Arts

20181218: Garbage | Drawings

At 11h I called Walter Felber over Google Hangouts and he immediately began to talk about the contract which I had sent him. His concern was the application of his System Felber®, which I had inadvertently filmed while visiting his flat. I had little interest in using that footage, other than perhaps to show the amount of collecting, storing and categorizing of junk in his apartment and during the conversation I already decided to not use that material. He insisted on sending me a five-sentence contract to clarify that the material could be used and published for personal interest but that it could not be used for commercial interest. When I mentioned that the material with which I was most interested was actually about the Grazbach, and not the System Felber, he stated that it was fine to use that material as I wished.

I visited the Neue Galerie Joanneum to decompress and saw the Günter Brus show. It turned out that Gunter Brus had his own museum, the Bruseum. The revelation was confound. I found the whole taxonomical system and relationship between buildings, rooms and institutions a little confusing in Graz. I mentioned this in regard to how this fellowship was a collaboration of different organizations, but this Bruseum was another level of abstraction. The Neue Galerie was a building and museum, which was part of the Universalmuseum Joanneum system. Within the Neue Galerie was the Bruseum, which were several rooms, a wing even, of the Neue Galerie, dedicated to the artist. But just across the staircase were rooms that were not the Bruseum, which were just the Neue Galerie, and had entirely different works and exhibitions that had nothing to do with the Günter Brus.

The show that I came to see was awesome. I learned of Günter Brus and the Viennese Actionists decades ago, even before graduate school, and had really loved their work. It was so disgusting; it seemed like a time capsule that was both dated but also indicative of this other time when everything that we knew and valued today didn’t matter at all. Two things were clear in the Bruseum: Günter Brus was troubled and not by laziness. The hundreds of drawings of bodily mutilation were a refreshing reminder of juvenile drawings that simply could not be done today without someone calling the police or prescribing something. I really loved his use of staples and aluminum foil in his drawings.

In his drawings, the body looks like a machine, a city, with processes occurring through body parts. The drawings series spanned decades and thus left the scope of a series, or serial production in which an artist turned out dozens of drawings in a short period, for example in advance of a show, and enters the scale of a preoccupation. The books were great.

Across the stairwell I saw the collection shows. The paintings of Fritz Martinz, remniscent of Lucien Freud, were quite nice. Volumnus nudes rendered with a scribbled identity, also recall the misanthropic disposition of Egon Schiele. I learned of Wilhelm Thony, a Secession artist whose cosmopolitan, even global biography was impressive, given he died in 1949. Born in Graz, he made work in Munich, Paris, Cote d’Azur and New York, where he died. His works are people of culture; suit wearers, urbanites, in social situations, which may be as mundane as walking on a bridge, or standing near the Seine. Stylistically he appears a protege of Cezanne, but without structure; lose, muddy, absent of fore or background; post-impressionistic; brush strokes as contours. Personally, I didn’t care for his work, it didn’t move me, but in looking at it I realized a role that art once played: it could travel. And artists as well. And because artists and works could travel, artistic styles too traveled, particularly between cities. Because that’s where cars, boats, planes and trains went.

On the way back to Priesterseminar I picked up a pastry and took a tea break with Zihua. What I anticipated to be a 30 minute chat evolved into a much longer discussion that included Ksenya about styles of filming, cinema verite, Vox populi, documentaries and art films. Did we feel an obligation to truth? Her background with journalism/journalistic ethic, my aversion from art that sells, or deals, truth.

At 18h I met Michael and Marleen under the Weikhard Uhr, a traditional meeting place in Graz. I loved that Graz had a predetermined, widely known meeting location and that there was a clock there to confirm punctuality. A meeting really consists of three variables: a place, a time, and a person(s). Under the Weikhard Uhr one find a cluster of waiters, awaiting. It was beautiful. Every city needs a public-clock meeting place.

We went to a Cafe Mitte off Freiheitsplatz; sort of Thai-inspire fare dulled down for the Austrian palette and supplemented with Austrian spirits. I had a Zwetschenscahps, plum liquor. Later I had a vogelbeerschnapps, distilled from pine cone seeds that were first collected for baiting birds. It was the more expensive of the schapps on the list, though in terms of flavor profile, I thought it was similar to the plum: an essence, rather than flavor. Like a vodka, but with tact.

Michael and Marleen were great to talk to because there was an ecosystem that they’ve developed, into which one was visiting during the conversation. They had positions and rebuttals to the other’s position; I didn’t hit anything dramatically sensitive. Less of a minefield and more of walking across the bedroom of an adolescent while not wearing shoes. We chatted about Graz, Günter Brus and making art. It was light, friendly and I left with the feeling that I’d like to see them again, and that I would, maybe in an airport or art exhibition somewhere.

20181220: Maribor | Riso

Lithopolis is a book of 30 pages comprised of images of the various stones in Graz. Text about the our geological relationship to cities is broken up with images of stones.

“The city is a Stone Age technology, made over with metal and information.”

I printed the book at Risograd, a community studio within Schaumbad, located just off the main lobby. Once a week, they were open to the public, or their public, of zinesters and book artists. The studio was directed by Martin Trollman and Hanna Stein. The first day I was there, an artist from Serbia, who had a just acquired his own Riso, was printing Christmas cards of Jesus, using gold ink. It drew an international crowd.

Riso is a technology that is like letterpress, in that paper is rolled over an inked surface, only the plate is created using a mask that can be digitally burnt. Each drum is a single color and in order to create multiple colors, a page must be run through the machine multiple times. The machine looks like a copy machine. Risograd has four machines, two of which partially work, but complementary to each other. Riso produces a rasterized image, not a photographic duplicate, and, because I printed each page in a single tone, the images of rocks look more like textures than photos, but I liked the aesthetic.

The first day at Risograd I printed my book for about six hours. The title page is black with gold ink; the following pages white with black ink; a few central pages with only stone and no text are black with gold ink; the colophon page is again black with gold ink. In a cross-section view, the book looks layered like geologic structure. For the cover and back, I ordered stone paper made of rock minerals and plastic; it appears like vellum and is waterproof and semi-transparent. I learned about changing the drums, the peculiarities such as multiple pages being picked up by the machine at the same time, meaning the bottom page isn’t printed on. The second day I just trimmed two of the four sides of the pages in order to reduce the size and weight of the paper for travel.

Printing thirty copies cost about 120 € plus a donation. Martin framed the donation as “pay whatever you can; some people pay 5€ and some pay 100€.” I had no idea what this meant in terms of money, so prior to picking up the book, I asked Iris what she suggested: 20€. I paid a total of 150€, or 29€ but Martin said, “If that’s good for you, it’s good for us.” What? I got the sense he was scoffing at my donation, but I said ‘fuck it: if they expected a precise, larger amount, they should have suggested a percentage rather than quantity in previous donations.’

The other strange request was not only a copy of the book for the archive, which at first I was confused as to whether they expected me to pay (ultimately Martin clarified that they did not expect me to pay for it) but a second “finished and bound copy” which I was supposed to donate, again for the archive. I guess this was because I didn’t have time nor materials necessary to finish book while in Graz. I thought it was strange for a community center to request a copy for their archive without sponsoring the production of the work. I sponsored it by paying for it. Archival donations are very common in residency programs, or organizations that may use the works to raise funds, but Martin specified that they do not sell their archive.

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I met Simon Žlahtič, a curator at Guest Room Maribor in Slovenia, at Cafe Mitte to talk about art, ecology, and the possibility of working together. Maribor had a sister-city relationship between Graz, Lebanon and Serbia; Simon spent lots of time with the artists at Schaumbad. Guest Room Maribor also has a residency program, similar to Das Land Steiermark, which included housing and a stipend.[1] They shared similar interests. Simon told me about a project that they launched in storefront windows to educate the local community about the use of pristine land in Maribor for an industrial plant. The project against which they were protesting had similar aspects to the construction of the Speicherkanal: secret, early planning stages between government and industry; environmental degradation for the benefit of a private company; and the government incentivization based on the promise of jobs and tax money.

We talked for about 90 minutes when Ana, Simon’s partner, arrived to pick up Simon. Simon asked if I would be willing to share my video with him for a screening at Maribor. I agreed, but noted that, like my meeting with Werner Sprung, it seemed that the purpose of the meeting was quite delayed.


[1]Guest Room Maribor http://www.guestroommaribor.si/?fbclid=IwAR3m8dgFG1P2m5lW0r5rwVGpIgidsGVRExbpbI0O76y6Pjmj1UPtiFC2NS0