20181126: Wasserwerkgasse | Waste Treatment Plant

Werner Sprung greeted us in his office at 9 am. Two plates of pastries, a jar of water taken directly from the groundwater, and an espresso. The onsite lab at Holding Graz tests the groundwater daily for pollutants. The site is a water protection area. The building is new, compartmentalized with electronically locked doors and nearly no overhead lights required. Floor to ceiling windows illuminated the hallways. A modest two stories but thoughtfully laid out with a parking garage partially below ground level.

Before we began filming Werner stated that he trusted we wouldn't use the video for the Green Party, who would rather "throw Molotov cocktails" at him. I assured him that my interest was artistic and not propagandistic and that, while I intended to express the concerns of members of the activist group, my aim was to show the ZSK as an urban design project. I was transparent about my intention to ask him about the protest during the interview and he agreed.

Sprung showed us a presentation of the Zentraler Speicherkanal on powerpoint that included the profile of the city and the sewer system. The extent of the catchment area, the age and history of the sewer system. The statistics that he drew out, one of which was repeated, was that the combined sewer overflow would reduce 70% of the untreated wastewater entering the Mur. Prior to the ZSK only 30% of the combined sewer overflow is treated when there was rainfall. A few minutes into the presentation I realized that the only thing more mind-numbing than a powerpoint presentation is a powerpoint presentation on video. It’s not the content nor presenter, it’s the format. The audio into the C100 had reset to microphone rather than XLR when I unplugged it for transport and most of the footage was unusable. Amateur mistake.

The rainwater diversion was a motivating factor that I had heard again and again. But the benefits of the ZSK were not just reducing untreated wastewater entering the river, but the additional storage that would allow for Holding Graz to clean and renovate the existing sewers, some of which are over a century old. Currently, in order to renovate sewers, a line would be closed and the wastewater would be diverted to the Mur, increasing contamination.

The origin of the sewers in Graz followed a deadly flood in 1880 (1860?), the creeks were covered to reduce flooding; subsequently the pipes of homes were connected to the covered creeks. The idea of connected a rainwater runoff to the existing covered creeks was to wash away the smell that accumulated in the sewers.

Werner's response to the protest was that he could not understand why anyone would be against the improvement of the water quality of the Mur. He described how brown streaks can be seen on either side of the Mur during rainy days, and how anything, even bicycles, can be found in a sewer. He laughed at the suggestion of ignoring the organic waste that entered the Mur because fish liked it. His role at Holding Graz was system optimization. It was in his essay that I had first learned about the ZSK.

After the presentation, Sprung offered to show us the wastewater treatment plant.

The great thing about a city employee is they usually know a lot about random information about the built environment that would be otherwise difficult to obtain. While visiting the Schloßberg I had noticed that buildings in Graz are almost uniformly capped at four stories. The explanation, Sprung said, was that the building regulation was informed by the air quality concern for stagnating pollution that is typical for the geographic location of a city at the base of a mountain range. That is, the concern for the tiny particulate matter that the tree defenders were describing was already inscribed into the city code. But if growth was underway and height is capped, then the result is sprawl.

We passed through a 10 km long tunnel, part of the freeway that passed under the city. The design of this tunnel, Sprung noted, was a compromise between planners who wanted to add a freeway through the city and opposition that worried about the effects of automotive amputation. (It reminded me of an alternate universe in which Robert Moses’ Cross-Bronx Expressway had been designed with an iota of compassion for community.) Fortunately, tunneling is a specialty of the Austrians, and can be seen in the Schloßberg tunnels, which were used as bomb shelters in WWII. Under the Graz Hauptbahnhof there are tunneled wine cellars, no longer in use, and of course the sewer and combined sewage overflow, which are also tunnels, though constructed differently than the technique Sprung described, that is produced through the use of explosives, allowing the surrounding rock to collapse to a certain distance to increase the load pressure, like a keystone arch, before being reinforced with metal and then covered in cement. The Montanuniversitaet Leoben is one of the institutions that specialize in this peculiar form of engineering.

At the treatment plant, Werner walked us through the stages of purification, from untreated water to initial solid suspension and separation, large and small sand and gravel, bacterial treatment in anaerobic digesters (which predate New York’s Newtown Creek facility by three decades), into another holding tank and out to the final stage before being sent into the Mur. The water isn’t potable, but there are plans to implement higher purification, such as pharmaceuticals, in the coming decade. I asked Sprung about the impetus to create the wastewater treatment plant, whether the European Union Wastewater Framework directive included mandatory renovation of the sewer system. It did not, he answered, because such a directive could not be enforced across the continent, due to a lack of funding. We saw only two other people while on the tour; most of the processes in the plant must be automated.

20181210: Wet | Dry

We met Holding Graz at 9am near the Technische Universität. The tour was led by Herr Neumeister who explicitly asked not to be filmed, though he was happy to allow me to mic him for the audio tour, which he led in German. Martin Regelsberger acted as translator and Doubting Thomas. Two additional Holding Graz employees bookcased our tour group, which was about eight artists in total. Almost everyone had a camera with them.

We descended a flight of stairs into the sewer; a wide, channelized stream of clean, clear water flanked on either side by a pedestrian walkway, almost the width of a sidewalk, each flanked by a narrow, 20 cm stream of channelized wastewater, bordering the walls which arched at five meters. Overhead lights cast 4400 kelvin daylight into the segment for the tour. A wooden plank bridged the Grazbach, and Mr. Neumeister began his performance on the sewer stage.

“Das ist schmutzwasser.”

The sewer had been made in response to a fatal flood in 1860.

We came to two channelized rivers that merged into one. The name of one river was named Krabbe, referring to the once abundance of crabs found therein. Mr. Neumeister leapt over a tree branch that partially blocked the the stream and stood at the edge of the Krabbe. Graffiti on the walls explained how bikes could be found there. The tour lasted about 45 minutes and we traveled about five city blocks before surfacing through a door that rose from a sidewalk.

In the evening, Joachim Hainzl starting drawing a map of the city on a notepad. First the old city, east and adjacent to the Mur, walled with a southern gate. The green ring, now the Stadt Park, around the Innere Stadt, was once an open area necessary for defense. Jakomini Platz, developed by a benevolent landowner from what is now Slovenia, was a suburban expansion of the city for a new merchant class. Across the river a series of transportation corridors developed: for a road to Trieste, which had been the Habsburg port, extended up to Vienna. Those working in the profession stayed in the hotels and frequented brothels, both of which were still found in that part of the city. A railway was laid next to the highway, which explained the location of the Hauptbahnhof outside of the city center. The goods that were transported were produced in the industrial centers outside the expanding city, then found in the north, Andritz, west and south. The rail line snaked around the center. The workers for these jobs were housed in the urban developments still found in the neighborhoods, Graz-Neuhart and Puntigamer, which border the industrial zones. This was how Joachim began talking about Foucault, power, and the separation of wet and dry.

Joachim had a massive collection of cigarette boxes. The 55,000+ boxes were his material guide through cultural and colonial history. The collection took up one large, front room of his flat, covering one wall from floor to ceiling and several stacks of cardboard crates through which one must navigate upon entering the room. He showed me several from Vietnam. I was happy to explain the brand Thủ Đô, which commemorated the movement of the capital to from Huế to Hà Nôi, 1954-1964. To collect the packages he looks into garbage bins whenever he travels. Airports were the best.

Joachim explained his love for garbage dating back to his childhood in which he and his sister would wander over the landfill on their family’s property looking for toys. He wore his upbringing on his sleeve and made no apologies for his aspiration for middle class status, power, all the while attempting to subvert the same echelons to which he clambered. He talked about trash in the same way an unattractive man who is adored by a volatile woman finally finds his pride in being pursued. There was an emotional connection, as if the disregard of society were his relative, an abusive step father who sent him to military academy where he had found order, discipline and the animosity of other children but still revered his father.

Joachim described the landfill as ten toy shops, where everything was free. The estranged material had been his artistic material for decades. He aimed to imbue value back into waste by naming it ‘art’ and certifying its authenticity.

The parallel between material waste and social waste is not just in the vernacular used to describe entities that reside in the sphere of disutility, but also targets that demonstrate the power it is to determine something or someone useless. Just as the recycled plastics and metals must be re-used, the criminal must be re-socialized. In the contemporary context, Joachim saw the jobs which were given to immigrants as a repetition of these practices. They were park bathroom cleaners, servants. This was the thesis of Joachim’s study and the trajectory that his work has taken, or rather the reality against which he orientates his work. Joachim reminded me how much I enjoyed reading Michel Foucault.

“...the same walls could contain those condemned by common law, young men who disturbed their families’ peace or squandered their goods, people without profession, and the insane.” [1]

In order to apply the correct treatment, materials–wet or dry–must be separated. Similarly criminals in the 18th century were separated to inhibit the veterans from fostering the novices. The Eastern State Penitentiary is the manifestation of this rationale, the first prison intended for redemption through a direct relation to God, expressing penitence, of course possible only through solitary confinement. 1811.

The plan to separate rain and wastewater from the Mur, in order to treat it was being extended through the development of the Speicherkanal.

Joachim was suspicious toward the mantra of modernity, which he identified as part of the urge for the Zentraler Speicherkanal. In his recounting of the history of sewers in Graz, and the sinkholes which caused contamination of the groundwater, I heard the layers of his disdain and jealousy that his vast research had uncovered; the blatant prioritization of urbanites over the villages downstream; the exercise of political and social power over the less fortunate; and the calcification of these intangible realities in the progress and contestation of the Speicherkanal. “Everything that is culture is good. Everything that is nature or natural urges, desires, is bad.” If one eats too fast, farts or belches–all natural impulse–the person is deemed uncultured, impolite. Perhaps even worse, they were against modernity. Each time Joachim uttered the word ‘bourgeois’ I thought we were nearing the conflagration.

Within the homes of the middle and upper classes, hollow shoots led from interior toilets, down into the cellar where barrels stored the excrement. Laborers hauled these barrels up wooden ramps, which could still be seen Joachim’s apartment. Into my mind came the image of a scheduled worker, hauling drums of heavy human waste, stinking, slopping and spilling onto the street. Shit and piss dripping down the stairs of the basement. Perhaps a servant had a partial duty to clean up the shit, toiling down in the dark, damp cellar. Industries of fertilization and recycling of the excrement arose from the biosolids, but the middle class retaliated by questioning why they should have to pay for a service of hauling away barrels of shit if someone else were profiting from it, and through their protest the middle class forced these companies into bankruptcy. Later the barrels were hauled to a peripheral part of the city, where everything that was unwanted and everything that stank–the slaughterhouse, the cemetery–were dumped off bridges into the Mur. These bridges were still used for dumping snow into the Mur. This was the same part of the city in which Schaumbad was located. Most pointedly, all of these peripheral operations occurred across the Mur, the original, natural and current dividing line of class and culture in Graz.

Later hotels and the homes of upper class introduced water closets, which emptied into the same barrels. But the amount of the fluid used to flush the toilets filled the barrels too quickly. Holes were punctured in the barrels so as to let the water escape, and again the groundwater was contaminated. Again in the name of ‘modernity.’ The water closets were outlawed in response to the contagions, but the power of the upper class, driven by the urge to modernize, changed the law and connected the technology to the channelized sewers. The anecdote illustrated the the hierarchy of power and the position of the upper class, which exude power and legislation for their own convenience, toward their biological functions. Joachim implied that again, the upper class–the business owners, the hydro-power and the mayor–were rehearsing their social renovation under the name of ‘modernity.’ In practicality it was for their own position of benefit. Again modernity had brought back old problems that required new solutions. In the creation of the hydro-power plant, the existing combined sewer overflows cannot drain, so the ZSK must be built.

The waste management industry has de-pressurized the concern for landfills, although our consumption and production habits have only worsened. Joachim’s explanation was that by merely making waste productive, the scrutiny has been alleviated from the capitalist society. The creation of the population as abstract statistics, rather than numerous persons, was a movement toward bureaucratization, which occurred from 1880 to 1910. With the dehumanization of the person to a case number, the separation of mental illness grew exponentially. Everyone had some defect, some abstract ailment manifested in their personality.

All of this discussion, or talking rather, occurred in Joachim’s library, a room opposite his cigarette collection, with floor to ceiling books, all salvaged, organized and treasured by him. The work was ongoing, having been presented as a free library to the citizens of Graz. For him the books represent his aspirations for the middle class, to be in academia, his journey from a humble landfill to a middle-class landfill, organized and stacked to the ceiling.

---

[1] “Madness and Civilization: A History of Insanity in the Age of Reason,” Michel Foucault, Vintage Books, New York, 1988. pp. 45

20181219: 1493 | 2019

According to the trifold brochure:

"The Graz Double Spiral Staircase was erected in 1499/1500 by an unknown master builder in the reign of Emperor Maximilian I, the ‘Last Knight.’

The numerous signs of work on the structure attest to the stonemasons who participated in the the construction of the staircase.

The Graz staircase is not the only one of its shape in the architecture of Central Europe, but one of the most significant.

The new reference to antiquity on the threshold to the Renaissance Era is expressed on the staircase facades in the walling of two Roman gravestones from the nearby Roman town of Flavia Solva.

AEIOU Emperor who signed everything but no one knows what AEIO means.”

This was where the tour with Werner began on Wednesday morning. I didn’t expect a cultural trip; actually I expected just a meeting in his office. But he showed me the double spiral, which was just across the street from my apt. I walked past it almost everyday. But I never learned about it because I hadn’t opened the orientation folder that was given to me on the first day at Afro-Asiatische Institut.

The next stop, the Graz Plague Mural, I had seen before and had included in my film. A fresco on the outside of the cathedral recounted God’s message to his disciplines, the church’s role in educating men, the invasion of the Turks into Europe and Graz, and the death toll of the Black Plague on the citizens.

In the Graz Cathedral we looked at the red and cream-colored floor tiles; stones from Salzburg. The Cathedral is a mixture of styles: a gothic ceiling with ceiling skulls replaced with wooden paintings of the Styrian leopard, an Italian Renaissance backdrop behind the altar, which is flanked by two ivory boxes, which I supposed held the sacred remains of saints; the boxes themselves are encased in glass, which itself may be encased in something else in the future. The roof of the cathedral is pierced at the head and aft of the roof with copper turrets, one for air, one for a clock. Both were likely additions around 200 years ago. The doors to the cathedral open with an automatic sensor, introduced in the last five years.

We walked down to the Glockenspiel, which first chimed on Christmas eve of 1905. We had breakfast at Frankowisch, where he told me that you can always see if the an establishment in Austria is serving bad coffee when they serve sparkling water along side. The sparkling hides the bad aftertaste. But with good coffee still water is served, so one can rinse the pallet and enjoy the flavor anew.

When the coffee was almost done and the pastries eaten, almost two hours since we met, Werner mozied to the purpose of the meeting: Holding Graz was not happy. Actually, Werner framed it this way: “You’re lucky. You’re the last person who will be allowed to film at the wastewater treatment plant.” There had been a meeting with the higher ups and Werner had taken some flack.

I was not entirely surprised; in fact I was a little surprised that Holding Graz had allowed me to film there in the first place. It’s completely forbidden in New York. I asked if they were still going to lead students there, for educational purposes. He said yes, but in general Holding Graz was tightening their grip on their image and would not allow Steve Weiss’s college class to tour their Andritz facility.

I understood with their impulse to try to reduce the risk of public criticism, but I disagreed with their approach. The impulse for Holding to decrease transparency was a mistake, I told Werner. Rather they should increase transparency in certain areas. Opacity was the reason these three parties of environmentalist Austrians were at each other’s necks. Openness, dialogue and cross-collaboration was the only way to gracefully produce the democratic future.

The Landezeughaus was the next stop on the tour, an enormous, historic building, the largest armory in the world, storing enough weapons and armor for 10,000 men. It was right behind the Mayor’s building in Hauptplatz and closed in the winter, except for guided tours. Visually, the Landezeughaus is stunning: all dark wood structures holding mostly dark wood muskets, swords and armor. It served as the stockade against Napoleon’s men in 1809; the more expensive armor expressed the wealth of its production but also the current owners.

During lunch at Schmankerlstube I perfected the rhythm and patience of Graz. No question can be answered in more than two sentence and between the answer and the next question a duration of silence that is at least as long as another question must endure. It was an excruciating pace, but it allowed both parties to essentially eat at the same rhythm.

We both ordered Halbbeuschel, veal lungs stew with a dumpling in the middle. Toward the end of the meal, Werner invited me to join him and some other water enthusiasts to sail the Adriatic sea in the summertime. I was flattered. We paid, walked to Hauptplatz where I began to apologize for any trouble I may have caused him with his superiors. He answered that he was an old rabbit and knew how to carry on. Then, under the Weikhard Uhr, we shook hands and he dashed off to catch a tram back to work.

Halbbeuschel

Innards can be found very often in the Viennese cuisine and are highly estimated amongst gourmets. The Beuschel (veal lungs) supposedly is a Jewish dish and is that prominent in the Viennese cuisine that the term has found its way even into everyday speech and is colloquially used as a synonym for „lungs“. Therefore, a „Beuscheltelefon“ (literally: lung telephone) is the medical diagnosis tool stethoscope. Enjoy!

Serves: 4

Ingredients:

Beuschel:

600 g (1,4 lb) veal lungs
1 veal heart
1 root vegetables (parsley, carrots, celery stalk)
6 peppercorns
3 allspice corns
1 bay leaf
1 spring thyme (small)
1 onion (small)
salt

Final stage:
40 g (1/8 cup) butter
30 g (1/4 cup) flour
1 cooking spoon capers
1 onion (small) , halved
1 anchovy fillet (finely chopped)
1 clove garlic (chopped)
lemon rind (grated)
1 tbsp parsley (finely chopped)
dash of vinegar
sugar
pinch of ground marjoram
smidgen of mustard
2 tbsps sour cream
2 tbsps cream
dash of lemon juice
salt
ground pepper
4 tbsps goulash sauce (for serving)

Preparation:

Separate the veal lung from the windpipe and gullet. Soak well, piercing several holes in the lung so that water can get into the cavity. Fry the onion, cut surfaces down, in a pan until golden brown. Fill a large pot with cold water, add lungs and heart and bring to boil. Add to the pot the root vegetables, peppercorns, allspice corns, bay leaf, thyme, salt and onion. Simmer until meat is tender.

Remove the lung after about 1 hour and rinse with cold water to cool. Leave the heart in the stock for at least another 30 minutes, until very tender, then remove. Heat some of the stock in another saucepan and bring to boil. Meanwhile, cut the lung and heart finely, removing any cartilage.

For the final stage, heat some butter in a casserole dish. Sprinkle in the flour and sauté until light brown. Add the finely chopped ‘innards seasoning': capers, onion, anchovy fillet, garlic, lemon rind, and parsley. Let draw on low heat for a few minutes. Add the reduced stock, stir well and cook for 15-20 minutes until thick. Add the innards and season with salt, pepper, vinegar, sugar, marjoram and mustard. As soon as the ragout is thick, stir in the sour cream and cream. Simmer for another 5-10 minutes. Add lemon juice to taste and serve with a few drops of hot goulash juice and serve with bread dumplings.