art haus berlin

@ takt residency, Friedrichshain (
An artist residency. Bunch of complete strangers living together in Berlin making art.

Thursday, 12 September 2013

happy snappy

As an intern, I take a lot of photos. I do my best to cull the blurry and the mid-blinking expressions. But it's these unflattering photos that are the most curious. You think you know someone. Then you catch them in a photo where some demonic creature has taken over their body. It makes you question, how well do you really know about this person?

On the other hand, there are the happy blurry photos that you can't help but smile at. I dont care if this shows my generation. But if the iPhone makes you happy, then who gives a .

Friday, 30 August 2013

Hannah Quinlivan - Draw me in the picture

Hannah Quinlivan's drawings are not windows you look through. Lifting off the wall, they share the space you breath in. Twisting ripples of metal, wire, paper and graphite traces. Echoing tensions between positive and negative space, the light and the casted shadow.

Sprung from a memory, Hannah Quinlivan's drawings are not illustrations but rather the motion of remembering. Personally my memories are a scrambling around the dark with bruised knees. The organic mindscape of Quinlivan's memories are more elegant and poignant. Like the histories of time in nature. Visually in vein with layered rock strata, tree ring circles, and microscopic organisms wiggling about the gallery space.

Naomi Sex - it spoke

Watching the artist talk. It's a curious thing. Primarily accustomed to the visual language, artists are not typically your best orators. Yet in the contemporary industry of being a 'professional' artist we expect these artist talks and statements. But does this really make the artist legit?

Naomi Sex plays with the performative elements of the contemporary art world. From artist talks, to panel symposiums, to exhibition selection processes and rituals. A humourous dialogue between language, puns and props. Balancing between the critical and the satirical. Yes, the contemporary art world is a self consciously weird place.

Wednesday, 28 August 2013

behind the sun- The Night Book

"Everyone has their own idea of the night"

Thinking about the 'night' is like staring at yourself in the mirror. Are you really there? Is that really you? In a sense there is no division between night and day. Just planets rolling around space. Its always night somewhere and always day somewhere else.

But printmakers are practical people. Thinking about the press won't make that impression. Unless you're adverse in Jedi mind control and telekinesis. Drawing on their varied experiences of the night, The Night Book is a mammoth concertina of 110 different perceptions of the night.

"One sleeps in the night, you suffer, you sneezed, you love, you think you're snoring, you are dreaming…"


Tuesday, 27 August 2013

Artistic Inspiration

Where does the artist find their inspiration?

It's a dog eat dog world out there. The apocalyptic landscape, like an artist staring at a blank canvas: what the fuck am I doing, why am I here?

The word inspiration comes from the Latin 'inspirare', 'to breathe into'. Next time you're lost for thoughts ask someone to breath into your face. You may get an idea. Or you may still be asking yourself what the fuck am I doing?

I can't really answer this question. But I do like what the buffalo said in a song: "do what you do." Yes, the buffalo are wise.

Thursday, 22 August 2013

Q&A with Ashvini Ray

Four fingered questions with Ashvini Ray:

>> How would you describe your process?
It’s a very precise process where I start with an idea and step by step carry it out. The process is precise, considered, exact, even obsessive. I think the viewer can get a glimpse of this in my work. You could say the finished work is a physical study of my process. My work embodies the process without illustrating it. You could think of my practice as the context and my artwork as the content within it.

>> What draws you to materials?
I’m instinctively drawn to certain materials. It is hard to pin point what it is that I look for when considering materials. I’m a very tactile person so texture is something I’m definitely attracted too. I tend to use neutral colours, in order to move the focus to the form and tension. I use materials that I can manipulate into the aesthetic I want.

>> Is your work heavy and falling or light and jumping up?
Both. I like playing with that idea of something being really heavy but at the same time appearing completely weightless.

>> How does your self and your work relate?
I feel like my work and I have similar personalities. There is this calm exterior but on closer observation its mayhem. I would describe it as ordered disorder. Although there is a scattered and somewhat chaotic nature to my work, each piece is carefully thought out and organised.

(note: sneak peek photo of work in progress)

Sunday, 18 August 2013

A Gallery called home.

There was a little white house. It was very square, clean - neat. A very select group of objects sat in this house. But this house was a bit weird. Life was not quite real inside. The air was still. The lights stared at the objects, but casted no shadows. It was like floating in a thought bubble. This little white house never quite felt like home. I often felt like I had out stayed my welcome.

Around the corner was another house. It had a red door. The windows were open and the air breezed through. The couches hugged you like a friend.  Someone was always home. Time cruised by. The afternoons were long, the nights were deep. We were always chatting. This house was a speech bubble. Ideas brainstormed. Thoughts inspired. But again, reality is confused. This house feels like home, but nobody lives here.

Thursday, 15 August 2013

Q&A with Francesca Ulivi

Five fingered questions with Francesca Ulivi:

Francesca Ulivi plays with the idea of identity and what we buy into. Consumerism, the meaning of life and Ulivi's addictive sense of humour.

>>Who are you? (describe your character)
Very much like a fruit fly, occasionally banging repeatedly on glass window.

>>Can you see yourself in your work?
Definitely, more in its tone than in its aesthetic.

>>How do you approach your studio?
I don’t really have habits since my practice varies a lot in media. Something that I do often with my work is to throw myself in things I am not comfortable in doing, as some sort of self-inflicted personal challenge.

>>Do you think consumerism is weird?
It’s definitely an entertaining, very interesting machine. Gives people new thrills, desires; it tells and shows how we should feel.

>>How would you describe the relationship between middle-class consumerism and high-society consumerism?
A lot of products are now becoming available for middleclass consumers and therefore can’t function anymore as symbols of elite status. Companies are “smart,” I mean why to appeal to a few, when you can make a lot of money appealing and being affordable by many? So I guess shopping has become more “fun” for middle class consumers, because they can finally buy and show off high brands, buying a Dolce and Gabbana perfume or a Louis Vuitton wallet for example.

On this line of thought, you could say that consumerism has become “harder” for high society consumers because now they need more creativity to stand out from general people. A whole bunch of ridiculous packaged experiences and products come out to appeal to them, which has been good material for my work.

It’s just all wrong.

Wednesday, 14 August 2013

The finissage: full circle

It's over. Now what the hell do we do?

Parting ways can be an awkward business: the lingering hug, a pat on the shoulder, some clique catchphrase. Why not have a beer, a burly hug and burp in each other's face. The "Finissage" is an exhibition's closing event. Useful for super busy people and chronic sleepers.

We returned to the Circle Show for it's finissage. Mainly because the Urban Spree spread is such a random place to hang out. See some art, read a zine, do some rock climbing, grab a beer and currywurst, hit the skate ramp (preferably not with your head, but it happens).

The Circle Show @Urban Spree. Corner Revaler Str. + Warschauer Str. 10245 Berlin.

Sunday, 11 August 2013

Picture Berlin Residency @Lobe

Shannon Patrick's work greets you in the group show from the Picture Berlin residency. Her work doesn't say "Hello, would you like a drink?". They're photographs. Photographs don't have mouths. Unless their portraits. To me, Patrick's work smells like a residency. It's hard to explain. The in-between moments in living out of a suitcase; the Ikea bedspread.; the stillness in the air. Those moments of silence where being bored becomes the poetry of a foreign city.

One sunny morning a young artist, fresh from art school, flew into Berlin from California. Wided-eyed and eager to live, she signed up to a 5-week intensive artist residency. First the clouds blow in. Then the rain follows. Running from curator talk to artist studio, 6 days a weeks. Exhausted, the artist finds herself standing in a puddle of mud. Her shoes are getting wet. When she cuts a lemon, it squirts her in the eye.

Sometimes we embark on things we know will be filled with stress and pain. But amongst the tears and skinned knees we expect to make some kind of revelation, to get 'something' out of it. It really sucks if you dont. But that's the quirk of optimism: something may be a total fail, but in that you also just found something you dont like. A small self-discovery. Optimism can be exhausting like that.

Isabel Rock - Blue Banana, Goblin Gold

Isabel Rock describes a folklore of goblins, shadow warriors and pineapples in 'Blue Banana, Goblin Gold'. Set against a mountainous terrain of croissant-hills and penis trees, the landscape is surreal as it is familiar. Greedy goblins with an excessive addiction for blue oblong shapes, echo our own monsters of insatiable consumerism. The bloodthirsty shadow warriors spring from our deepest repressed dark thoughts. Whilst happy, vegetarian pineapple people are helpless victims in this political war. The tension arches to a climax in the visual clash of goblins, shadow warriors and pineapple peoples with their counterpart psyches in tow.

Rock's drawing aesthetic delights and plays between the humorous characters and their sinister compulsions. There's goblins in the basement, pineapples casualties on the gallery floor and shadow warriors terrorising the fruit bowl. Isabel Rock is in town.

Tuesday, 6 August 2013


My mechanical pencil tired of writing between the lines. In an inspired moment, it took it's first bold step in the world. Only it lacked feet and legs. Pierced the floor nose first, with grace and elegance.

Monday, 5 August 2013

Juliet Fang : 'Move Me'

Juliet Fang responds to the experience of loss. Objective existence is turned inside out. Rejecting the physical world to project a landscape of the mind. An installation of objects playing with the negative space. These spacial voids offer moments of escape. The variety of materials utilised describe the inconsistency and brittleness of our emotions.

Working intuitively, Fang explores the tensions between objects and their placements. Her hyper awareness in spatial relationships create nervous and charged effects. The conceptual encounter and exploration of loss as subject, surfaced naturally. An aesthetic twinged with a shadow. 'Move Me' pushes the gallery's interior into the mind's vacuum.

"I am interested in the experience with no real existence in the world," -Juliet Fang.

Juliet Fang, born in Taiwan, lives in London, exhibiting in Berlin at Kunstraum Tapir: Move Me.

Sunday, 4 August 2013

Monday: Juliet Fang's opening

"the experience of no real existence…" - Juliet Fang

Existence can be overrated. Often we search for those transcending moments. Through art, film, music, spacing-out in group conversations, waiting for for laundry to finish. Everyday existence can be complicated. Multi-tasking is frequently required. It's no wonder we  involuntarily retreat into our lumpy brains.

Juliet Fang opens a space similar to the mind's landscape. It's not bulgy and pinkish like the brain. It's inconsistent with shifting relationships between objects. Dynamic tensions pulling on the negative spaces. Traditional foreground, middle ground, back ground is no longer grounded. Fang deconstructs and reinterprets the physics of space. Where does the work start and end? Are you also an object in the exhibition? Within her aesthetic there is a darkness. An uneasy twinge in the atmosphere. Echoing the feeling of loss and fragility of existence.

The Monday night opening is well suited to these thoughts. The dulling sense that the weekend has slipped away and you are left with daily grind of monday to friday. When does existence start and stop?

Monday 5th Aug opening 19:00-22:00 Juliet Fang @tapir 
(Weserstrasse 11, 10247 Berlin-Friedrichshain)

Saturday, 3 August 2013

art: In Summer No One Dies @idrawalot

Down on Boddinstrasse is a gallery. Inside a bearded man is smiling. Across from him there is a mural of another bearded man eating an ice-cream. I don't have a beard. I'm a girl. But I still feel welcomed. Its summer time with furry people and Elvis Presley crooning in the background.

"In Summer No One Dies" is both humble and a bit weird. The drawings are light and very likeable. But a beach umbrella has impaled a fisherman and 2x swimmers like a kebab-sewer and continues to wreak havoc. In the gallery, bopping to the 1950s background music, you can't help but smile at this.

Accompanying Bárbara Fonseca's illustrations are short stories by her father Luis Germano. The stories share the same similar twisted charm. Perhaps it runs in the family. The exhibition is also translated into a zine. Printed on happy yellow paper. Best kept refrigerated after opening. A slice of summer baked on paper. I think I'll reopen this in the winter.

@ idrawalot (Boddinstrasse 60, 12053 Berlin)

Friday, 2 August 2013

Q&A with Juliet Fang (a six-pack of questions)

>>How would you describe yourself and your personality?
I guess I am trying to be different person everyday; and I make mistakes four times a day (sometimes more).

>>How do you see the outside world?
I like to watch people walking on the street and imaging where they go or what they think, which is more beautiful way to keep distance with people like that.

>>How would you describe the world inside your artwork?
I am interested in the experience with no real existence in the world, only happening in the brain as a beautiful escape.  For example river and double room; river is a metaphor of the inside, outside and illusion of river, which have special power to cure people completely and point out the direction of exit. I feel myself more like water, down to the ground and disappear to unknown world.

Sometimes I feel myself as double room as well, which means inside and outside, clear and blur. Double room is a metaphor for people who have two thoughts at the same time, or two people share a one thought. I am so interested in the ambiguous of word and image, especially two meaning in one word. People could be a container, space or emotion. I am fond of these key words and so many ways to explain these ideas, which leaving much possible imagination in my mind with uncertain answers.

>>How does your artwork respond to “exploring the feeling of loss”?
Through the language of object itself, I do reconstruction and arrangement its relationship between object and space, every piece of works have its own language to express the feeling of loss and fragile.

>>Did you aspire to fit into an artistic discipline?
I don’t know exactly what I want to be; maybe collector is more suitable for my situation right now.

I think we do something we like to do; even though sometimes it causes us so much suffering that we will never do that again. But we always do, many times over.

>>How do you choose your materials?
I pick up line, glass, paper, cloth, water, knife, wooden sticks, bottle…. to be the objects I use for this exhibition, which relate to my imagination about the feeling of loss because they all have strong language and I know how to use it.

Juliet Fang's exhibition Move Me opens Monday @7-10pm Tapir 
(Weserstrasse 11, 10247 Berlin-Friedrichshain)

art: The Circle Show @Urban Spree

Urban Spree has the vision of a contemporary arts institution with the raw, sharp edge of Berlin's street kids. These days curatorship focuses on extending beyond what's hanging on the gallery wall. Museums team up with public programs, scheming towards offering an 'audience experience', followed by world domination.

Down some steps from Warschauer Strasse, Urban Spree sprawls out like spilt ketchup on the sidewalk. A large playground of dirt, art, beer, burgers, and dj's; framed with fencing and graffiti. The art is fresh, the parties run late.

On exhibition: The Circle Show. At face-value: give them a circle, see what you get back. Sure, we could overthink each artist's take on the circle with deep, probing observations and theorise a psychological analysis of the artists' childhood fears and dreams. But the show is less about the circle's geometry. This is more than a gallery's wall or a blank circular canvas. It's a bubble of people sharing bubbly beer. These artists are here, now, and all over the world. That big, big planet-circle.

ps- Today's the last day

The Circle Show. July 13 - August 2 (12:00-18:30)
Urban Spree. Corner Revaler Str. + Warschauer Str. 10245 Berlin.

Wednesday, 31 July 2013

art: Miguel Lope Inumerable: drawing out your thoughts

Some people enjoy the simple life. They hear what they want to hear and prefer not to over think things. Miguel Lope Inumerable's work is not like this.

It is the intricacy and detail that draws you in. The strings of fine, delicate lines- contained and protected by the crisp outline. Inumerable's work is both figurative and abstract, vibrating with details shifting, interlocking and folding inward. The detail is an internal structure. Tightly bound emotions just under the skins surface. Inumerable's characters are complex, multifaceted and introverted. They have a unique strength and force within their anatomy. Deep thoughts rooted in the psyche's core. These drawings are hyper aware of their surroundings. Picking up on the slightest external influences to process and analyse internally. There is a lot that passes us unnoticed in this world. Maybe you tuned out when your friend was talking. But these drawings hear it all. They just probably won't tell you.

Monday, 29 July 2013

art: Keith Telfeyan "I Was A Daydream"

Why do we daydream? Is it a consequent, a post-state to thinking too much? Like a hangover after a big night drinking. Or is it an involuntary act our brains perform to obtain a healthy balance in varying the intensity of our own thoughts. (Wiki's Daydream.)

Sundays in Berlin are like a city in a daydream. A half there, lazy ghost town. Most stores are closed. Life is simple. Sunday, just a day in the sun.

Against this landscape Keith Telfeyan's video work "I Was A Daydream" played. Time in the gallery lingered, kind of vacant. The smooth rhythmic sounds behind this daydream had an effect of softening your thoughts semi-transparent. It is true we didn't do much work in the residency, unconsciously entranced by Telfeyan's daydream.

art: Sebastien Pesot in "It is Already Tomorrow"

"The Statement. It is a good excersize but its painful. Its a brain muscle. But I have to do it, all the time." -S. Pesot

Canadian artist, Sebastien Pesot turns on his own artist statement. Cutting the text up, roughing the paper, slicing a video performance to pieces then mashing it together. Against the inner turmoil and angst of this post-punk work, a short simple performance makes a statement with a smile. Pesot puts himself literally inside the artwork pulling a tension between the screen, object and his body.

"Before I was shooting video and watching the world and putting and editing all into that screen, that space. And then, I just switched the camera. And then start to shoot at my actions. Which was surprising, because I'm not as interesting as the world, I'm just a guy again. And the world has so much more than me. It caused a very big change in the way I work, to shoot at me and then to not just think inside the box or the screen. It was in the same moment/time that I started to use performance as well as video." -S. Pesot

The white cube gallery has a tendency to highlight the artist statement as a primary point of access into the artist's work. These words become such an important component of the work; revisited and revised through the artist's career. Should then authors illustrate their own book covers? Some artists are ambidextrous with images and words. But at Kreuzberg Pavillon, this gallery is not square and the walls are black (not white). Is punk really dead?

It is Already Tomorrow Group Show @ Kreuzberg Pavillon: Mit Borras, Sébastien Pesot and Judith Sönnicken.

haus: Dickson's closing party

Dickson Schneider is currently airborne on his way to Oakland (US) with the Free Art Project in his rucksack. From Friday's closing exhibition party to Schneider's last night celebration, late nights tuned late mornings. Leaving today feeling distinctively like Monday.

Why do we only celebrate the opening of an exhibition? Especially when the beer is so cheap in Berlin.

Friday, 26 July 2013

art: the art experience

In the gallery. After exchanging a deep connection with an inanimate object- well this in itself if a bit odd. Of course it's an illusion. But we want to believe we're in that 2D painting. That instinct, empathy.

Following this dysfunctional interaction, like talking to yourself, if we're with company we want them to share the very same experience. We watch them exchanging a deep connection with an inanimate object. Satisfying. It's particularly unsatisfying if you're company doesn't get it. You'll argue the character of this inanimate object until you both agree or agree to disagree. This isn't weird behaviour. This is cultured and civilised society.

Thursday, 25 July 2013

art: what the cube?!

The art gallery is a weird phenomenon. What exactly are we looking for when we step into that white cube? Maybe reflection of ourselves. Or an inanimate object to connect with and revere its splendour.

How much would you pay for an object embodying this precious experience? Perhaps the tease of unattainability of the object is what heightens the moment. Would you take it if it was free?

closing party (friday 4-7pm @ weserstrasse 11, friedrichshain-berlin)
re: Dickson Schneider's thurday exhibition @ tapir

art: dumb and smarter

Dumb jokes are great. They make you groan and smile at the same time. A perfect balance in life.

Sometimes contemporary artists take themselves too seriously. It's nice to laugh at their work. Not to make them feel uncomfortable, but to make yourself feel happy. The minimal asymmetric over-designed aesthetic can be depressing and generally superficial. But if a piece of string and a bouncy ball can make you laugh, then that's a beautiful thing. It's the simple stuff.

Dickson Schneider's The Dumb Show wants you to laugh. Don't let the superficial hipster-artist annoy you with their posing. Let them make you smile at their curious seriousness of stuff that's kind of dumb.

<I'm yellow>   <I'm pink>   >I'm a door<

re: Dickson Schneider's thurday exhibition @ tapir

Wednesday, 24 July 2013

art: vacancy

re: Dickson Schneider's wednesday exhibition @ tapir

Some say art is a window. Sometimes I look out of a window, but not at anything. Maybe I have a pretty vacant, dumb expression on my face. Some art can be like this too. You're looking at it, but not particularly into it. This is not necessarily a bad thing. On a sluggish Wednesday morning this vacant staring is comforting and soothing.

The problem with windows is people can see your dopey, zombie expressions. When you're vacant staring at art, you look cultured and intellectual. People around you become curious to look at what you're so captured with. You might be dead brained, but you're effectively making the person looking over your shoulder really think about the art. Although there's nothing there, your neighbour just might think up the meaning of life. 

Tuesday, 23 July 2013

art: the end.

re: Dickson Schneider's tuesday exhibition @ tapir
"All the Living and the Dead" is the last line of James Joyce's book The Dead

You can blame Dickson for spoiling the end. But I actually love reading the last line or paragraph in novels. There is a strange out of context feeling about them. You can read what ever you want in them. Like horoscopes, take what you want to hear and filter the rest. 

art: All the Living and the Dead - Dickson Schneider

Drawings of cyclists and passer-byers hang around the gallery walls. Just passing time, maybe off the get some groceries. Oblivious, these drawings are mildly happy in their own space of white wall. 

Waiting in the floor's centre is a small pile of paper tombstone drawings. Empty. "We're all empty tombstones in the end" -D. Schneider 

There's a weird awareness of our own mortality in the background. Not something we think of consciously. A first morning's thought is not usually: "oh, I'm still alive". But the Grimm Reapers pokes a sharp reminder of our looming demise when realise we're getting older. Slowing dying a little bit each day. Like a film noir suspense soundtrack or stretching an elastic band,  this tension makes life just a little bit more interesting.

art: the white cube melted in the sun

Ever been stranded on an island before? New art museum: a man made island.
Who needs land when you've got imagination.

This link via concrete playground, via the creator's project, via design boom. Sharing is caring.

Monday, 22 July 2013

art: Berlin Remix - Dickson Schneider

Some cities are best described by their culture, weather, traffic or maybe their unfortunate smell. Berlin I find is best described by its texture. Dickson Schneider's scratchy collages of torn street posters really grip the paper with it's texture. There is a gritty, whatever-coolness about Berlin. A simple straightforwardness to life's daily grind. This is the character I read from Berlin Remix. These works are not self conscious or pretentious. Just drawings. Impressions of Berlin.

But I'm likely to be bias. Living with Dickson in the Takt residency, I know he's not an artsy-fartsy egotist. He's a straight up character with a Californian accent and a dry-witty humour. 

Sunday, 21 July 2013

haus: what kind of painting are you?

If you were a painting what kind of painting would you be?

alice: I think I'd be acrylic. I can be impatient and I'm not very slick.

ash: Probably watercolour. Actually no... I like... the way you can manipulate it... Like sometimes its really quite prominent, then other times its much lighter. Sort of. I think its more fluid. I think that's the word I'm looking for.

dickson: Definitely oil painting. It's the coolest thing ever invented. Acrylic is totally nerdy; it's like painting with glue.

keith: Hmm, Dickson took oil, huh? That is great stuff... I'm gonna go with light. Can I say "light" and not sound too pretentious? Hmm, maybe not. Oh well. Light. I like to think that as a camera-based artist, my work is still basically painting, but with light. Yeah.

haus: sundays

Crap- sundays. Shops are closed. Guess its onions and potatoes for dinner again.

haus: two sides of a door

There are subtle dynamics working and living in a residency. Closing your studio door is a loud "Don't talk to me" statement. I feel uncomfortable shutting people out. But, I also like that eery stillness when all the doors are closed or no one's awake yet. The simple architecture of a closed/open door or window has a such an effect on the character/mood of a moment. I wonder if you could actively control this. Say, if a flatmate is brooding alone in their room - go in and open all the doors and windows, see if their mood lightens up. I'd imagine this would rather piss them off. We don't always need to be happy. Its comforting to think that architecture an keep you safe from the happy-deluded people.

haus: Funkhaus open day

Spied Monica Levy at the Funkhaus open day. Just as the summer sun was setting- pretty light.

Eclectic bunch of artists chillin in the gigantic hallways, playing bongos and chess. Thoughts out on the floor:

when pigs fly,

Saturday, 20 July 2013

haus: Dickson's tart

Dickson's making blueberry pie. Out of the blue. heh. 

Dickson: "I’m heading out. The dough’s in the fridge, it has to relax."
Me: "To chill out?"
Dickson: "Yeah. Needs to sit so it becomes elastic. Easier to roll out. Science."

Friday, 19 July 2013

art: new vs old (drawing)

@ the Kupferstichkabinett 
(museum of prints and drawings, berlin)

To be a blunt pencil, I thought the exhibition of new drawings was crap. It's the kind of artwork which sounds quite beautiful when someone describes the ideas to you, but standing face to face in a white room, well- you feel a bit stupid. 

Line after- line after- line after- after line.. Void of human emotion makes a damn sobering effect. I'm thinking I should have worn beige or grey. But now I'm curious to meet the people behind these artists. Are they ocd (obsessive compulsive disorder)? Do they repeat their stories to their friends? What colours to they wear? How do they cut their sandwhiches (square, triangle, or not at all)?

Speaking about old art: a friend said "yeah but, once you've seen one, you've seen them all." 

Regardless, looking at these pamphlets I can't help returning to this girl's eyes. Perhaps its simple instinct reflexes, wanting to connect to other humans. But I do also emphasise with the inanimate, like when I drop my mobile on the ground or accidentally slam a door. 

Q&A with Dickson Schneider: exhibition opens tonight!

Dickson Schneider's exhibition opens tonight @ 7pm.
He's already awake.

Five Finger Questions:

How many hours sleep did you get last night?

Your morning breakfast?
     Shoko croissant and coffee (I'll eat a banana later)

What are you doing right now?
     I'm about to head out for a walk

How does that make you feel?
     ..(thinking silence)... relaxed

What are your thoughts on intrusive morning interviews?
     umm.. Surprised.

Tuesday, 16 July 2013

haus: Funkhaus Berlin Studios

Not unlike on the edge of a small town, next to the Shell petrol station stands a building with many bricks. Funkhaus Berlin Studios. It's huge. An old radio station back in the day. Curiously there's a lot of clocks here; all running on different times, so you're never really late.

Monica Levy talked to us about her latest work, translating her berlin backyard into sensitive, softly spoken watercolours. Sitting in recycled frames sourced in local markets, these watercolours share the frame's memories of travel photographs and souvenir paintings. Layering and blending the histories of ordinary people and their travelling views.

berlin: infomercials

Yes. Infomercials can have this effect on tv's.

Monday, 15 July 2013

art: the blues

"hmm.. perhaps I should have gone with the blue shoes.."

Sunday, 14 July 2013

Q&A with Dickson Schneider: free art project

“I think about being a human being a lot more than I think about being an artist.” – Dickson Schneider

Four Finger Questions

1. Free art – is this a fuck you to capitalism? Political vs charity?

Free Art is naturally political.  It is about how we value things in our society.  Valuing Art is confusing. Valuing Status is clear.  I want to make work with no status so that people have to reconsider how they value things.
Capitalism is problematic.  It leads to art being owned and controlled by wealthy people. artists become subservient to wealth and art becomes cynical.
My project is the opposite of charity.  It is offered without any conditions - it is the most respectful thing I can do. People are doing me a charity when they take one of my pieces.

2. Breakdown the show.

There are five very different Free Art shows next week - all driven by different inclinations and choices. I let the work tell me what it means.
Monday: Berlin Re-Mix.
Tuesday: All The Living And The Dead.
Wednesday: Placeholders.
Thursday: Dumb Show.
Friday: Everything Must Go.

3. Exhibition content vs audience interaction with the art?

Both are equal. Art is a social activity driven by a cultural and aesthetic traditions, but I can not give away something unless I personally value it and that the work itself reflects my own understanding and experience from 35 years of art making.

4. They say nothing in this world is free. Is this art really free?

This assumes that things can only be measured by money. Well, that’s clearly sideways, we only use money for certain parts of our lives. Working happily is very free. Nobody started off being artists to make money we wanted to be poets.

Opening: This Friday @ 7pm, Tapir (Weserstrasse 11, 10247 Friedrichshain Berlin)

art: school's out

Bunch of uni grad shows of inspiring and emerging artists, not yet tainted by the ordinary grind of the monday-to-friday-day-job.

Head of Office Public and Relation, Frau Fleischmann - Danke for guiding us around!

Alternate Exit Route. Not suitable for persons with a heart condition.