Postmodernity is said to be a culture of fragmentary sensations, eclectic nostalgia, disposable simulacra, and promiscuous superficiality, in which the traditionally valued qualities of depth, coherence, meaning, originality, and authenticity are evacuated or dissolved amid the random swirl of empty signals.
Ich bin gerne hier und ich finde wichtig für unsere Arbeit, dass ich weiß, dass ich in einer Stadt bin, die irgendwie eine Werktagsstadt ist, keine Sonntagsstadt. [...] Ich weiß schon immer wenn ich in die Lichtburg gehe, da an dieser Bushaltestelle vorbei und sehe diese Leute da, die oft sehr müde und sehr traurig aussehen und ich denke so etwas ist wahnsinnig wichtig, dass man weiß in welcher Welt man lebt und nicht einfach nur denkt, alles ist wunderbar. Das finde ich ganz wichtig für mich und für eine Arbeit die man macht, wo alle diese Menschen, diese Gefühle vorkommen, wo ich die alle einbeziehe in meine Gefühle, die da sind.
— Pina Bausch
Transkription; sqq. *
Gerhard Richter | I. G. | 1993
Nothing is more real than nothing.
sqq. *
Competitions are for horses, not artists.
These are the days that must happen to you.
The finest steel has to go through the hottest fire.
— Íkaros
sqq. *
Erwin Heerich | Fontana Pavillon | 2000
There is immeasurably more left inside than what comes out in words.
My summer '77 with Gordon Matta-Clark ...
Art attracts us only by what it reveals of our most secret self.
Stop insisting on clearing your head — clear your fucking heart instead.
These are my last words, and I am certain that my sacrifice will not be in vain, I am certain that, at the very least, it will be a moral lesson that will punish felony, cowardice, and treason.
sqq. *
It is essential to leave some space empty; you could — and should — never fill in all the blanks.
sqq. *
All is linked. All is consequence.
We have not been given the lead in the cosmic drama.
— Carl Sagan
Truth is in all things, even, partly, in error.
Manuel González Rul | Casa Otero | 1952
Reinhard Krause | Am Ruhrschnellweg | 1988
This incompleteness is all we have.
[...] Responding to the industrial architecture of the Kokerei and an overwhelming urge to lament the monumental history of the area, I want to create a pantomime of sound, theatrical effects and visual image. I reject the concept of opera as the classical means by which to explore "tragedy", at least for now. I love the idea to provoke myself with the idea that the pantomime allows tears of laughter as well tears of regret; as I said to someone recently ... "we all cry. But whose tears are most bitter, or more salt, and whose are sweeter?" Quoting James Joyce's character in "A portrait of the artist as a young man" — "using for my defence the only arms I allow myself to use — silence, exile, and cunning." I'm trying to kidnap the character of Stephen Dedalus for myself but throwing open the question as to "who is in charge" — the viewer, the reader, the artist or the performer. Materials; Naked voice, cello, naked body, ropes, birds, smoke, mirrors, blinding light, dark darkness. In the pantomime style, nothing is what it seems to the performer but to the audience — it's clear ... It's behind you! Oh, no, it's not! Oh yes it is!
Trust me,
— Douglas Gordon
sqq. Silence, Exile, Deceit
If you have reasons to love someone, you don't love them.
— Slavoj Žižek
Ryoji Ikeda, test pattern [100 m version], Ruhrtriennale, 2013
Max Dudler | Folkwang Library | 2012
sqq. *
And the rest is rust and stardust.
Diethard Wendtland, selbständiger Münzkaufmann.
