players came running and apologised. What an unfortunate coincidence. It still hurts and I will definitely have a big bruise. I was shocked, it came out of nowhere. I didn't see people playing soccer. We walked on the street, quite far from the field. It turned out to be malaria. High fever kept us from going back to Tujereng. And heavy rain. When I went out later to buy a thermometer, water streams were flowing down the street. 39.5. Hopefully it will get better overnight and we can go tomorrow. Now I have time to read and am back with Bernadine Evaristo, this time her memoirs Manifesto. Sunday, 7 Back at Sky Blue Apartments for a few days. I had already booked these days when I was last here a little over a month ago. On Saturday, the second of June, I had the meeting with the woman who rented the apartment I had had my eye on for a long time. I went there, but of course she was half an hour late, like most people I meet. It was a ground floor apartment, nicely done, but a bit dark and the fence next to the bedroom windows was higher than the windows. I was not as convinced as before and had to think. She invited me to sit in the middle of the parlour to make myself comfortable. She said I had to pay soon as other people were interested, but I was the first one to see the apartment. I was undecided and asked to see the contract. She replied that I would get it a few days later, that wouldn't be a problem. But then I wouldn't have anything in my hand except the key. What would the contract look like? She could put whatever she wanted in there and my money would be gone. I was becoming more uncomfortable. I had the 60,000 Dalasi for half a year's rent in my handbag. I had been looking forward to this apartment and dreaming about it for a long time. I was disappointed. It wasn't what I had imagined. Finally I told her that I was very sorry but that I wouldn't take the apartment. Then a Rasta guy who I had seen walking past a few minutes earlier with an old white lady appeared immediately. He counted out the money in front of her eyes and mine. Later, back at Sky Blue, I got an angry call from her, where she snorted into the phone that she had never experienced anything like this before. As the landlord's sister-in-law she had never been treated like this. She would never hold back an apartment like she had done for me again. And with that she hung up. I decided to keep the money and start building the small residency. Now I'm here, but I should be there because the construction must continue. It's raining and I'm worried about the dogs and, more importantly, my partner. He was supposed to go back there today, but since he's been sick since yesterday, he can't go. I hope it's just a cold. As always, he doesn't say much. We'll stay here and hopefully tomorrow we can return together. Tuesday, 2 This morning I received an announcement about an exhibition that caught my attention. Masterful Attention Seekers at Busan Museum of Contemporary Art. In fact, I am someone who wants a lot of attention, or let's say, wanted it. I remember doing things to draw attention to myself, sometimes with flashy clothing, actions, pictures, texts. As far as the music was concerned, it was somehow different. It was about producing music that I found enjoyable and sharing it with others, not about cuckoo, look I'm here. And during this time of making music I actually developed a tendency to be more reserved, to no longer want to provoke, to slip into the role of the listener. I'm fine when I don't care whether others notice me or not. I am content and completely used to being for myself. Of course, I am aware that when I want to share music or an idea or anything, I have to seek the other person's attention so that they understand what I want to communicate. I thought about talking to my partner about this exhibition, but I discouraged myself to do so. Instead, I told him that I had the impression that he wasn't really interested in theory itself, by which I mean the joy of theory, and he confirmed this assumption. He is an existentialist per se. Anything that does not have to do with satisfying the basic needs of life does not interest him. However, for me, thinking - without which a theory cannot be developed - is a fundamental need of life. For me, not every theory necessarily has to be a predecessor of a subsequent practice. I like the moment of enlightenment. I also like to do things without theory. Like cooking without a recipe or starting a drawing without knowing what the outcome will be.
The Korean word Neungsuneungran (masterful) is used to describe a person who succeeds in achieving their goals through extraordinary ingenuity, precision, and adaptability in any given situation. Conversely, Gwanjong (attention seeking breed) is Korean slang combining the words Gwanshim (attention) and Jongja (breed). It represents someone who expresses a fundamental desire for attention, and is generally used negatively for someone who engages in provocative behavior intentionally to gain specific benefits, or positively for someone who creates new value through attention as a medium and their interactions with others. Therefore, Masterful Attention Seekers can be understood to refer to individuals who attract attention—whether positively or negatively—across a variety of contexts and with consummate skill. Art Space Work of the Month |