,,,,
[
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//※//
Circular short story posted in comment sections on websites, QR codes
2019
The work //※// conjoins young girls with old men, refers to the circularity of its own tale, nods towards the breaking in of a lucky coincidence (or a lack thereof), and works within the logic of reference – which is a movement toward something but never, in itself, is a matter of content.
While, in the sound piece, the closed story goes around and around continuously, on the linked websites, the hermetic assumption of the story is annotated by the surrounding content and framed by the surrounding designs, inverting the relationship of comment and main body.
Produced for LOW TEXT #6: Footnotes (27.11.2019 at Flutgraben Berlin).
===|
<a href="https://rollthedice.online/en/cdice/nine-sided-dice" target="_blank"><img src="images/web1.png" alt="qr-code"></a>
<a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/review/twains-aquarium-club" target="_blank"><img src="images/web2.png" alt="qr-code"></a>
<a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/542406.Must_We_Burn_Sade_" target="_blank"><img src="images/web3.png" alt="qr-code"></a>
<a href="http://www.constantinaevripidou.com/girls-just-wanna-have-fun/" target="_blank"><img src="images/web4.png" alt="qr-code"></a>
<a href="https://lithub.com/what-to-know-about-self-managed-abortion-care/" target="_blank"><img src="images/web5.png" alt="qr-code"></a>
<a href="https://www.discogs.com/de/Vladimir-Nabokov-Lolita-And-Poems-Read-By-Vladimir-Nabokov/master/1425096#" target="_blank"><img src="images/web6.png" alt="qr-code"></a>
<a href="https://soundcloud.com/ignatzhoch/merry-clayton" target="_blank"><img src="images/web7.png" alt="qr-code"></a>
<a href="https://anreapatchwork.blogspot.com/2016/12/shelley-jackson-patchwork-girl.html" target="_blank"><img src="images/web8.png" alt="qr-code"></a>
<a href="https://youtu.be/RbgoHby1jmo?t=582" target="_blank"><img src="images/web9.png" alt="qr-code"></a>
]
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[[[Index->Index]]]<index|
[
|===
$space[//Remote Support at Whose Museum//]
Exchange process with the help of forms, emails, attachments, mail shipments, instructions and more
Part of Whose Museum
2019 ongoing
Whose Museum was founded by Laura Hatfield in Vancouver in 2008. The premise of this artist museum is that every donation has to be accepted. Since then, the museum has traveled far and grown considerably. I joined in 2012. It is a place where everything bureaucratic becomes ornamental, and all discard gains in value, but where nothing is straight forward except the donation. Often we use pseudo-bureaucratic structures to interact with the public and among ourselves. Since 2019, the Malmö branch resides in a gallery space where Whose Museum works with invited artists and the collection.
===|
A work that exists for the sake of visitor outreach and my personal joy, the //Remote Support// can be contacted with a simple form in order to get support on a question or problem. One of the following categories has to be ticked: praise, criticism, collection provenance, explanation, confusion, conceptual, advice, trivia, or ritual. The reply comes within a week in the shape of an email or a postal shipment. The resulting material trail (which isn‘t necessarily a straight-forward question-answer pair) is added to the data base of the museum.
Forms are available at Whose Museum, Kristianstadsgatan 16, Malmö or <a href="images/remote.pdf" target="_blank">here</a>.
]
---
<img src="images/remote-1.jpg">
---
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[[[Index->Index]]]<index|
[
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$space[//Carry on windows//]
Cut foil, added buttermilk pigment wash, photograph, acetone prints on tissues from local shops
In situ, Allerheiligenstrasse, Frankfurt am Main
2019
Contribution to the exhibition //Women on Aeroplanes: Stopover// at TOR in Frankfurt/Main (06.06. - 30.06.2019). More information on the Women on Aeroplanes project at <a href="http://woa.kein.org" target="_blank">woa.kein.org</a>.
===|
]
---
<img src="images/woa12.png" alt=""><br>
Morning at the exhibition. Light creeps in through the cut-outs to anchor the space to the sun in the galactic arrangement of bodies. Like a plant, the floor reacts to the light in green pigmentation. Like a photograph, an image is exposed and developed. Moving bodies behind the windows gain a filmic quality; their moving directs the eye to sweep up and down their shells as they rush along. An occasional gaze hits the space in turn. On the pillar in the front, a photograph from Rahima Gambo's series <i>A Walk</i>.
<img src="images/woa.png" alt=""><br>
View of exhibition space from outside, corner of Allerheiligentor/Lange Strasse.
<img src="images/woa7.png" alt=""><br>
In the nook far back behind us, there are Fatoumata Diabaté's works. Table, chairs, and benches are set up for those who want to linger here. Through the cut-outs in the milk foil on the windows, lines of light fall into the space. The two green lines of pigment trace two major diagonal axes between works in the exhibition. The zigzag pattern of light is interrupted by shadows of corners. They, unlike the two green traces, don't meet, reminiscent of a route full of stopovers.
<img src="images/woa13.png" alt=""><br>
The two triangular strips of rough pigment paint, ockre in the bottom right, and blue in the top left, frame and tilt the window panes. Colours and positioning associate with <a href="https://www.theshowroom.org/exhibitions/women-on-aeroplanes" target="_blank">Pamela Phatsimo Sunstrum's mural piece at The Showroom</a> in London made for the previous stop of Women on Aeroplanes, which reflects Bessie Head's poetic Botswana landscape of exile.
<img src="images/woa5.png" alt=""><br>
View of bench (Marie-Hélène Gutberlet, Janusch Ertler, and Patrick Keaveney), and part of the <i>Carry on windows</i> installation. The photograph from 2014 shows Hotel Luxor at night. Looking at the picture, and then bending slightly to look through the cut-out in the window, the actual place can be seen across the street. There is a reflection of the hotel sign in the window, and an ocean of plants brightly lit. During the exhibition, the hotel was closed due to renovations.
<img src="images/woa15.png" alt="">
<img src="images/woa2.png" alt="">
Prints from left to right:
Tissue from EmirET Grill on Allerheiligenstrasse, rub-off of "Pamela Phatsimo Sunstrum, Exalt B.H. 2018. Painted mural on the exterior of The Showroom. Photo: Daniel Brooke" with image, from The Showroom website.
Tissue available at TOR, rub-offs of Temitayo Ogunbiyi "You will find peace and play among palm trees, 2018, pencil on paper, 18 x 24 inches" in Inflight Magazine #2, p.19, the page number 18, and a schematic drawing of the inner ear.
Tissue from EmirET, rub-off from Inflight Magazine #1, p.14: "Samia Lakhdari, Zohra Drif, Djamila Bouhired and Hassiba Ben Bouali, the bomb planters in the Battle of Algiers" with image.
Tissue available at TOR, rub-offs from collage by Marie-Hélène Gutberlet in Inflight Magazine #1, p. 10.
Tissue brought from Berlin, rub-offs of a still image from Rahima Gambo's collaborative video work Tatsuniya (2017-ongoing), Inflight Magazine #1, p.30-31.
Tissue from a Samosa stall on Münchenerstrasse, rub-off from Inflight Magazine #1, p.25 (including page number), parts of a text by Kodwo Eshun, "Specific Grammars of Intricate Displacement".
Tissue available at TOR, rub-offs of another schematic drawing of the inner ear, and the word "FEMMES" as photographed by Marie-Hélène Gutberlet in a series of images of library shelf categorizations.
Tissue from Berlin, rub-off from Inflight Magazine #3, p.23 (including page number), a conversation between Pamela Phatsimo Sunstrum and Thenjiwe Niki Nkosi: "What has been so important about sharing a studio space is that anybody who comes in necessarily has to meet with, or deal with, or see both of us. I think that’s radical. Straight sharing sometimes implies that some- thing becomes less because you’ve divided it. Whereas radical sharing means that the thing becomes more because you are equally nourished by it. Rather than being about a portioning out of what’s available, it’s more of a pooling and then augmenting of what’s available. (261—62)".
Tissue from EmirET, rub-offs from a Guardian article by Gordon Bowker, 2007: "As this information was on Orwell's 1927 passport it can be presumed he acquired the tattoos in Burma. He was never a properly "correct" member of the Imperial class - hobnobbing with Buddhist priests, Rangoon prostitutes and British drop-outs. As Orwell himself noted, rebellious Burmese tribesmen thought tattoos gave magic protection from British bullets, and, as he himself grew more rebellious, perhaps he felt in need of his own protection against official hostility. The tattoos were probably a sign to members of the British establishment in Burma that he was not "one of them" - an attitude he sustained throughout his writing career. That attitude, highly fruitful for his writing, was also what made him a suspect to the intelligence authorities.", from Inflight Magazine #4, p.4-5, poem by Theresa Kampmeier "pretending to keep them in the air", "#4 Stopover", and p.25, headline of a BBC radio script by Venu Chitale, "How to make do without meat".
<img src="images/woa0.png" alt="quote from Kojo Laing 1988">
View of entrance to the exhibition space where Kojo Laing is quoted from his 1988 novel <i>Woman of the Aeroplanes</i>:
"We shall unregulate you immediately if you don't jump out of here with your cruel traxcavator"
---
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[[[Index->Index]]]<index|[
|===
$space[//Piraterie in Somalia//]
20 minutes, sounds, found audio tracks, in German
Podcast
2018
Between 2005 and 2011 attacks on trading vessels in the Gulf of Aden intensified. They usually resulted in ransom demands. The Gulf is an important international trade route (80% of the trade concern the EU) between Somalia and the Yemen. The attacks came from the Somalian coast. In reaction to these attacks, military operations and patrols against piracy were executed by the UN, the African Union, the EU, and other amalgamations of nation-state forces. For the EU this was an opportunity to realize an independent military operation without the NATO for the first time ("Operation Atalante"). From 2013, the attacks decreased quickly and have barely recurred since then. Piracy networks remain however.
At the latest since 2008, "pirates in Somalia" are a striking topic in the European media by which the image of the Somali pirate was established as a substitute for an entire discourse about the region of Somalia. The podcast episode deals with this media discourse and the construction of a popular European imaginary.
===|
<iframe width="100%" height="300" scrolling="no" frameborder="no" allow="autoplay" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/544534203&color=%23a8a294&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false&show_teaser=true&visual=true"></iframe>
]
---
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[[[Index->Index]]]<index|
$space[//树画树 / tree paints tree//]
French plane tree in Shanghai, window, dust
Photograph
2017
A small work coming out of a residency in Shanghai, my Chinese studies, and my ongoing semiotic interest.
---
<img src="images/2017-tree.jpg">
---
==>
[[[Index->Index]]]<index|
[
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$space[//Stand Up//]
Phone number tagged on wall, digital answering machine
4 minutes, in English
Sound piece
2016
//Stand Up// is a phone number tagged on an exhibition wall. Calling, one finds a prose poem recorded on an answering machine that tells of a woman receiving a lift out of the city by an old friend.
The essay [[//On Standing Up//->On Standing Up]] was written alongside the phone piece. It reflects on the meanings of standing up, and elaborates on ideas from the sound piece.
On the right: Engraving on chalk board with part of the script, catalogue image.
Below: //Stand Up// at MMK Zollamt, Frankfurt am Main, 2016.
===|
<img src="images/standup.jpg" alt="nurses">
]
---
<img src="images/standup2.jpg" alt="phone number">
---
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[[[Index->Index]]]<index|
[
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$space[//burning good phones (into designations)//]
Audio play
11 minutes, in English
2016
The greek term phone / φωνή designates the smallest segment of sound in a stream of speech.
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<iframe width="100%" height="300" scrolling="no" frameborder="no" allow="autoplay" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/258276229&color=%23a8a294&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false&show_teaser=true&visual=true"></iframe>
]
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[[[Index->Index]]]<index|
[
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$space[//Poems of the Cold//]
Carton with coloured postcards and a paperback in offset print, text in English and a Simplified Chinese translation
15x10cm, 68 pages, 29 postcards, edition of 280
Book object
2015
//Poems of the Cold// was a way to receive the signals of an unknown place. Disguised as a souvenir, the box was distributed to street vendors in Xiamen‘s tourist district. The images on the postcards are reproductions of analogue photographs from the city as well as digital collages on topics from the story in the book in which the protagonists move about in Xiamen, speaking of popular events in China‘s more recent history, tourism, the theory of relativity, synthetic blue pigments, and Traditional Chinese Medicine. They start creating interventions and performances as they go, which lets the book itself re-imagine the urban landscape. Central motives are reflections, and stories about water, noise, delay, and friendship.
===|
<img src="images/box-cover.jpg" alt="poems">
Above: The object.
Below: One of the postcards.
Find a full PDF [[here->Bodies]].
]
---
<img src="images/postcards3.jpg" alt="postcard">
---
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[[[Index->Index]]]<index|
[
|===
$space[//Grund Schacht//]
40 pages, 29x21cm, prints of handwritten text and graphics on transparent paper, in German
Artist book
2014
Find a PDF of the text in the artist book [[here->Bodies]].
===|
<img src="images/heft.jpg">
]
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<img src="images/Schacht_web.jpg">
---
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[[[Index->Index]]]<index|
[
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$space[//Weiße Nacht//]
Corrugated fiber glass sheets, steel, roofing felt and sound loop
Installation
2013
Lichthaus Arnsberg is a monumental glass building. Usually its façade is closed on all sides. For the installation, front and back were opened and the tapered tunnel ran all the way through. The sound loop was made from a recording of a humming voice and traffic sounds.
For more documentation visit the <a href="http://www.lichthaus-arnsberg.de/theresa-kampmeier" target=_blank>project page</a>.
On the right: Installation shot.
Below: Poster image.
===|
<img src="images/weissenacht_web.jpg">
]
---
<img src="images/winkel_web.jpg" alt="Poster of the exhibition">
---
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[[[Index->Index]]]<index|
[
|===
$space[//Gothenburg Cultural Guided Tours//]
A performance by <a href="https://marfjell.wordpress.com" target="_blank"> Mar Fjell</a> and Theresa Kampmeier
At the Nordstan shopping mall in the inner city of Gothenburg, Sweden
After appointment, duration ca 30 minutes, in English
2012
A collaborative exercise in exploring and renegotiating the perception of public spaces, for this roaming performance we certainly didn't tell the anyone that we didn't have a permission to enter.
A Report From The Nordstan Shopping Mall:
Wearing our uniforms with formal name tags, showing one capital letter indicating the guide's first name cut off by a dot: M.Fjell and T.Kampmeier. We await the group by one of the side entrances of Nordstan, very close to its middle axis. Welcoming them, we make it very clear that the working environment of the place shall not be disturbed by our tour, and thus they are asked to pose questions later. We would like our visitors to behave as casually as possible. The group ponderously crosses the shopping centre. We stay silent until, disgorged on the other side, we are entering the customs office entrance into a hallway. Reaching the lower floor in small groups due to the size of the elevators, we wait downstairs for our visitors to arrive in the same kind of hallway as upstairs. In between two fire protection doors, we point out once more that it will be very important to be quiet now. Then the basement starts, a corridor, long, long, with identical doors to all sides, and in neon light there are young people emptying boxes into storages, they greet us amicably. Again, we traverse the centre, this time only across its long side.
Briefly, M.Fjell informs the group on a documentary series broadcasted on Swedish TV in 2012 which showed people spending time at Nordstan without participating in the shopping. Then, we ask our group to line up in front of the door at the end of the corridor and peek through the keyhole behind which busy people are working, and where we of course would not like to disturb if we entered. When everybody has taken their turn in catching a glimpse, we enter a door on the side into a staircase all covered in marble stones, up, up, until we arrive in a glass-paned foyer. Pointing at the front desk lady behind the glass, T. Kampmeier explains that, just now, we passed all the backdoors of the stores.
We abandon the building for the outside. On the roof of the shopping centre, we find ourselves in an exact replica of the old road network below. One walks in between high office buildings through a park; we pass a metal gate onto the main axis, and from there we stroll towards the parking garage on the short backside of the shopping centre. Very slowly, the group takes its time to look around. Arriving in the vestibule of the parking garage, we indicate a small elevator by the side, open its doors in order to show it to the group, and point out how it is very special for two reasons. Firstly, this elevator only goes up (as it says on a brass plaque next to it). Secondly, the elevator stems from Nordstan's early years and thus is still covered in chocolate wrapping paper thought of as ornamental decoration, the aluminum nowadays not used on foods anymore, and its shining nicely. The group jumps at the chance to go in while we are holding the door, and slide their fingertips over the inner lining. M.Fjell goes down the hallway and exits onto a slim passway along the parking deck's side to expect the participants once they are finished. From where they are waiting, one can look down into the backstreet where we met in the beginning, and the building on the opposite side of the street consists of open-plan offices into which we get perfect insight. M.Fjell tells the storyline of a film premiering a year ago in this place. It was called 'Challenge Your Leader', as one can also read on a poster hanging across the street in big, cloud-shaped letters. Then they announce that next we will walk on the smallest pavement in Gothenburg, meaning that the participants are asked to walk carefully one after another. After crossing the parking lot, we take them up a coil for the cars on the inside slope. Through the fencing of the pavement participants can look all the way down into the bottom floor. Arriving on the top floor of the garage, standing in the middle of a deserted parking lot, we rest for a minute before M.Fjell and T.Kampmeier exclaim Now, we are on top of the world and gaze up towards the sky while inhaling deeply. The group is left there after they got a chance to pose their questions, and the guided tour is over.
<img src="images/nordstan4.jpg" alt="View of the guides in the basement">
<img src="images/nordstan8.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan7.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
===|
<img src="images/nordstan1_web.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan14.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan2_web.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan13.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan12.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan11.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan10.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan9.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan3.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan6.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan5.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
]
---
==>
[[[Index->Index]]]<index|//pretending to keep them in the air//
accident assassinate accurate acrid accord accede pee
access assess assets assembly
caress empress carcass
delay debris decay daily displace
factor factory fabricate agent
imitation indentation invitation implication limination
pistol pilots polite politics polish posit post pivot body
plainly planely painly apparently soundly
metafiction mate-fiction malfunction misunderstanding
transmission mission intermission missive inference transit
unresolved unburied undead alive
In //Women on Aeroplanes Inflight Magazine #4//, 2019
---
<a href="https://www.theresakampmeier.de/halfhourseventhseal.html" target="_blank">*Half an Hour Under the Seventh Seal,*</a> 2021 (EN)
<a href="images/Kampmeier Hintergrund und Quellen Somalia.pdf" target="_blank"><i>Piraterie in Somalia,</i></a> 2018 (DE)
<a href="images/Kampmeier On learning from the people.pdf" target="_blank"><i>On "learning from the people",</i></a> 2018 (EN)
<a href="images/Theresa Kampmeier - BURROW BAY MOON.pdf" target="_blank"><i>Burrow Bay Moon,</i></a> 2018 (EN)
<a href="images/Kampmeier & Cheng - Stickler's Digest.pdf" target="_blank"><i>Stickler's Digest,</i></a> collaboration with Cheng Kitsum, 2016 (EN)
<a href="images/Theresa Kampmeier - On Standing Up.pdf" target="_blank"><i>On Standing Up,</i></a> 2016 (EN)
<a href="images/Poems of the Cold - Theresa Kampmeier.pdf" target="_blank"><i>Poems of the Cold,</i></a> 2015 (EN)
<a href="images/Theresa Kampmeier - Grund Schacht.pdf" target="_blank"><i>Grund Schacht,</i></a> 2014 (DE)
---
==>
[[[Index->Index]]]<index|
My work takes shape in many ways. There have been sound pieces, hypertext fiction, in situ interventions, performances, sculptures, videos, photographs, books, and exhibitions. What they have in common is that they come from writing. Long-term commitments and collaborations are important to me, and I hope to get involved responsibly wherever I am invited.
---
[
|===
<a href="https://www.brotbaumregime.info" target="_blank">brotbaumregime.info</a>
<a href="https://www.ruralreconstruction.com" target="_blank">ruralreconstruction.com</a>
<a href="http://stechlin-institut.org/" target="_blank">stechlin-institut.org</a>
(text-style: "rumble")[<a href="https://www.whosemuseum.org" target="_blank">whosemuseum.org</a>]
<a href="http://www.aeproject.info" target="blank">aeproject.info</a>
<a href="https://kingbarneyparsons.com" target="_blank">kingbarneyparsons.com</a>
<a href="http://www.kitsumcheng.com/" target="_blank">kitsumcheng.com</a>
<a href="https://www.patreon.com/tomorjudy" target="_blank">patreon.com/tomorjudy</a>
<a href="http://yalajuchmann.de/de" target="_blank">yalajuchmann.de</a>
<a href="https://marfjell.wordpress.com" target="_blank">marfjell.wordpress.com</a>
===|
<a href="https://www.bbk-berlin.de/" target="_blank">bbk-berlin.de</a>
<a href="http://amspacesh.com/" target="_blank">amspacesh.com</a>
<a href="https://www.kein-abseits.de" target="_blank">kein-abseits.de</a>
<a href="http://woa.kein.org/" target="_blank">woa.kein.org</a>
<a href="https://paletten.net/" target="_blank">paletten.net</a>
<a href="http://www.intolerance-berlin.de/" target="_blank">intolerance-berlin.de</a>
<a href="https://www.studienstiftung.de/studienfoerderung/selbstbewerbung/" target="_blank">studienstiftung.de/selbstbewerbung</a>
<a href="https://www.iaaw.hu-berlin.de/" target="_blank">iaaw.hu-berlin.de</a>
<a href="http://staedelschule.de/" target="_blank">staedelschule.de</a>
]
---
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[
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<a href="https://www.brotbaumregime.info/" target="_blank">//Das Brotbaumregime//</a> – Ausstellung
<a href="https://www.ruralreconstruction.com" target="_blank">//Rural Reconstruction//</a> – research
===|
(link-reveal: "Write me")[ at mail@theresakampmeier.de].
Go to the [[[index->Index]]]<index| of the page.
]
[
|===
$space[//Acting on resigned fates//]
Roughly 30 minutes performed by the artist
Performance
2019
The performance is exclusively shown in private spaces. It crosses over between tax law, the erotic, and art history.
Book [<a href="mailto: mail@theresakampmeier.de">here,</a>] please mention date and location.
Image: From the Apocalypse Tapestry in Angers, France, 14th century
===|
<img src="images/anger.png">
]
---
==>
[[[Index->Index]]]<index|
[
|===
$space[//Burrow Bay Moon//]
Prose poem
Offset printed pocket book, text in English and Chinese translation
146x96 mm, 60 pages, 300 copies
2018
Central motives of the text are friendship, the organisation of knowledge, the earthen underbelly of a city, the social side of art, borderlands, contextualisation, summoning, mourning, and longing.
===|
First published by am Art Space and Goethe-Institut, Shanghai, 2018
A shortened version was published in a reader by Broken Dimanche Press, Berlin, 2020
Find a full PDF [[here->Bodies]].
]
---
//What is expendable. It’s been pouring rain. Walking through generous wall-framed streets under a mint-coloured umbrella at dusk, peaceful, beautiful, wet, and blue. In the archive you gave me, I enter little worlds. Collected notes of nearly twenty years of observing and writing. Taking all leave from work, I want to dwell there.
What the plane trees and moving spotlights from passing cars, hustling legs, and wet hemlines make me think of: I will take us for a walk. We never knew when to stop walking, walk was the basic pattern of our lives at a time when we were also travelling across each other’s body in a frenzy; walking that was thinking, thinking that was speaking, and writing that was walking. Walking your story in the rain today. Am I at your will?//
---
==>
[[[Index->Index]]]<index|Together with three rural towns and museums in the Sauerland region, I'm developing the exhibition project <a href="https://www.brotbaumregime.info/" target="_blank">//Das Brotbaumregime//</a> in 2023.
---
//Vom Rücken//
Installation in public space
<a href="https://www.schmallenberger-sauerland.de/erleben/veranstaltungen/detailansicht/?tx_npt3events_event_id=145036&cHash=67d527456e69569b096d0d59de3e50b0" target="_blank">Stadtbesetzung Schmallenberg</a>
August 6 – September 18, 2022
---
==>
[[[Start->Start]]]<start|
[
|===
$space[//On Standing Up//]
2016
//Stand Up// is a phone number tagged on an exhibition wall. Looks like it was done quickly by someone unskilled. Calling, one finds a poem recorded on its answering machine. In this poem, a woman receives a lift out of the city by an old friend. She called him after having fallen down somewhere. They talk until he drops her off in the middle of fields and forests. It turns out that the tagged number belongs to the driver.
Stand up, don't stand down, off, by, out, on, aside, back, over, still. Standing up, this moment of exposure to the unknown, before any action has really happened but openness is imminent while the body moves up to balance on its legs. In this movement, may it be physical or mental, lies the movens of sovereignty. When you stand up, you really stand alone. The sense of agency becomes clearer when standing up is used as an imperative: Stand up!, my mother told me when I was small, because back then I was living closer to the ground than now. Standing up implied another height to reach. But I also had to lift myself because part of learning to use my body vertically was to fall down often. Standing up after falling.
My thoughts on this piece are gathered in a knot of knots. It's a knot I wished could be made actual in space in order to see better where connections between knots are, and how they weave and weave. For a time, I imagined one of the two characters in the piece carrying a large physical bundle of string which was this knot, my knot of thoughts, the manifestation of the story's problem smuggled to the inside. But it turned out she couldn‘t carry it for me. Whenever I listened to my recordings of those scripts, all I could hear was them talking about adding or untying a Not. At that moment, the story was standing in its own way, and it decided to hand the piece of knot right back to me.
Stand Up – but what is it if not a comedy show, the monologue delivered to the audience. This call to stand up has nothing to do with a political slogan, it brings laughter through the back door. What it does is play. It, and in it its characters, and on top of it the voice; it plays identification, spins all its cranks, then snaps back. It makes you forget it in the instant it passes, just to then pound on the same spot again. As poetry, as the knot of knots, the text in the piece is written to have no center or periphery, to be a folded map on which what happens, happens, but it makes us all, the characters and the caller, the audience to whom the monologue is delivered at the end of an answering machine, which even turns on itself, too; it makes us all delivered to a freak sense of destiny. It is vandalism. Terribly superficial story telling. She plays with him, or she seems to play with him, because her intentions are so pure, she truly follows them, there is no hidden agenda at all. Feels like I'm not ever gentle enough. Experiencing such intensity, he simply expects a hidden motivation. His sense of inferiority is standing in his way. Knowing, but not knowing, that which standing up opens you up to, which is experience, and risking, daring to experience experience; because what do I do the whole time – I await, I anticipate fearfully, a change, a movement, imminent disaster that never comes, against which I still have to move – it's lacking. But losing the lack, both he and I wonder, is what she did.
===|
Storytelling, just like anything else, depends on luck. It is no exception, it is a gamble. I try filling the gamble with love. The imperative of stand up! is transformed into its infinitive every time to stand up approaches yet again. I agonize over the call for a counter hegemony, the faint echo of political activism, when writing it, when uttering it. Always giving more. This is the writing of the lift; the infinitive which is Saying in its execution. The rupture a fall provides gets inscribed very literally as a wound on the body, turns into a scar, engraving, ornament. All of it represents the Drawing of a fall; as she says.
In times of war, ruptures become more apparent. War seems to be a slip in the universe, the world slips and it gets wounded. Even my little private fall in a country that is still very much whole on its own territory, I cannot perceive it outside of war any longer. Then the becoming nurse is as immanent as water in water. It is a way of staying out of formalized movements, antagonisms – of associating but remaining infinitive, other. The anguish needed to heal and not to repair, it grows alongside care, both most urgently at the limits of being and only attained in encounters, attempting the intimacy of speaking out and listening, of touch. Being confidantes, accomplices, as a mode of gathering, it makes it possible to associate and act agonistically. It doesn‘t overlook the impossibility of communion.
What stands up remains valid after analysis. The call to stand up is just a preparation to escape this analysis which affirms its object into its own sphere, which annexes, often in the shape of the academic or commercial. The delusion that something has been checked and is therefore safe belongs into the elegant sandbox of the play that doesn't become, turn into, but owns. There is no salvation.
The relationship between the microphone and my mouth, it is sealed by the waves, and the person on the other end and me, we are physically connected by all the transformed energy of waves and sparks and waves. Then to think of audible silence makes me so happy. Because it contains the potential of these connections while being nothing, being the only reality I can truly connect with, while my speaking comes from pain. I have something to say. To stand the words, to stand the words, truly.
The sound filters of the system in the answering machine take the sound of my recorded voice apart. The answering machine's settings are designed for high efficiency and excellence in phone conferences of professional businesses, yet they distort the voice so absolutely that the piece undoes itself and whatever of that physical connection to my voice remains, in its endlessly repeating document, is a remain without provenance, a souvenir maybe, a corpse. The contact between us is a story. While supposedly a marked tag turns the exhibition space dirty – is a sign of vandalism, the signature in vandalism, the territorial claim of the streets, and surely here only a meagre substitute representation of the graffiti artist scratching the city, which recalls dirt into the show – when finally the beep sounds and the caller can answer, it is the turn of a mirror – it transgresses, it ruptures, it pulls back into being the caller who tried to listen to this mutilated chain of signifiers for so long they forgot they were on the phone themselves.
]
---
==>
[[[Index->Index]]]<index|[
|===
[[//Das Brotbaumregime//->Brotbaumregime]], 2023
[[//Margaret Digby, The Wall (1925)//->Wall]], 2022
[[//Token No. 1//->Wall]], 2021
[[//Half an Hour Under the Seventh Seal//->Seal]], 2021
[[//Durch die Bordüre//->Bordure]], 2021
[[//Konvoi spezial//->Konvoi]], 2020
[[//Finders keepers//->finders]], 2020
[[//Carry on windows//->Carry on windows]] with Women on Aeroplanes, 2019
[[//Burrow Bay Moon//->Burrow Bay Moon]], 2018
[[//Stickler's Digest//->Sticklers2]] with <a href="http://www.kitsumcheng.com/" target="_blank">Cheng Kitsum</a>, 2016
[[//Stand Up//->Stand Up]], 2016
[[//burning good phones (into designations)//->burning good phones]], 2016
[[//Poems of the Cold//->Poems of the Cold]], 2015
[[//Grund Schacht//->Grund Schacht]], 2014
[[//Weiße Nacht//->Weiße Nacht]], 2013
[[//Gothenburg Cultural Guided Tours//->Guide]] with <a href="https://marfjell.wordpress.com" target="_blank"> Mar Fjell</a>, 2012
===|
[[Collection of texts->Bodies]]
[[CV->CV]]
(link-reveal: "Contact")[ me at mail@theresakampmeier.de.]
]
---
Work in progress. Desktop version made in <a href="https://twinery.org" target="_blank">Twine</a> Harlowe. Last updated December 2023.
---
[
|===
$space[//Gothenburg Cultural Guided Tours//]
A performance by <a href="https://marfjell.wordpress.com" target="_blank"> Mar Fjell</a> and Theresa Kampmeier
At the Nordstan shopping mall in the inner city of Gothenburg, Sweden
After appointment, duration ca 30 minutes, in English
2012
A Report From The Nordstan Shopping Mall:
Wearing our uniforms with formal name tags, showing one capital letter indicating the guide's first name cut off by a dot: M.Fjell and T.Kampmeier. We await the group by one of the side entrances of Nordstan, very close to its middle axis. Welcoming them, we make it very clear that the working environment of the place shall not be disturbed by our tour, and thus they are asked to pose questions later. We would like our visitors to behave as casually as possible. The group ponderously crosses the shopping centre. We stay silent until, disgorged on the other side, we are entering the customs office entrance into a hallway. Reaching the lower floor in small groups due to the size of the elevators, we wait downstairs for our visitors to arrive in the same kind of hallway as upstairs. In between two fire protection doors, we point out once more that it will be very important to be quiet now. Then the basement starts, a corridor, long, long, with identical doors to all sides, and in neon light there are young people emptying boxes into storages, they greet us amicably. Again, we traverse the centre, this time only across its long side.
Briefly, M.Fjell informs the group on a documentary series broadcasted on Swedish TV in 2012 which showed people spending time at Nordstan without participating in the shopping. Then, we ask our group to line up in front of the door at the end of the corridor and peek through the keyhole behind which busy people are working, and where we of course would not like to disturb if we entered. When everybody has taken their turn in catching a glimpse, we enter a door on the side into a staircase all covered in marble stones, up, up, until we arrive in a glass-paned foyer. Pointing at the front desk lady behind the glass, T. Kampmeier explains that, just now, we passed all the backdoors of the stores.
We abandon the building for the outside. On the roof of the shopping centre, we find ourselves in an exact replica of the old road network below. One walks in between high office buildings through a park; we pass a metal gate onto the main axis, and from there we stroll towards the parking garage on the short backside of the shopping centre. Very slowly, the group takes its time to look around. Arriving in the vestibule of the parking garage, we indicate a small elevator by the side, open its doors in order to show it to the group, and point out how it is very special for two reasons. Firstly, this elevator only goes up (as it says on a brass plaque next to it). Secondly, the elevator stems from Nordstan's early years and thus is still covered in chocolate wrapping paper thought of as ornamental decoration, the aluminum nowadays not used on foods anymore, and its shining nicely. The group jumps at the chance to go in while we are holding the door, and slide their fingertips over the inner lining. M.Fjell goes down the hallway and exits onto a slim passway along the parking deck's side to expect the participants once they are finished. From where they are waiting, one can look down into the backstreet where we met in the beginning, and the building on the opposite side of the street consists of open-plan offices into which we get perfect insight. M.Fjell tells the storyline of a film premiering a year ago in this place. It was called 'Challenge Your Leader', as one can also read on a poster hanging across the street in big, cloud-shaped letters. Then they announce that next we will walk on the smallest pavement in Gothenburg, meaning that the participants are asked to walk carefully one after another. After crossing the parking lot, we take them up a coil for the cars on the inside slope. Through the fencing of the pavement participants can look all the way down into the bottom floor. Arriving on the top floor of the garage, standing in the middle of a deserted parking lot, we rest for a minute before M.Fjell and T.Kampmeier exclaim Now, we are on top of the world and gaze up towards the sky while inhaling deeply. The group is left there after they got a chance to pose their questions, and the guided tour is over.
<img src="images/nordstan4.jpg" alt="View of the guides in the basement">
<img src="images/nordstan8.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan7.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
===|
<img src="images/nordstan1_web.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan14.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan2_web.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan13.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan12.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan11.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan10.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan9.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan3.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan6.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan5.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
]
---
Returning to Germany the next year, I made my first spatial installation in public space, [[//Weiße Nacht//->Weiße2]].
---
[
==>
[[Index]]]
[
|===
$space[//Weiße Nacht//]
Installation at <a href="http://www.lichthaus-arnsberg.de/theresa-kampmeier">Lichthaus Arnsberg</a>
Corrugated fiber glass sheets, steel, roofing felt and <a href="https://soundcloud.com/tkampmeier/entwurf" target="_blank">audio loop</a>
2013
Lichthaus Arnsberg is a monumental glass building. Usually its facade is closed on all sides. For the installation, front and back were opened and the tapered tunnel ran all the way through. The audio loop consisted of the recording of a humming voice and traffic sounds.
===|
<img src="images/weissenacht_web.jpg">
]
---
<img src="images/winkel_web.jpg" alt="Poster of the exhibition">
---
[[//Grund Schacht//->Grund2]] the following year was a similar, but text-based investigation into located architectural elements and their social capacity.
---
[
==>
[[Index]]]
[
|===
$space[//Grund Schacht//]
40 pages, 29x21cm, prints of handwritten text and graphics on transparent paper, in German
2014
The text written on this work can be downloaded <a href="images/Theresa Kampmeier - Grund Schacht.pdf" target="_blank">here</a>.
===|
<img src="images/heft.jpg">
]
---
<img src="images/Schacht_web.jpg">
---
Looking for a way of making sense of being a tourist and knowing nothing of a place yet, my second artist book [[//Poems of the Cold//->Poems2]] created fictional art interventions in a Chinese hotspot for domestic travels, and smuggled them into the souvenir sections of street vendors on site.
---
[
==>
[[Index]]]
[
|===
$space[//Poems of the Cold//]
Carton with coloured postcards and a paperback in offset print, text in English and a Simplified Chinese translation
15x10cm, 68 pages, 29 postcards, edition of 280
Book object
2015
//Poems of the Cold// was a way to find meaning in being a tourist and knowing nothing of a place. As a typical postcard souvenir, the box was distributed to street vendors in Xiamen‘s tourist district. The images on the postcards are reproductions of analogue photographs I took in the city as well as digital collages on topics from the poetic story in the book. In the fictional story two protagonists move around outside in Xiamen, speaking of popular events in China‘s more recent history, about the theory of relativity, synthetic blue pigments, and Traditional Chinese Medicine. They start creating interventions and performances as they go, which lets the book itself re-imagine the urban landscape. Central tropes are reflections and stories about water, noise, delay, and friendship.
Here is a full PDF of <a href="images/Poems of the Cold - Theresa Kampmeier.pdf" target="_blank">//Poems of the Cold//</a>.
===|
<img src="images/box-cover.jpg" alt="poems">
Above: The object.
Below: One of the postcards.
]
---
<img src="images/postcards3.jpg" alt="postcard">
---
I started to get into working with [[sound->burning2]].
---
[
==>
[[Index]]]
[
|===
$space[//burning good phones (into designations)//]
Audio play
11 minutes, in English
2016
The greek term phone / φωνή designates the smallest segment of sound in a stream of speech.
===|
<iframe width="100%" height="300" scrolling="no" frameborder="no" allow="autoplay" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/258276229&color=%23a8a294&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false&show_teaser=true&visual=true"></iframe>
]
---
In 2016 I made a [[piece->Stand2]] you can call from your phone.
---
[
==>
[[Index]]]
[
|===
$space[//Stand Up//]
Phone number tagged on wall, digital answering machine
4 minutes, in English
Sound piece
2016
The text [[//On Standing Up//->On Standing Up2]] was written together with the phone piece.
Image: //Stand Up// at MMK Zollamt, Frankfurt am Main, 2016.
===|
<img src="images/B_X9A9840kweb.jpg" alt="phone number">
]
---
for English call 030 9210 9148
für Deutsch wählen Sie 030 2000 5191
---
As a result of a 2017 residency in Shanghai I wrote a prose poem which the Goethe-Institut and am Art Space published in 2018 as the pocket book [[//Burrow Bay Moon//->Burrow2]].
While preparing for the exhibition at MMK, Kitsum Cheng and I decided to make a collaboration visitors could use hands on, the [[//Stickler's Digest//->Stickler's Digest]].
---
[
==>
[[Index]]]
[
|===
$space[//Burrow Bay Moon//]
Offset printed pocket book, text in English and Chinese translation
146x96 mm, 60 pages, 300 copies
Published by am Art Space and Goethe-Institut, Shanghai
2018
Central motifs in this text are friendship, the organisation of knowledge, the earthen underbelly of a city, the social side of art, borderlands, contextualisation, summoning, mourning, and longing.
===|
A PDF of the [[book->Bodies2]].
Excerpt below.
]
---
//What is expendable. It’s been pouring rain. Walking through generous wall-framed streets under a mint-coloured umbrella at dusk, peaceful, beautiful, wet, and blue. In the archive you gave me, I enter little worlds. Collected notes of nearly twenty years of observing and writing. Taking all leave from work, I want to dwell there.
What the plane trees and moving spotlights from passing cars, hustling legs, and wet hemlines make me think of: I will take us for a walk. We never knew when to stop walking, walk was the basic pattern of our lives at a time when we were also travelling across each other’s body in a frenzy; walking that was thinking, thinking that was speaking, and writing that was walking. Walking your story in the rain today. Am I at your will?//
Writing from the city’s negative below. Infrastructure. Inside is where air is, outside mud and stuff. What carries over to the inside. While, on the surface, moving is informed by landscape, these tunnels do not have a landscape, there is no moving in between spaces, outlined spaces are all there is. In this negative, there is no standing on the edge and knowing that you are able to jump. Because that fear cannot exist in city tunnels, differently from mining shafts and therefore fundamentally different from all extractive sites, because of that, life down here is truly earthen. No windows. This is where you all will come to take shelter one day the way communities did in the mountains forever. Think of this planet congested by death and wealth, and consider the inelegance of going earthen, not a cure, not healing, but the condition for coping with collective congestion. I am writing from here to digest, though I know most people have hardly participated in the congesting ourselves. On city streets only lonely corpses stay unmoving, you said, and now I see that it’s because living minds on one-way tracks cannot care enough. These tunnels are where you wrote yourself.
Once you wrote a passionate letter to a man you didn’t know well at the time. After seeing a dead cat’s corpse collapsed on the pavement, that’s what you did. During previous days, in front of your house, its body had been shuffled here and there, some passersby having tried to get rid of it, or return what seemed like dignity to the dead, halfheartedly, so that it kept proving its existence. Two little paws sticking out of a folded billboard poster at the foot of a garbage can. A barren fox-red corpse on top of the same can was defying gravity rigorously. Cat back wrapped in poster unsuccessfully sticking out of dumpster. Corpse naturalised as extension of garbage can. You were swaying while you told me about your letter.
And secretly I sway between poles of how I can relate to you now. This project has an outrageous scale, this is your and my mass culture, out of touch with our social body, but a celestial body to our little physical lives. I am just mediating what you handed me, but the responsibility for the form the mediation takes makes me desperate. Knowledge is power, conjures the library you used to go to by embedding this statement in walls and carpets in cardinal languages, what kind of power. During this walk I want to engrave the tunnel walls to put a liquid spell on us in turn.
Seeing him that night in the half-empty lecture hall left you wretched. The skin under your clothes seemed to be burning up against cold fingertips. They had been steady carrying up bottles of water to the fourth floor but trembling throwing an empty one out. His sight left you exposed and his attendance drained you. He had been walking around all day, observant over long stretches of time, and at times carried away on transformative excesses of understanding. Then, moving away from mere understanding, following a hint the world didn’t know it had given. A sensitive inexplicable hunch. He walked into the room in the same way. Not exactly confident. Glaring neon-lights covered where he sat down, still taking in the spectacle of an architecture in a shape you couldn’t survey, designed to be suggestive, not informative, oh so powerful. Speakers were preparing to start in the front and you didn’t know which side to take. You had to close your eyes in a corner and let the sensation of hearing his breath across the room take over.
Taking thinking for a walk at your will, I discover more and more tunnels, all constructed by a necessity of the city which diverts from what landscape dictates, mostly in order to go between home and job. Even in your messy city this structure of need exists. Apart from that, digging is seldomly done for leisure, so in here I am not seduced, I am urged. A responsible maze directing me strictly. Tunnels underlie flection, and the grammar of the burrow is unfulfilling, you wanted me to experience lust, lust, I read now, is connected to austerity. I really hate that. Please play with me in the afterlife. In your city I am always protected by the concrete which has been poured into all gaps, as teeth are filled to keep dirt from going underground. Where sky could touch you. I have no need for dexterities when thinking of you in here. Territories deteriorate, because I want to start digging down after digging up to make lunar channels, avoiding to locate myself in relation to topography. Your gift is choking me.
Dreary bleakness, you have gone. This is new moon, still looming, and I find that getting closer to you in the darkness is keeping sadness at bay.
---
The radio piece [[//Piraterie in Somalia//->Piraterie2]] was made in the end of 2018.
---
[
==>
[[Index]]][
|===
$space[//Piraterie in Somalia//]
20 minutes, sounds, found audio tracks, in German
Podcast
2018
Between 2005 and 2011 attacks on trading vessels in the Gulf of Aden intensified. They usually resulted in ransom demands. The Gulf is an important international trade route (80% of the trade concern the EU) between Somalia and the Yemen. The attacks came from the Somalian coast. In reaction to these attacks, military operations and patrols against piracy were executed by the UN, the African Union, the EU, and other amalgamations of nation-state forces. For the EU this was an opportunity to realize an independent military operation without the NATO for the first time ("Operation Atalante"). From 2013, the attacks decreased quickly and have barely recurred since then. Piracy networks remain however.
At the latest since 2008, "pirates in Somalia" are a striking topic in the European media by which the image of the Somali pirate was established as a substitute for an entire discourse about the region of Somalia. The podcast episode deals with this media discourse and the construction of a popular European imaginary.
===|
<iframe width="100%" height="300" scrolling="no" frameborder="no" allow="autoplay" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/544534203&color=%23a8a294&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false&show_teaser=true&visual=true"></iframe>
]
---
A work that only exists for the sake of visitor outreach and my personal joy is the [[remote support->Remote2]] I started 2019 for the Whose Museum collective where everything bureaucratic becomes ornamental, and all discard gains in value, but where nothing is straight forward except the donation.
---
[
==>
[[Index]]]
[
|===
$space[//Remote Support at Whose Museum//]
Exchange process with the help of forms, emails, attachments, mail shipments, instructions and more
Part of Whose Museum
2019 ongoing
Whose Museum was founded by Laura Hatfield in Vancouver in 2008. The premise of this artist museum is that every donation has to be accepted. Since then, the museum has traveled far and grown considerably. I joined in 2012. It is a place where everything bureaucratic becomes ornamental, and all discard gains in value, but where nothing is straight forward except the donation. Often we use pseudo-bureaucratic structures to interact with the public and among ourselves. Since 2019, the Malmö branch resides in a gallery space where Whose Museum works with invited artists and the collection.
===|
A work that exists for the sake of visitor outreach and my personal joy, the //Remote Support// can be contacted with a simple form in order to get support on a question or problem. One of the following categories has to be ticked: praise, criticism, collection provenance, explanation, confusion, conceptual, advice, trivia, or ritual. The reply comes within a week in the shape of an email or a postal shipment. The resulting material trail (which isn‘t necessarily a straight-forward question-answer pair) is added to the data base of the museum.
Forms are available at Whose Museum, Kristianstadsgatan 16, Malmö or <a href="images/remote.pdf" target="_blank">here</a>.
]
---
<img src="images/remote-1.jpg">
---
While the //Remote Support// is conceived to happen from anywhere, anytime, the installation [[//Carry on windows//->Carry2]] was entirely in situ.
---
[
==>
[[Index]]]
[
|===
$space[//Carry on windows//]
Cut foil, added buttermilk pigment wash, photograph, acetone prints on tissues from local shops
In situ, Allerheiligenstrasse, Frankfurt am Main
2019
Contribution to the exhibition //Women on Aeroplanes: Stopover// at TOR in Frankfurt/Main (06.06. - 30.06.2019), tended by Marie-Hélène Gutberlet and Annett Busch. More information on the Women on Aeroplanes project at <a href="http://woa.kein.org" target="_blank">woa.kein.org</a>.
More works in the exhibition were:
<a href="http://www.temitayo.com" target="_blank">Temitayo Ogunbiyi,</a> <i>A Line</i>, 2019
<a href="http://fatoumatadiabate.com" target="_blank">Fatoumata Diabaté,</a> <i>Le jardin de l’AFMM à Montreuil</i>, 2006 (The garden of the Malian Women’s Association in Montreuil)and <i>La cour du foyer Bara</i>, 2005 (The court yard of the Bara hostel)
<a href="http://www.rahimagambo.com" target="_blank">Rahima Gambo,</a> <i>A Walk</i>, 2018-2019
They were accompanied by the Women on Aeroplanes library, four issues of the Women on Aeroplanes Inflight Magazine, Women on Aeroplanes posters, chairs, benches, and a table, black fabric screens to pop into the windows, a projector, an assembly of plants that came our way while setting up the show, the exhibition map and gathering program, as well as a quote by Kojo Laing cut out from a semi-transparent black mirror foil, and all that which happened impromptu at the gathering.
<img src="images/woa12.png" alt=""><br>
Morning at the exhibition. Light creeps in through the cut-outs to anchor the space to the sun in the galactic arrangement of bodies. Like a plant, the floor reacts to the light in green pigmentation. Like a photograph, an image is exposed and developed. Moving bodies behind the windows gain a filmic quality; their moving directs the eye to sweep up and down their shells as they rush along. An occasional gaze hits the space in turn. On the pillar in the front, a photograph from Rahima Gambo's series <i>A Walk</i>.
<img src="images/woa.png" alt=""><br>
View of exhibition space from outside, corner of Allerheiligentor/Lange Strasse.
<img src="images/woa7.png" alt=""><br>
In the nook far back behind us, there are Fatoumata Diabaté's works. Table, chairs, and benches are set up for those who want to linger here. Through the cut-outs in the milk foil on the windows, lines of light fall into the space. The two green lines of pigment trace two major diagonal axes between works in the exhibition. The zigzag pattern of light is interrupted by shadows of corners. They, unlike the two green traces, don't meet, reminiscent of a route full of stopovers.
<img src="images/woa13.png" alt=""><br>
The two triangular strips of rough pigment paint, ockre in the bottom right, and blue in the top left, frame and tilt the window panes. Colours and positioning associate with <a href="https://www.theshowroom.org/exhibitions/women-on-aeroplanes" target="_blank">Pamela Phatsimo Sunstrum's mural piece at The Showroom</a> in London made for the previous stop of Women on Aeroplanes, which reflects Bessie Head's poetic Botswana landscape of exile.
<img src="images/woa5.png" alt=""><br>
View of bench (Marie-Hélène Gutberlet, Janusch Ertler, and Patrick Keaveney), and part of the <i>Carry on windows</i> installation. The photograph from 2014 shows Hotel Luxor at night. Looking at the picture, and then bending slightly to look through the cut-out in the window, the actual place can be seen across the street. There is a reflection of the hotel sign in the window, and an ocean of plants brightly lit. During the exhibition, the hotel was closed due to renovations.
===|
<img src="images/woa15.png" alt="">
<img src="images/woa2.png" alt="">
Prints from left to right:
Tissue from EmirET Grill on Allerheiligenstrasse, rub-off of "Pamela Phatsimo Sunstrum, Exalt B.H. 2018. Painted mural on the exterior of The Showroom. Photo: Daniel Brooke" with image, from The Showroom website.
Tissue available at TOR, rub-offs of Temitayo Ogunbiyi "You will find peace and play among palm trees, 2018, pencil on paper, 18 x 24 inches" in Inflight Magazine #2, p.19, the page number 18, and a schematic drawing of the inner ear.
Tissue from EmirET, rub-off from Inflight Magazine #1, p.14: "Samia Lakhdari, Zohra Drif, Djamila Bouhired and Hassiba Ben Bouali, the bomb planters in the Battle of Algiers" with image.
Tissue available at TOR, rub-offs from collage by Marie-Hélène Gutberlet in Inflight Magazine #1, p. 10.
Tissue brought from Berlin, rub-offs of a still image from Rahima Gambo's collaborative video work Tatsuniya (2017-ongoing), Inflight Magazine #1, p.30-31.
Tissue from a Samosa stall on Münchenerstrasse, rub-off from Inflight Magazine #1, p.25 (including page number), parts of a text by Kodwo Eshun, "Specific Grammars of Intricate Displacement".
Tissue available at TOR, rub-offs of another schematic drawing of the inner ear, and the word "FEMMES" as photographed by Marie-Hélène Gutberlet in a series of images of library shelf categorizations.
Tissue from Berlin, rub-off from Inflight Magazine #3, p.23 (including page number), a conversation between Pamela Phatsimo Sunstrum and Thenjiwe Niki Nkosi: "What has been so important about sharing a studio space is that anybody who comes in necessarily has to meet with, or deal with, or see both of us. I think that’s radical. Straight sharing sometimes implies that some- thing becomes less because you’ve divided it. Whereas radical sharing means that the thing becomes more because you are equally nourished by it. Rather than being about a portioning out of what’s available, it’s more of a pooling and then augmenting of what’s available. (261—62)".
Tissue from EmirET, rub-offs from a Guardian article by Gordon Bowker, 2007: "As this information was on Orwell's 1927 passport it can be presumed he acquired the tattoos in Burma. He was never a properly "correct" member of the Imperial class - hobnobbing with Buddhist priests, Rangoon prostitutes and British drop-outs. As Orwell himself noted, rebellious Burmese tribesmen thought tattoos gave magic protection from British bullets, and, as he himself grew more rebellious, perhaps he felt in need of his own protection against official hostility. The tattoos were probably a sign to members of the British establishment in Burma that he was not "one of them" - an attitude he sustained throughout his writing career. That attitude, highly fruitful for his writing, was also what made him a suspect to the intelligence authorities.", from Inflight Magazine #4, p.4-5, poem by Theresa Kampmeier "pretending to keep them in the air", "#4 Stopover", and p.25, headline of a BBC radio script by Venu Chitale, "How to make do without meat".
<img src="images/woa0.png" alt="quote from Kojo Laing 1988">
View of entrance to the exhibition space where Kojo Laing is quoted from his 1988 novel <i>Woman of the Aeroplanes</i>:
"We shall unregulate you immediately if you don't jump out of here with your cruel traxcavator"
]
---
[
=><=
<i>shifting landmarks</i>
(...)
this is touch and go
text, safe representation is akin to a guy on the couch who controls the world from his TV
text, progressive writing moves with a woman in flight
ongoing ongoing
this is the everyday
holding up this building
turn the doomed fuel station
into a landing strip
a touch-down beacon
touch and move
humming along and echoing back
we collect losts and interrogate founds
what is in your carrier bag today my dear
what are we filling our pockets with stories for
what if a critter jumps down from the net
midflight
an invitation to caress
a personal story
skip skip skip
touch ground unground
touch the ground
kiss it
killed it
there is some space in my luggage for your story
are we going the same way
then bring it in there
a touch-over
a plane in reverse
crosses borders as easily as the one that just goes up and ahead
go ahead
even if the distance crossed is irreversible
the plane can flow back to the same point twice
or thrice she can
have you been
have i been where
up in the light
(...)
Excerpt of poem printed in Women on Aeroplanes Inflight Magazine #4, 2019
]
---
Later in 2019 I made a piece distributed across nine websites [[//※//->x2]] .
---
[
==>
[[Index]]]
[
|===
//※//
Circular short story posted in comment sections on websites, QR codes
2019
Presented as an object with an accompanying sound piece.
The work //※// conjoins young girls with old men, refers to the circularity of its own tale, nods towards the breaking in of a lucky coincidence (or a lack thereof), and works within the logic of reference – which is a movement toward something but never, in itself, is a matter of content.
While, in the sound piece, the closed story goes around and around continuously, on the linked websites, the hermetic assumption of the story is annotated by the surrounding content and framed by the surrounding designs, inverting the relationship of comment and main body.
Produced for LOW TEXT #6: Footnotes (27.11.2019 at Flutgraben Berlin).
<a href="https://rollthedice.online/en/cdice/nine-sided-dice" target="_blank"><img src="images/web1.png" alt="qr-code"></a>
<a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/review/twains-aquarium-club" target="_blank"><img src="images/web2.png" alt="qr-code"></a>
<a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/542406.Must_We_Burn_Sade_" target="_blank"><img src="images/web3.png" alt="qr-code"></a>
<a href="http://www.constantinaevripidou.com/girls-just-wanna-have-fun/" target="_blank"><img src="images/web4.png" alt="qr-code"></a>
===|
<a href="https://lithub.com/what-to-know-about-self-managed-abortion-care/" target="_blank"><img src="images/web5.png" alt="qr-code"></a>
<a href="https://www.discogs.com/de/Vladimir-Nabokov-Lolita-And-Poems-Read-By-Vladimir-Nabokov/master/1425096#" target="_blank"><img src="images/web6.png" alt="qr-code"></a>
<a href="https://soundcloud.com/ignatzhoch/merry-clayton" target="_blank"><img src="images/web7.png" alt="qr-code"></a>
<a href="https://anreapatchwork.blogspot.com/2016/12/shelley-jackson-patchwork-girl.html" target="_blank"><img src="images/web8.png" alt="qr-code"></a>
<a href="https://youtu.be/RbgoHby1jmo?t=582" target="_blank"><img src="images/web9.png" alt="qr-code"></a>
]
---
The performance [[Acting on resigned fates->Performance2]] from 2019 is still ongoing. The work, only shown in private spaces, sows the seeds to gather material for a later more public piece.
---
[
==>
[[Index]]]
[
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$space[//Acting on resigned fates//]
Roughly 30 minutes performed by the artist
Performance
2019
The performance is exclusively shown in private spaces. It crosses over between tax law, the erotic, and art history.
Book [<a href="mailto: mail@theresakampmeier.de">here,</a>] please mention date and location.
Image: From the "Apocalypse Tapestry" in Angers, France, 14th century
===|
<img src="images/anger.png">
]
---
Later the inquiry of the performance also led to the dispersed sculpture [[//Finders keepers//->Finders2]].
My latest work is the exhibition [[//Konvoi spezial//->Konvoi2]].
---
[
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$space[//Imaginary civic space – introducing works that don’t exist to people who are not looking for art//]
4-day workshop in Shanghai with ten participants, excerpt from the report
2017
Lingering around the neighborhood helped us understand localized sets of social and material interactions. We each chose one place to investigate in particular: a bus stop, an intersection, a sculpture park, a fuel station, a parking area, a 7/11-type of shop, a row of small restaurants, a bend in the street, a sitting area in front of a library, a parking lot beneath a highway, a public toilet. Not only the weather, the vantage point, the people present, but also the current mood changed our perception of a place. The more time we spent there, the more clearly we could share it with the group. We didn’t try to deduce a local definition of public, or even civic, space, but loosely followed the idea that public space doesn’t exist in the abstract, but is manifold and situated.
Mapping findings and associations on large posters, we started creating quick imaginary scenarios akin to Fluxus scores. Everybody worked on everybody’s sketches. By the second day, we started writing whole imaginary events, confined by the spatial limits of a sticky note only. We found ways of telling those stories on site by the most simple means and with the materials already in place. A note on the wall of a phone booth or a short story the shopkeeper tells her customers were thus the produced works, but they remain undocumented and their reception is unknown. This was not the exclusive work of qualified artists and established technique, but local practice.
===|
<img src="images/exist.png">
]
---
In the meantime, this work has been [[reconfigured->fluxus1]].
---
==>
[[[Index->Index]]]<index|
//pretending to keep them in the air//
accident assassinate accurate acrid accord accede pee
access assess assets assembly
caress empress carcass
delay debris decay daily displace
factor factory fabricate agent
imitation indentation invitation implication limination
pistol pilots polite politics polish posit post pivot body
plainly planely painly apparently soundly
metafiction mate-fiction malfunction misunderstanding
transmission mission intermission missive inference transit
unresolved unburied undead alive
Printed in Women on Aeroplanes Inflight Magazine #4, 2019
---
<a href="images/Kampmeier Hintergrund und Quellen Somalia.pdf" target="_blank"><i>Piraterie in Somalia,</i></a> 2018 (DE)
<a href="images/Kampmeier On learning from the people.pdf" target="_blank"><i>On "learning from the people",</i></a> 2018 (EN)
<a href="images/Theresa Kampmeier - BURROW BAY MOON.pdf" target="_blank"><i>Burrow Bay Moon,</i></a> 2018 (EN)
<a href="images/Kampmeier & Cheng - Stickler's Digest.pdf" target="_blank"><i>Stickler's Digest,</i></a> 2016<br>collaboration with Cheng Kitsum (EN)
<a href="images/Theresa Kampmeier - On Standing Up.pdf" target="_blank"><i>On Standing Up,</i></a> 2016 (EN)
<a href="images/Poems of the Cold - Theresa Kampmeier.pdf" target="_blank"><i>Poems of the Cold,</i></a> 2015 (EN)
<a href="images/Theresa Kampmeier - Grund Schacht.pdf" target="_blank"><i>Grund Schacht,</i></a> 2014 (DE)
---
Head to the book [[//Burrow Bay Moon//->Burrow2]].
Or return to [[//Stickler's Digest//->Stickler's Digest]].
---
[
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$space[//On Standing Up//]
2016
//Stand Up// is a phone number tagged on an exhibition wall. Looks like it was done quickly by someone unskilled. Calling, one finds a poem recorded on its answering machine. In this poem, a woman receives a lift out of the city by an old friend. She called him after having fallen down somewhere. They talk until he drops her off in the middle of fields and forests. It turns out that the tagged number belongs to the driver.
Stand up, don't stand down, off, by, out, on, aside, back, over, still. Standing up, this moment of exposure to the unknown, before any action has really happened but openness is imminent while the body moves up to balance on its legs. In this movement, may it be physical or mental, lies the movens of sovereignty. When you stand up, you really stand alone. The sense of agency becomes clearer when standing up is used as an imperative: Stand up!, my mother told me when I was small, because back then I was living closer to the ground than now. Standing up implied another height to reach. But I also had to lift myself because part of learning to use my body vertically was to fall down often. Standing up after falling.
My thoughts on this piece are gathered in a knot of knots. It's a knot I wished could be made actual in space in order to see better where connections between knots are, and how they weave and weave. For a time, I imagined one of the two characters in the piece carrying a large physical bundle of string which was this knot, my knot of thoughts, the manifestation of the story's problem smuggled to the inside. But it turned out she couldn‘t carry it for me. Whenever I listened to my recordings of those scripts, all I could hear was them talking about adding or untying a Not. At that moment, the story was standing in its own way, and it decided to hand the piece of knot right back to me.
Stand Up – but what is it if not a comedy show, the monologue delivered to the audience. This call to stand up has nothing to do with a political slogan, it brings laughter through the back door. What it does is play. It, and in it its characters, and on top of it the voice; it plays identification, spins all its cranks, then snaps back. It makes you forget it in the instant it passes, just to then pound on the same spot again. As poetry, as the knot of knots, the text in the piece is written to have no center or periphery, to be a folded map on which what happens, happens, but it makes us all, the characters and the caller, the audience to whom the monologue is delivered at the end of an answering machine, which even turns on itself, too; it makes us all delivered to a freak sense of destiny. It is vandalism. Terribly superficial story telling. She plays with him, or she seems to play with him, because her intentions are so pure, she truly follows them, there is no hidden agenda at all. Feels like I'm not ever gentle enough. Experiencing such intensity, he simply expects a hidden motivation. His sense of inferiority is standing in his way. Knowing, but not knowing, that which standing up opens you up to, which is experience, and risking, daring to experience experience; because what do I do the whole time – I await, I anticipate fearfully, a change, a movement, imminent disaster that never comes, against which I still have to move – it's lacking. But losing the lack, both he and I wonder, is what she did.
===|
Storytelling, just like anything else, depends on luck. It is no exception, it is a gamble. I try filling the gamble with love. The imperative of stand up! is transformed into its infinitive every time to stand up approaches yet again. I agonize over the call for a counter hegemony, the faint echo of political activism, when writing it, when uttering it. Always giving more. This is the writing of the lift; the infinitive which is Saying in its execution. The rupture a fall provides gets inscribed very literally as a wound on the body, turns into a scar, engraving, ornament. All of it represents the Drawing of a fall; as she says.
In times of war, ruptures become more apparent. War seems to be a slip in the universe, the world slips and it gets wounded. Even my little private fall in a country that is still very much whole on its own territory, I cannot perceive it outside of war any longer. Then the becoming nurse is as immanent as water in water. It is a way of staying out of formalized movements, antagonisms – of associating but remaining infinitive, other. The anguish needed to heal and not to repair, it grows alongside care, both most urgently at the limits of being and only attained in encounters, attempting the intimacy of speaking out and listening, of touch. Being confidantes, accomplices, as a mode of gathering, it makes it possible to associate and act agonistically. It doesn‘t overlook the impossibility of communion.
What stands up remains valid after analysis. The call to stand up is just a preparation to escape this analysis which affirms its object into its own sphere, which annexes, often in the shape of the academic or commercial. The delusion that something has been checked and is therefore safe belongs into the elegant sandbox of the play that doesn't become, turn into, but owns. There is no salvation.
The relationship between the microphone and my mouth, it is sealed by the waves, and the person on the other end and me, we are physically connected by all the transformed energy of waves and sparks and waves. Then to think of audible silence makes me so happy. Because it contains the potential of these connections while being nothing, being the only reality I can truly connect with, while my speaking comes from pain. I have something to say. To stand the words, to stand the words, truly.
The sound filters of the system in the answering machine take the sound of my recorded voice apart. The answering machine's settings are designed for high efficiency and excellence in phone conferences of professional businesses, yet they distort the voice so absolutely that the piece undoes itself and whatever of that physical connection to my voice remains, in its endlessly repeating document, is a remain without provenance, a souvenir maybe, a corpse. The contact between us is a story. While supposedly a marked tag turns the exhibition space dirty – is a sign of vandalism, the signature in vandalism, the territorial claim of the streets, and surely here only a meagre substitute representation of the graffiti artist scratching the city, which recalls dirt into the show – when finally the beep sounds and the caller can answer, it is the turn of a mirror – it transgresses, it ruptures, it pulls back into being the caller who tried to listen to this mutilated chain of signifiers for so long they forgot they were on the phone themselves.
]
---
Go back to [[//Stand Up//->Stand2]].
---
[
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$space[//Fluxus-Gerüchte: Kunst in Textform für Menschen, die nicht nach Kunst suchen//]
Four days with a group of participants
Workshop in Arnsberg
2020
Inspired by the Fluxus movement of the 1960s under the motto "art for everybody" we experimented with ephemeral text interventions in public space playing with the imagination. They could happen in a variety of media – on sticky tape, with chalk, played from a smartphone, in conversation, or on a piece of garbage flying in the wind. We scoured the town centre, infected each other with it, and told its stories anew. We designed ideas for simple, text-based art interventions. They made it possible to share our visions of places in Arnsberg with others. In the process we encountered questions of what role art and poetry can play in everyday life.
On the right: Sketch, 2019.
Below: Invitation, 2020.
===|
<img src="images/sketch.jpg">
]
---
<img src="images/fluxusworkshop.jpg">
---
The [[predecessor->fluxus2]] of this workshop took place in a Shanghai neighbourhood in 2017.
---
==>
[[[Index->Index]]]<index|
[
|===
$space[//Konvoi spezial//]
With Yala Juchmann, Liska Schwermer-Funke and three locals
Mobile exhibition in Arnsberg, a small West-German town
August 1 to 31, 2020
For //Konvoi spezial//, three tandems, each made up of a local and an artist, developed art works from explorations in Arnsberg. Translated into large format prints, they were shown on 20 private cars and 22 public service vehicles (among them garbage trucks, the mayor‘s limousine, and lawn mowers). During the month-long exhibition, the drivers became everyday art mediators.
Next to developing two of the works with senior care manager Ramona Schmitt, I conceived of and organized this exhibition in cooperation with the local administration and the state office for culture in North Rhine- Westphalia.
More documentation on the official <a href="http://stadtbesetzung.de/staedte/arnsberg/kuenstlerischer-konvoi-rollt-durch-arnsberg/" target="_blank">project page</a>.
On the right: One of the works on a van from town services.
Below: Invitation image.
===|
<img src="images/konvoi2.jpg">
]
---
<img src="images/konvoi3.jpg">
---
[
|===
With Ramona Schmitt
$space[//Tunnelblicke//]
Cardboard, glue, local newspaper and hiking map, chalk paint, rope
12 x 17 x 22 cm each
Two sculptures
2020
Like in a puzzle picture, the town's two outstanding landmarks are placed to rest on opposite ends of the old town tunnel. The hollow subverts the sculptural pedestal, turning it into a passage way.
On the right: //Tunnelblicke// documented by Barbara Anneser, Arnsberg.
===|
<img src="images/konvoi4.jpg">
<img src="images/konvoi5.jpg">
]
---
==>
[[[Index->Index]]]<index|
(align: "=><=")[
[[[English->Start]]]<start|.
[[[Deutsch->StartDE]]]<start|.
This storytelling website is best viewed from a computer.]
[
|===
//※//
Kurzgeschichte verteilt über neun Kommentare auf diversen Webseiten, neun QR Codes, Laserdruck auf Transparentpapier, Tonschleife, etwa 4 Minuten, auf Englisch
Multimedia
2019
//※// hat mit jungen Frauen und alten Männern zu tun, mit der Zirkularität von Erzählung, dem unterbrechenden Moment der glücklichen Begebenheit (oder ihres Ausbleibens) und der Natur der Referenz – die eine Bewegung hin zu etwas, aber nie ein Inhalt selbst ist. Durch das Soundpiece wird die zirkulär geschriebene Kurzgeschichte im Ausstellungsraum fortdauernd ‘im Kreis’ vorgelesen.
Die gesammelten Inhalte (und das Erscheinungsbild) der Webseiten brechen in die vermeintliche Geschlossenheit der Kurzgeschichte ein, rahmen sie und drehen das übliche Verhältnis von Inhalt und Kommentar um.
Entworfen für LOW TEXT #6: Footnotes (27.11.2019 im Flutgraben Berlin).
===|
<a href="https://rollthedice.online/en/cdice/nine-sided-dice" target="_blank"><img src="images/web1.png" alt="qr-code"></a>
<a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/review/twains-aquarium-club" target="_blank"><img src="images/web2.png" alt="qr-code"></a>
<a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/542406.Must_We_Burn_Sade_" target="_blank"><img src="images/web3.png" alt="qr-code"></a>
<a href="http://www.constantinaevripidou.com/girls-just-wanna-have-fun/" target="_blank"><img src="images/web4.png" alt="qr-code"></a>
<a href="https://lithub.com/what-to-know-about-self-managed-abortion-care/" target="_blank"><img src="images/web5.png" alt="qr-code"></a>
<a href="https://www.discogs.com/de/Vladimir-Nabokov-Lolita-And-Poems-Read-By-Vladimir-Nabokov/master/1425096#" target="_blank"><img src="images/web6.png" alt="qr-code"></a>
<a href="https://soundcloud.com/ignatzhoch/merry-clayton" target="_blank"><img src="images/web7.png" alt="qr-code"></a>
<a href="https://anreapatchwork.blogspot.com/2016/12/shelley-jackson-patchwork-girl.html" target="_blank"><img src="images/web8.png" alt="qr-code"></a>
<a href="https://youtu.be/RbgoHby1jmo?t=582" target="_blank"><img src="images/web9.png" alt="qr-code"></a>
]
---
==>
[[[Index->IndexDE]]]<index|
[
|===
$space[//Remote Support at Whose Museum//]
Partizipativer Prozess mithilfe von Formularen, Emails, Anhängen, Postsendungen, Anweisungen; Material/Dimensionen fallspezifisch
Whose Museum
Seit 2019
Das Whose Museum Kollektiv wurde 2008 in Kanada von einer tourenden Band gegründet. Prämisse des Künstlerinnenmuseums ist, dass jegliche Schenkung in die Sammlung aufgenommen wird. Seitdem ist das Projekt weit gereist und gewachsen. Ich bin seit 2012 dabei. Oft nutzen wir pseudo-bürokratische Strukturen für Interaktionen. An diesem Ort ist alles Bürokratische ornamental und jeglicher Abfall wird wertvoll, aber außer der Schenkung ist nichts so einfach, wie es scheint. Seit 2019 residiert das Malmö-Kapitel von Whose Museum in einem Gallerieraum, wo wir mit eingeladenen KünstlerInnen und der Sammlung arbeiten.
===|
Der //Remote Support// kann mithilfe eines Formulars kontaktiert werden, um zu einer Frage oder einem Problem Unterstützung zu bekommen. Eine der folgenden Kategorien ist dafür auszuwählen: Lob, Kritik, Herkunft, Erklärung, Verwirrung, Konzept, Rat, trivia oder Ritual. Die Antwort erfolgt innerhalb von einer Woche in Form einer Email oder Postsendung. Das entstehende Material, nicht unbedingt stringente Frage/Antwort-Paare, geht in die Datenbank von Whose Museum ein.
Formulare sind verfügbar bei Whose Museum, Kristianstadsgatan 16, Malmö oder <a href="images/remote.pdf" target="_blank">hier</a> (EN).
]
---
<img src="images/remote-1.jpg">
---
==>
[[[Index->IndexDE]]]<index|
[
|===
$space[//Carry on windows//]
Schnitte in weißer Fensterfolie, Buttermilch, Pigmente (Ocker, Phtalogrün, Preussisch Blau), Fotografie, Acetondrucke auf Servietten örtlicher Geschäfte, Spiegelfolie
In situ, Allerheiligenstrasse, Frankfurt am Main
2019
Beitrag zur Ausstellung Women on Aeroplanes: Stopover (06.06. - 30.06.2019). Mehr Informationen zum Gesamtprojekt auf <a href="http://woa.kein.org" target="_blank">woa.kein.org</a>.
===|
]
---
<img src="images/woa12.png" alt=""><br>
Morgens schleicht sich das Sonnenlicht durch die Ausschnitte, um den Raum in der galaktischen Anordnung der Körper an der Sonne zu verankern. Wie eine Pflanze reagiert der rote Boden der ehemaligen Tankstelle mit grüner Pigmentierung auf das Licht. Wie eine Fotografie wird ein Abbild belichtet und entwickelt. Bewegte Körper hinter den Fenstern gewinnen an filmischer Qualität; ihre Bewegung dirigiert das Auge auf und ab. Hin und wieder schießt dafür auch ein Blick in den Raum. Auf dem Pfeiler davor ein Bild aus Rahima Gambo's Serie <i>A Walk</i>.
<img src="images/woa.png" alt=""><br>
Blick auf den Ausstellungsraum von der anderen Strassenseite, Ecke Allerheiligentor/Lange Strasse.
<img src="images/woa7.png" alt=""><br>
In der Ecke weit hinter uns liegt Fatoumata Diabatés Arbeit. Tisch, Stühle und Bänke sind aufgestellt für diejenigen, die etwas verweilen wollen. Durch die Schnitte in der Folie fallen Linien aus Licht in den Raum. Die beiden grünpigmentierten Linien zeichnen die zwei diagonalen Raumachsen zwischen den Werken der Ausstellung nach. Das Zickzack aus Licht wird von den Schatten der Winkel unterbrochen. Ungleich der grünen Spuren treffen sie sich nicht, erinnern an eine Route voller Zwischenstopps.
<img src="images/woa13.png" alt=""><br>
Die zwei dreieckigen Streifen grober Pigmentfarbe, Ocker unten rechts und Blau oben links, rahmen und kippen die Fensterfront. Farbe und Positionierung assoziieren mit <a href="https://www.theshowroom.org/exhibitions/women-on-aeroplanes" target="_blank">Pamela Phatsimo Sunstrums Fresko auf der Fassade des Londoner Showrooms</a> beim letzten Halt der Women on Aeroplanes, die wiederum auf Bessie Heads poetische Exillandschaft in Botswana reflektierte.
<img src="images/woa5.png" alt=""><br>
Ansicht einer Bank (Marie-Hélène Gutberlet, Janusch Ertler und Patrick Keaveney) und Teil der <i>Carry on windows</i> Installation. Die Fotografie von 2014 zeigt das nächtliche Hotel Luxor. Das Bild betrachtend und dann leicht zur Seite lehnend, ist durch den Schlitz in der Fensterfolie das tatsächlich Hotel gegenüber gesehen werden. Im Foto wird das Hotelschild in der Fensterfläche reflektiert und ein Meer an Pflanzen ist dahinter hell erleuchtet. Während der Ausstellung war das Hotel aufgrung von Renovierungen geschlossen.
<img src="images/woa15.png" alt="">
<img src="images/woa2.png" alt="">
Die Servietten verbinden buchstäbliche Abdrücke früherer Projektinhalte mit dem konkreten Ort und unseren wiederkehrenden Bedürfnissen als Teilnehmende des Zwischenstopps.
Drucke von links nach rechts:
Serviette vom EmirET Grill auf der Allerheiligenstrasse, Abdruck von "Pamela Phatsimo Sunstrum, Exalt B.H. 2018. Painted mural on the exterior of The Showroom. Photo: Daniel Brooke" mit Bild, von der The Showroom-Webseite.
Serviette aus TOR, Abdrücke von Temitayo Ogunbiyi "You will find peace and play among palm trees, 2018, pencil on paper, 18 x 24 inches" aus dem Inflight Magazine #2, S.19, der Seitennummer 18 und einer schematischen Zeichnung des Innenohrs.
Serviette vom EmirET, Abdruck aus Inflight Magazine #1, S.14: "Samia Lakhdari, Zohra Drif, Djamila Bouhired and Hassiba Ben Bouali, the bomb planters in the Battle of Algiers" mit Bild.
Serviette aus TOR, Abdrücke der Kollage von Marie-Hélène Gutberlet im Inflight Magazine #1, S.10.
Aus Berlin mitgebrachte Serviette, Abdrücke eines Stills aus Rahima Gambos kollaborativer Videoarbeit Tatsuniya (2017-ongoing), Inflight Magazine #1, S.30-31.
Serviette von einem Samosa-Imbiss auf der Münchenerstrasse, Abdrücke aus Inflight Magazine #1, S.25 (mit Seitennummer), Teile von Kodwo Eshun "Specific Grammars of Intricate Displacement".
Serviette aus TOR, Abdrücke einer weiteren schmatischen Innenohr-Zeichnung und des Worts "FEMMES", wie es von Marie-Hélène Gutberlet in einer Bildstrecke von Kategorisierungen auf Bibliotheksregalen festgehalten wurde.
Serviette aus Berlin, Abdruck aus Inflight Magazine #3, S.23 (mit Seitennummer), eines Gesprächs zwischen Pamela Phatsimo Sunstrum und Thenjiwe Niki Nkosi: "What has been so important about sharing a studio space is that anybody who comes in necessarily has to meet with, or deal with, or see both of us. I think that’s radical. Straight sharing sometimes implies that some- thing becomes less because you’ve divided it. Whereas radical sharing means that the thing becomes more because you are equally nourished by it. Rather than being about a portioning out of what’s available, it’s more of a pooling and then augmenting of what’s available. (261—62)".
Serviette vom EmirET, Abdrücke aus einem Guardian Artikel von Gordon Bowker, 2007: "As this information was on Orwell's 1927 passport it can be presumed he acquired the tattoos in Burma. He was never a properly "correct" member of the Imperial class - hobnobbing with Buddhist priests, Rangoon prostitutes and British drop-outs. As Orwell himself noted, rebellious Burmese tribesmen thought tattoos gave magic protection from British bullets, and, as he himself grew more rebellious, perhaps he felt in need of his own protection against official hostility. The tattoos were probably a sign to members of the British establishment in Burma that he was not "one of them" - an attitude he sustained throughout his writing career. That attitude, highly fruitful for his writing, was also what made him a suspect to the intelligence authorities.", aus dem Inflight Magazine #4, S.4-5, Theresa Kampmeier "pretending to keep them in the air", "#4 Stopover", und S.25, Überschrift eines BBC Radioskripts von Venu Chitale, "How to make do without meat".
<img src="images/woa0.png" alt="Zitat von Kojo Laing 1988">
Ansicht des Eingangsbereichs des Ausstellungsraums, wo Kojo Laing aus seinem Roman <i>Woman of the Aeroplanes</i> von 1988 zitiert wird:
"We shall unregulate you immediately if you don't jump out of here with your cruel traxcavator"
---
Nach einem Residenzaufenthalt in Shanghai entstand das Prosagedicht [[//Burrow Bay Moon//->Burrow Bay MoonDE]].
---
==>
[[[Index->IndexDE]]]<index|
[
|===
$space[//Piraterie in Somalia//]
20 Minuten, deutschsprachig, Geräusche, gefundene Audiospuren
Podcast
2018
Zwischen 2005 und 2011 intensivierten sich Angriffe auf Handelsschiffe im Golf von Aden, einer international bedeutsamen Handelsstrasse (die EU betrifft 80% des hierdurch transportierten Handels) zwischen Somalia und dem Jemen, die in der Regel zu Lösegeldforderungen führten. Die Angriffe wurden von der somalischen Küste aus geführt. Militärische Operationen und Patrouillen gegen Piraterie wurden von der UN, der Afrikanischen Union (AU), der EU und anderen Zusammenschlüssen nationalstaatlicher Streitmächte ausgeführt. Für die EU lag darin die Möglichkeit, erstmals eine eigenständige militärische Operation ohne die NATO umzusetzen („Operation Atalante“). Ab 2013 verringerten sich die Angriffe schnell und sind seitdem kaum mehr aufgetreten. Netzwerke der Piraterie bestehen dennoch weiter.
Spätestens seit 2008 sind „Piraten in Somalia“ ein großes Thema in den europäischen Medien. Das Bild des somalischen Piraten hat sich in den europäischen und nordamerikanischen Medien als Platzhalter für einen ganzen Diskurs um die Region Somalia etabliert. Die Podcast-Episode handelt von diesem Mediendiskurs und der Konstruktion einer populären europäischen Vorstellung.
===|
<iframe width="100%" height="300" scrolling="no" frameborder="no" allow="autoplay" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/544534203&color=%23a8a294&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false&show_teaser=true&visual=true"></iframe>
]
---
==>
[[[Index->IndexDE]]]<index|
$space[//树画树 / Baum zeichnet Baum//]
Französische Platanen in Shanghai, Fenster, Feinstaub
Fotografie
2017
Die Fotografie verschränkt verschiedene semiotische Interessen. Sie zeigt französische Platanen, ein Fenster, Feinstaub und Wind in Shanghai.
---
<img src="images/2017-tree.jpg">
---
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[[[Index->IndexDE]]]<index|
[
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$space[//Stand Up//]
Schriftzug mit Marker, digitaler Anrufbeantworter, Audio, 5 Minuten
Audioinstallation
2016
//Stand Up//, auf die Ausstellungswand getaggt, ist eine Telefonnummer. Auf dem Anrufbeantworter ist ein Prosagedicht aufgenommen, das von einer Fahrt aus der Stadt erzählt.
Der Essay [[//On Standing Up//->On Standing UpDE]] (EN) entstand parallel zur Telefonarbeit. Er reflektiert Bedeutungen des Aufstehens und erweitert die Ideen aus dem Gedicht.
Rechts: Teil des Skripts mit Gravur und Kreide auf Tafel, Katalogbild.
Unten: //Stand Up// im MMK Zollamt, Frankfurt am Main, 2016.
===|
<img src="images/standup.jpg" alt="nurses">
]
---
<img src="images/standup2.jpg" alt="phone number">
---
Das Künstlerbuch [[//Poems of the Cold//->Poems of the ColdDE]] entwarf 2015 fiktive Kunstinterventionen in einem chinesischen Hotspot für einheimische Reisen.
---
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[[[Index->IndexDE]]]<index|
[
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$space[//burning good phones (into designations)//]
Hörspiel, etwa 11 Minuten, englischsprachig
2016
Der griechische Begriff phone / φωνή bezeichnet das kleinste Tonsegment von Sprachlauten.
In der ersten Hälfte des Hörspiels, das auf einer weiten, sandigen Ebene unter einem Sternenhimmel spielt, zeichnen die beiden Protagonistinnen ein Bild. Sie erzählen sich von der Szene, die sie aufzeichnen. In der zweiten Hälfte enthaftet sich die Erzählstimme der Fiktion der Geschichte und spricht skriptlos die Aufname – oder weiterhin sich selbst – an, spricht geradezu ihr Denken aus, bevor sie es schon weiß.
===|
<iframe width="100%" height="300" scrolling="no" frameborder="no" allow="autoplay" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/258276229&color=%23a8a294&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false&show_teaser=true&visual=true"></iframe>
]
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[[[Index->IndexDE]]]<index|
[
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$space[//Poems of the Cold//]
Karton mit Farbpostkarten und Taschenbuch im Offsetdruck, Text auf Englisch und in chinesischer Übersetzung, 15x10cm, 29 Postkarten, 68 Seiten, Auflage von 280
Buch-Objekt
2015
Das Künstlerbuch //Poems of the Cold// war ein Weg, Signale eines unbekannten Orts zu empfangen. Als ein typisches Postkartensouvenir wurde es von Strassenverkäuferinnen in Xiamen verteilt. Die Bilder auf den Postkarten sind Reproduktionen analoger Fotografien aus der Stadt und digitale Collagen aus den Themenbereichen der Geschichte des Buchs, in dem die Protagonisten durch Xiamen ziehen, über populärkulturelle Ereignisse in Chinas jüngerer Vergangenheit eingehen, von der Relativitätstheorie, synthetischen blauen Pigmenten und Traditioneller Chinesischer Medizin sprechen. Sie fangen an, auf ihrem Weg Kunstinterventionen und Performances zu schaffen, was das Buch selbst die urbane Landschaft der Stadt neu interpretieren lässt, in der es spielt. Zentrale Motive der Arbeit sind Reflektionen, Wasser, Geräusche, Verzögerung und Freundschaft.
===|
<img src="images/box-cover.jpg" alt="poems">
Oben: Das Objekt.
Unten: Eine der Postkarten.
Hier ist ein vollständiges PDF der <a href="images/Poems of the Cold - Theresa Kampmeier.pdf" target="_blank">//Poems of the Cold//</a>.
]
---
<img src="images/postcards3.jpg" alt="postcard">
---
2013 entwickelte ich meine erste Installation im öffentlichen Raum, [[//Weiße Nacht//->Weiße NachtDE]].
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[[[Index->IndexDE]]]<index|
[
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$space[//Grund Schacht//]
Grafik und handschriftlicher Text in Laserkopie auf Transparentpapier, handgebunden mit Umschlag, deutschsprachig, 29x21cm, 40 Seiten
Künstlerbuch
2014
Der Text der Arbeit kann <a href="images/Theresa Kampmeier - Grund Schacht.pdf" target="_blank">hier</a> heruntergeladen werden.
===|
<img src="images/heft.jpg">
]
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<img src="images/Schacht_web.jpg">
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[[[Index->IndexDE]]]<index|
[
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$space[//Weiße Nacht//]
Fiberglaswellplatten, Stahl, Stahlseil, Dachpappe und ein Audioloop
Installation
2013
Das Lichthaus steht an der Stelle eines im Zweiten Weltkrieg zerbombten Klosterflügels und ist üblicherweise auch bei Ausstellungen geschlossen. Mit der Installation wurde es durchgehbar. An eine Nissenhütte erinnernd lag der konische Wellplattentunnel zwischen den geöffneten Fenstern. Aus der Ferne erklang mehrmals am Tag ein Chor aus einer summenden Stimme und Stadtgeräuschen.
Mehr Dokumentation gibts auf der <a href="http://www.lichthaus-arnsberg.de/theresa-kampmeier" target=_blank>Projektseite</a>.
Rechts: Installationsansicht.
Unten: Postermotiv.
===|
<img src="images/weissenacht_web.jpg">
]
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<img src="images/winkel_web.jpg" alt="Poster of the exhibition">
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Zurück zum [[[Anfang->StartDE]]]<start|.
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[[[Index->IndexDE]]]<index|
[
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$space[//Gothenburg Cultural Guided Tours//]
Performance von <a href="https://marfjell.wordpress.com" target="_blank"> Mar Fjell</a> und Theresa Kampmeier
Im Nordstan Einkaufszentrum in Göteborg, Schweden
Mit Buchung, ca 30 Minuten, auf English
2012
Die Performance war eine kollaborative Übung im Erkunden und Verhandeln der Wahrnehmung öffentlicher Räume. Darin erzählten wir allerdings sicher niemandem, dass wir keine Erlaubnis einzutreten hatten. Es folgt ein Bericht.
Gothenburg Cultural Guided Tours - A Report From The Nordstan Shopping Mall:
Wearing our uniforms with formal name tags, showing one capital letter indicating the guide's first name cut off by a dot: M.Fjell and T.Kampmeier. We await the group by one of the side entrances of Nordstan, very close to its middle axis. Welcoming them, we make it very clear that the working environment of the place shall not be disturbed by our tour, and thus they are asked to pose questions later. We would like our visitors to behave as casually as possible. The group ponderously crosses the shopping centre. We stay silent until, disgorged on the other side, we are entering the customs office entrance into a hallway. Reaching the lower floor in small groups due to the size of the elevators, we wait downstairs for our visitors to arrive in the same kind of hallway as upstairs. In between two fire protection doors, we point out once more that it will be very important to be quiet now. Then the basement starts, a corridor, long, long, with identical doors to all sides, and in neon light there are young people emptying boxes into storages, they greet us amicably. Again, we traverse the centre, this time only across its long side.
Briefly, M.Fjell informs the group on a documentary series broadcasted on Swedish TV in 2012 which showed people spending time at Nordstan without participating in the shopping. Then, we ask our group to line up in front of the door at the end of the corridor and peek through the keyhole behind which busy people are working, and where we of course would not like to disturb if we entered. When everybody has taken their turn in catching a glimpse, we enter a door on the side into a staircase all covered in marble stones, up, up, until we arrive in a glass-paned foyer. Pointing at the front desk lady behind the glass, T. Kampmeier explains that, just now, we passed all the backdoors of the stores.
We abandon the building for the outside. On the roof of the shopping centre, we find ourselves in an exact replica of the old road network below. One walks in between high office buildings through a park; we pass a metal gate onto the main axis, and from there we stroll towards the parking garage on the short backside of the shopping centre. Very slowly, the group takes its time to look around. Arriving in the vestibule of the parking garage, we indicate a small elevator by the side, open its doors in order to show it to the group, and point out how it is very special for two reasons. Firstly, this elevator only goes up (as it says on a brass plaque next to it). Secondly, the elevator stems from Nordstan's early years and thus is still covered in chocolate wrapping paper thought of as ornamental decoration, the aluminum nowadays not used on foods anymore, and its shining nicely. The group jumps at the chance to go in while we are holding the door, and slide their fingertips over the inner lining. M.Fjell goes down the hallway and exits onto a slim passway along the parking deck's side to expect the participants once they are finished. From where they are waiting, one can look down into the backstreet where we met in the beginning, and the building on the opposite side of the street consists of open-plan offices into which we get perfect insight. M.Fjell tells the storyline of a film premiering a year ago in this place. It was called 'Challenge Your Leader', as one can also read on a poster hanging across the street in big, cloud-shaped letters. Then they announce that next we will walk on the smallest pavement in Gothenburg, meaning that the participants are asked to walk carefully one after another. After crossing the parking lot, we take them up a coil for the cars on the inside slope. Through the fencing of the pavement participants can look all the way down into the bottom floor. Arriving on the top floor of the garage, standing in the middle of a deserted parking lot, we rest for a minute before M.Fjell and T.Kampmeier exclaim Now, we are on top of the world and gaze up towards the sky while inhaling deeply. The group is left there after they got a chance to pose their questions, and the guided tour is over.
<img src="images/nordstan4.jpg" alt="View of the guides in the basement">
<img src="images/nordstan8.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan7.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
===|
<img src="images/nordstan1_web.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan14.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan2_web.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan13.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan12.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan11.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan10.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan9.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan3.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan6.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan5.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
]
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[[[Index->IndexDE]]]<index|
//pretending to keep them in the air//
accident assassinate accurate acrid accord accede pee
access assess assets assembly
caress empress carcass
delay debris decay daily displace
factor factory fabricate agent
imitation indentation invitation implication limination
pistol pilots polite politics polish posit post pivot body
plainly planely painly apparently soundly
metafiction mate-fiction malfunction misunderstanding
transmission mission intermission missive inference transit
unresolved unburied undead alive
Printed in Women on Aeroplanes Inflight Magazine #4, 2019
---
<a href="https://www.theresakampmeier.de/halfhourseventhseal.html" target="_blank">*Half an Hour Under the Seventh Seal,*</a> 2021 (EN)
<a href="images/Kampmeier Hintergrund und Quellen Somalia.pdf" target="_blank"><i>Piraterie in Somalia,</i></a> 2018 (DE)
<a href="images/Kampmeier On learning from the people.pdf" target="_blank"><i>On "learning from the people",</i></a> 2018 (EN)
<a href="images/Theresa Kampmeier - BURROW BAY MOON.pdf" target="_blank"><i>BURROW BAY MOON,</i></a> 2018 (EN)
<a href="images/Kampmeier & Cheng - Stickler's Digest.pdf" target="_blank"><i>Stickler's Digest,</i></a> Kollaboration mit Cheng Kitsum, 2016 (EN)
<a href="images/Theresa Kampmeier - On Standing Up.pdf" target="_blank"><i>On Standing Up,</i></a> 2016 (EN)
<a href="images/Poems of the Cold - Theresa Kampmeier.pdf" target="_blank"><i>Poems of the Cold,</i></a> 2015 (EN)
<a href="images/Theresa Kampmeier - Grund Schacht.pdf" target="_blank"><i>Grund Schacht,</i></a> Text, 2014 (DE)
---
==>
[[[Index->IndexDE]]]<index|
Die Medien, in denen meine Werke entstehen, reichen von Installation, Fotografie und Sound zu Skulptur, Buch und partizipativem Projekt. Was diese Arbeiten verbindet ist, dass ihr Entstehungsprozess im Schreiben liegt. Langzeitverpflichtungen und Kollaborationen sind mir wichtig und ich hoffe, mich verantwortungsvoll zu engagieren, wo ich dazu eingeladen werde.
---
[
|===
<a href="https://www.ruralreconstruction.com" target="_blank">ruralreconstruction.com</a>
<a href="https://www.brotbaumregime.info" target="_blank">brotbaumregime.info</a>
<a href="http://stechlin-institut.org/" target="_blank">stechlin-institut.org</a>
(text-style: "rumble")[<a href="https://www.whosemuseum.org" target="_blank">whosemuseum.org</a>]
<a href="http://www.aeproject.info" target="blank">aeproject.info</a>
<a href="https://kingbarneyparsons.com" target="_blank">kingbarneyparsons.com</a>
<a href="http://www.kitsumcheng.com/" target="_blank">kitsumcheng.com</a>
<a href="https://www.patreon.com/tomorjudy" target="_blank">patreon.com/tomorjudy</a>
<a href="https://www.bbk-berlin.de/" target="_blank">bbk-berlin.de</a>
<a href="https://www.stadtbesetzung.de" target="_blank">stadtbesetzung.de</a>
<a href="http://amspacesh.com/" target="_blank">amspacesh.com</a>
===|
<a href="https://www.kein-abseits.de" target="_blank">kein-abseits.de</a>
<a href="http://woa.kein.org/" target="_blank">woa.kein.org</a>
<a href="https://paletten.net/" target="_blank">paletten.net</a>
<a href="http://www.intolerance-berlin.de/" target="_blank">intolerance-berlin.de</a>
<a href="https://www.studienstiftung.de/studienfoerderung/selbstbewerbung/" target="_blank">studienstiftung.de/selbstbewerbung</a>
<a href="https://www.iaaw.hu-berlin.de/" target="_blank">iaaw.hu-berlin.de</a>
<a href="http://staedelschule.de/" target="_blank">staedelschule.de</a>
<a href="https://trendywendy.bandcamp.com/" target="_blank">trendywendy.bandcamp.com</a>
<a href="http://kunstverein-arnsberg.de/" target="_blank">kunstverein-arnsberg.de</a>
]
---
==>
[[[Index->IndexDE]]]<index|
[
|===
Willst Du stöbern?
Folge dem [[Pfad->TrailDE]] oder fang mit einem [[Salto->CategoriesDE]] an.
===|
Hier gibt es [[Neuigkeiten->NewsDE]].
(link-reveal: "Schreib mir")[ an mail@theresakampmeier.de].
Direkt zum [[[Index->IndexDE]]]<index| der Seite.
]
[
|===
$space[//Acting on resigned fates//]
Etwa 30 Minuten aufgeführt von der Künstlerin
Performance
seit 2019
Eine Performance, die auf Buchung über meine Website hin ausschließlich im Privaten gezeigt wird. Inhaltlich schlägt //Acting on resigned fates// eine Brücke zwischen Steuerrecht, Erotik und Kunstgeschichte.
[<a href="mailto: mail@theresakampmeier.de">Hier</a>] unter Angabe von Datum und Vorführort buchen.
Bild: Ausschnitt aus der „Apokalypse von Angers“, Wandteppich, Frankreich, 14. Jahrhundert
===|
<img src="images/anger.png">
]
---
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[[[Index->IndexDE]]]<index|
[
|===
$space[//Burrow Bay Moon//]
Taschenbuch, Offsetdruck, Text auf Englisch und in chinesischer Übersetzung, 146x96 mm, 60 Seiten, Auflage von 300
Prosagedicht
2018
Zentrale Motive des Texts sind die der Freundschaft, der Organisation von Wissen, dem „irdenen Bauch“ einer Stadt, der sozialen Seite von Kunst, Grenzgebieten, Kontextualisierung, Beschwörung, Trauer und Sehnsucht.
===|
Zuerst herausgegeben von am Art Space und Goethe-Institut Shanghai, 2018
Eine gekürzte Version wurde 2020 in einem Reader von Broken Dimanche Press Berlin herausgegeben
Hier ist ein PDF des gesamten <a href="images/Theresa Kampmeier - BURROW BAY MOON.pdf" target="_blank">Buches</a>.
]
---
//What is expendable. It’s been pouring rain. Walking through generous wall-framed streets under a mint-coloured umbrella at dusk, peaceful, beautiful, wet, and blue. In the archive you gave me, I enter little worlds. Collected notes of nearly twenty years of observing and writing. Taking all leave from work, I want to dwell there.
What the plane trees and moving spotlights from passing cars, hustling legs, and wet hemlines make me think of: I will take us for a walk. We never knew when to stop walking, walk was the basic pattern of our lives at a time when we were also travelling across each other’s body in a frenzy; walking that was thinking, thinking that was speaking, and writing that was walking. Walking your story in the rain today. Am I at your will?//
---
Vorher beantwortete die Audioinstallation [[//Stand Up//->Stand UpDE]] Anrufe.
---
==>
[[[Index->IndexDE]]]<index|
Zusammen mit drei Städten und Museen entwickle ich das Ausstellungsprojekt <a href="https://www.brotbaumregime.info/" target="_blank">//Das Brotbaumregime//</a> im Sauerland in 2023.
---
//Vom Rücken//
Installation im öffentlichen Raum
<a href="https://www.schmallenberger-sauerland.de/erleben/veranstaltungen/detailansicht/?tx_npt3events_event_id=145036&cHash=67d527456e69569b096d0d59de3e50b0" target="_blank">Stadtbesetzung Schmallenberg</a>
6. August – 18. September, 2022
---
==>
[[[Start->StartDE]]]<start|
[
|===
$space[//On Standing Up//]
2016
//Stand Up// is a phone number tagged on an exhibition wall. Looks like it was done quickly by someone unskilled. Calling, one finds a poem recorded on its answering machine. In this poem, a woman receives a lift out of the city by an old friend. She called him after having fallen down somewhere. They talk until he drops her off in the middle of fields and forests. It turns out that the tagged number belongs to the driver.
Stand up, don't stand down, off, by, out, on, aside, back, over, still. Standing up, this moment of exposure to the unknown, before any action has really happened but openness is imminent while the body moves up to balance on its legs. In this movement, may it be physical or mental, lies the movens of sovereignty. When you stand up, you really stand alone. The sense of agency becomes clearer when standing up is used as an imperative: Stand up!, my mother told me when I was small, because back then I was living closer to the ground than now. Standing up implied another height to reach. But I also had to lift myself because part of learning to use my body vertically was to fall down often. Standing up after falling.
My thoughts on this piece are gathered in a knot of knots. It's a knot I wished could be made actual in space in order to see better where connections between knots are, and how they weave and weave. For a time, I imagined one of the two characters in the piece carrying a large physical bundle of string which was this knot, my knot of thoughts, the manifestation of the story's problem smuggled to the inside. But it turned out she couldn‘t carry it for me. Whenever I listened to my recordings of those scripts, all I could hear was them talking about adding or untying a Not. At that moment, the story was standing in its own way, and it decided to hand the piece of knot right back to me.
Stand Up – but what is it if not a comedy show, the monologue delivered to the audience. This call to stand up has nothing to do with a political slogan, it brings laughter through the back door. What it does is play. It, and in it its characters, and on top of it the voice; it plays identification, spins all its cranks, then snaps back. It makes you forget it in the instant it passes, just to then pound on the same spot again. As poetry, as the knot of knots, the text in the piece is written to have no center or periphery, to be a folded map on which what happens, happens, but it makes us all, the characters and the caller, the audience to whom the monologue is delivered at the end of an answering machine, which even turns on itself, too; it makes us all delivered to a freak sense of destiny. It is vandalism. Terribly superficial story telling. She plays with him, or she seems to play with him, because her intentions are so pure, she truly follows them, there is no hidden agenda at all. Feels like I'm not ever gentle enough. Experiencing such intensity, he simply expects a hidden motivation. His sense of inferiority is standing in his way. Knowing, but not knowing, that which standing up opens you up to, which is experience, and risking, daring to experience experience; because what do I do the whole time – I await, I anticipate fearfully, a change, a movement, imminent disaster that never comes, against which I still have to move – it's lacking. But losing the lack, both he and I wonder, is what she did.
===|
Storytelling, just like anything else, depends on luck. It is no exception, it is a gamble. I try filling the gamble with love. The imperative of stand up! is transformed into its infinitive every time to stand up approaches yet again. I agonize over the call for a counter hegemony, the faint echo of political activism, when writing it, when uttering it. Always giving more. This is the writing of the lift; the infinitive which is Saying in its execution. The rupture a fall provides gets inscribed very literally as a wound on the body, turns into a scar, engraving, ornament. All of it represents the Drawing of a fall; as she says.
In times of war, ruptures become more apparent. War seems to be a slip in the universe, the world slips and it gets wounded. Even my little private fall in a country that is still very much whole on its own territory, I cannot perceive it outside of war any longer. Then the becoming nurse is as immanent as water in water. It is a way of staying out of formalized movements, antagonisms – of associating but remaining infinitive, other. The anguish needed to heal and not to repair, it grows alongside care, both most urgently at the limits of being and only attained in encounters, attempting the intimacy of speaking out and listening, of touch. Being confidantes, accomplices, as a mode of gathering, it makes it possible to associate and act agonistically. It doesn‘t overlook the impossibility of communion.
What stands up remains valid after analysis. The call to stand up is just a preparation to escape this analysis which affirms its object into its own sphere, which annexes, often in the shape of the academic or commercial. The delusion that something has been checked and is therefore safe belongs into the elegant sandbox of the play that doesn't become, turn into, but owns. There is no salvation.
The relationship between the microphone and my mouth, it is sealed by the waves, and the person on the other end and me, we are physically connected by all the transformed energy of waves and sparks and waves. Then to think of audible silence makes me so happy. Because it contains the potential of these connections while being nothing, being the only reality I can truly connect with, while my speaking comes from pain. I have something to say. To stand the words, to stand the words, truly.
The sound filters of the system in the answering machine take the sound of my recorded voice apart. The answering machine's settings are designed for high efficiency and excellence in phone conferences of professional businesses, yet they distort the voice so absolutely that the piece undoes itself and whatever of that physical connection to my voice remains, in its endlessly repeating document, is a remain without provenance, a souvenir maybe, a corpse. The contact between us is a story. While supposedly a marked tag turns the exhibition space dirty – is a sign of vandalism, the signature in vandalism, the territorial claim of the streets, and surely here only a meagre substitute representation of the graffiti artist scratching the city, which recalls dirt into the show – when finally the beep sounds and the caller can answer, it is the turn of a mirror – it transgresses, it ruptures, it pulls back into being the caller who tried to listen to this mutilated chain of signifiers for so long they forgot they were on the phone themselves.
]
---
Zurück zu [[//Stand Up//->Stand UpDE]].
---
[
|===
[[//Margaret Digby, The Wall (1925)//->WallDE]], 2022
[[//Token No. 1//->WallDE]], 2021
[[//Half an Hour Under the Seventh Seal//->SealDE]], 2021
[[//Durch die Bordüre//->BordureDE]], 2021
[[//Colophon//->Colophon1DE]], 2021
[[//Konvoi spezial//->KonvoiDE]], 2020
[[//Fluxus-Gerüchte//->fluxus1DE]], Workshop, 2020
[[//Plunkett table//->PlunkettDE]], 2020
[[//Finders keepers//->findersDE]], 2020
[[//Acting on resigned fates//->PerformanceDE]], 2019
[[//※//->※DE]], 2019
[[//Carry on windows//->Carry on windowsDE]], Women on Aeroplanes, 2019
[[//Remote Support//->Remote SupportDE]], Whose Museum, 2019
[[//Piraterie in Somalia//->Piraterie in SomaliaDE]], 2018
[[//Burrow Bay Moon//->Burrow Bay MoonDE]], 2018
[[//tree paints tree//->tree paints treeDE]], 2017
[[//Works that don't exist//->fluxus2DE]], Workshop, 2017
[[//Stickler's Digest//->Sticklers2DE]] mit <a href="http://www.kitsumcheng.com/" target="_blank">Cheng Kitsum</a>, 2016
[[//Stand Up//->Stand UpDE]], 2016
[[//burning good phones (into designations)//->burning good phonesDE]], 2016
[[//Poems of the Cold//->Poems of the ColdDE]], 2015
[[//Grund Schacht//->Grund SchachtDE]], 2014
[[//Weiße Nacht//->Weiße NachtDE]], 2013
[[//Gothenburg Cultural Guided Tours//->GuideDE]] mit <a href="https://marfjell.wordpress.com" target="_blank"> Mar Fjell</a>, 2012
===|
[[Neuigkeiten->NewsDE]]
[[Textsammlung->BodiesDE]]
[[CV->CVDE]]
(link-reveal: "Kontakt")[ via mail@theresakampmeier.de]
[[[Start->StartDE]]]<start|
]
---
Work in progress. Made with <a href="https://twinery.org" target="_blank">Twine</a>. Last updated June 2022.
---
[
|===
$space[//Gothenburg Cultural Guided Tours//]
Performance von <a href="https://marfjell.wordpress.com" target="_blank"> Mar Fjell</a> und Theresa Kampmeier
Im Nordstan Einkaufszentrum in Göteborg, Schweden
Mit Buchung, ca 30 Minuten, auf English
2012
A Report From The Nordstan Shopping Mall:
Wearing our uniforms with formal name tags, showing one capital letter indicating the guide's first name cut off by a dot: M.Fjell and T.Kampmeier. We await the group by one of the side entrances of Nordstan, very close to its middle axis. Welcoming them, we make it very clear that the working environment of the place shall not be disturbed by our tour, and thus they are asked to pose questions later. We would like our visitors to behave as casually as possible. The group ponderously crosses the shopping centre. We stay silent until, disgorged on the other side, we are entering the customs office entrance into a hallway. Reaching the lower floor in small groups due to the size of the elevators, we wait downstairs for our visitors to arrive in the same kind of hallway as upstairs. In between two fire protection doors, we point out once more that it will be very important to be quiet now. Then the basement starts, a corridor, long, long, with identical doors to all sides, and in neon light there are young people emptying boxes into storages, they greet us amicably. Again, we traverse the centre, this time only across its long side.
Briefly, M.Fjell informs the group on a documentary series broadcasted on Swedish TV in 2012 which showed people spending time at Nordstan without participating in the shopping. Then, we ask our group to line up in front of the door at the end of the corridor and peek through the keyhole behind which busy people are working, and where we of course would not like to disturb if we entered. When everybody has taken their turn in catching a glimpse, we enter a door on the side into a staircase all covered in marble stones, up, up, until we arrive in a glass-paned foyer. Pointing at the front desk lady behind the glass, T. Kampmeier explains that, just now, we passed all the backdoors of the stores.
We abandon the building for the outside. On the roof of the shopping centre, we find ourselves in an exact replica of the old road network below. One walks in between high office buildings through a park; we pass a metal gate onto the main axis, and from there we stroll towards the parking garage on the short backside of the shopping centre. Very slowly, the group takes its time to look around. Arriving in the vestibule of the parking garage, we indicate a small elevator by the side, open its doors in order to show it to the group, and point out how it is very special for two reasons. Firstly, this elevator only goes up (as it says on a brass plaque next to it). Secondly, the elevator stems from Nordstan's early years and thus is still covered in chocolate wrapping paper thought of as ornamental decoration, the aluminum nowadays not used on foods anymore, and its shining nicely. The group jumps at the chance to go in while we are holding the door, and slide their fingertips over the inner lining. M.Fjell goes down the hallway and exits onto a slim passway along the parking deck's side to expect the participants once they are finished. From where they are waiting, one can look down into the backstreet where we met in the beginning, and the building on the opposite side of the street consists of open-plan offices into which we get perfect insight. M.Fjell tells the storyline of a film premiering a year ago in this place. It was called 'Challenge Your Leader', as one can also read on a poster hanging across the street in big, cloud-shaped letters. Then they announce that next we will walk on the smallest pavement in Gothenburg, meaning that the participants are asked to walk carefully one after another. After crossing the parking lot, we take them up a coil for the cars on the inside slope. Through the fencing of the pavement participants can look all the way down into the bottom floor. Arriving on the top floor of the garage, standing in the middle of a deserted parking lot, we rest for a minute before M.Fjell and T.Kampmeier exclaim Now, we are on top of the world and gaze up towards the sky while inhaling deeply. The group is left there after they got a chance to pose their questions, and the guided tour is over.
<img src="images/nordstan4.jpg" alt="View of the guides in the basement">
<img src="images/nordstan8.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan7.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
===|
<img src="images/nordstan1_web.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan14.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan2_web.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan13.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan12.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan11.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan10.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan9.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan3.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan6.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
<img src="images/nordstan5.jpg" alt="View of a shopping mall in Sweden">
]
---
Im Jahr darauf entwickelte ich meine erste räumliche Installation im öffentlichen Raum, [[//Weiße Nacht//->Weiße2DE]].
---
[
==>
[[Index->IndexDE]]]
[
|===
$space[//Weiße Nacht//]
Fiberglaswellplatten, Stahl, Stahlseil, Dachpappe und ein <a href="https://soundcloud.com/tkampmeier/entwurf" target="_blank">Audio loop</a>
Installation im <a href="http://www.lichthaus-arnsberg.de/theresa-kampmeier">Lichthaus Arnsberg</a>
2013
Das Lichthaus, an der Stelle des im Zweiten Weltkrieg zerbombten Klosterflügels und üblicherweise bei den Ausstellungen permanent geschlossenes Haus, wurde mit der Installation durchgehbar. An eine Nissenhütte erinnernd lag der konische Wellplattentunnel im Lichthaus. In der Tonspur hörte man von Fern einen Chor aus einer summenden Stimme und Stadtgeräuschen.
===|
<img src="images/weissenacht_web.jpg">
]
---
<img src="images/winkel_web.jpg" alt="Poster of the exhibition">
---
Das erste [[Künstlerbuch->Grund2DE]] im folgenden Jahr war eine ähnliche, aber dieses Mal textbasierte Investigation von architektonischen Elementen und ihrer sozialen Kapazität und Lokalisierung.
---
[
==>
[[Index->IndexDE]]]
[
|===
$space[//Grund Schacht//]
Grafik und handschriftlicher Text in Laserkopie auf Transparentpapier, handgebunden mit Umschlag, deutschsprachig, 29x21cm, 40 Seiten
Künstlerbuch
2014
Der Text kann <a href="images/Theresa Kampmeier - Grund Schacht.pdf" target="_blank">hier</a> heruntergeladen werden.
===|
<img src="images/heft.jpg">
]
---
<img src="images/Schacht_web.jpg">
---
Das zweite Künstlerbuch [[//Poems of the Cold//->Poems2DE]] suchte nach einem Weg darin Sinn zu finden, Touristin zu sein und noch nichts von einem Ort zu wissen. Dabei entstanden fiktive Kunstinterventionen in einem chinesischen Hotspot für einheimische Reisen und das Buch wurde in die Souvenirangebote von StrassenverkäuferInnen vor Ort aufgenommen.
---
[
==>
[[Index->IndexDE]]]
[
|===
$space[//Poems of the Cold//]
Karton mit Farbpostkarten und Taschenbuch im Offsetdruck, Text auf Englisch und in chinesischer Übersetzung, 15x10cm, 29 Postkarten, 68 Seiten, Auflage von 280
Buch-Objekt
2015
Das Künstlerbuch //Poems of the Cold// war ein Weg, darin Sinn zu finden, Touristin zu sein und noch nichts von einem Ort zu wissen. Dabei entstanden fiktive Kunstinterventionen in einem chinesischen Hotspot für einheimische Reisen und das Buch wurde in die Souvenirangebote von StrassenverkäuferInnen vor Ort aufgenommen.
Ein vollständiges PDF der //Poems of the Cold//<a href="images/Poems of the Cold - Theresa Kampmeier.pdf" target="_blank">hier</a>.
===|
<img src="images/box-cover.jpg" alt="poems">
Oben: Das Objekt.
Unten: Eine der Postkarten.
]
---
<img src="images/postcards3.jpg" alt="postcard">
---
Mit diesem [[Hörspiel->burning2DE]] fing ich an, mit Ton zu arbeiten.
---
[
==>
[[Index->IndexDE]]]
[
|===
$space[//burning good phones (into designations)//]
Hörspiel, etwa 11 Minuten, englischsprachig
2016
Der griechische Begriff phone / φωνή bezeichnet das kleinste Tonsegment von Sprachlauten.
In der ersten Hälfte des Hörspiels, das auf einer weiten, sandigen Ebene unter nächtlichem Sternenhimmel spielt, zeichnen die beiden Protagonistinnen ein Bild. Sie erzählen sich von der Szene, die sie aufzeichnen. In der zweiten Hälfte enthaftet sich die Erzählstimme der Fiktion der Geschichte und spricht skriptlos die Aufname – oder weiterhin sich selbst – an, spricht geradezu ihr Denken aus, bevor sie es schon weiß.
===|
<iframe width="100%" height="300" scrolling="no" frameborder="no" allow="autoplay" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/258276229&color=%23a8a294&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false&show_teaser=true&visual=true"></iframe>
]
---
2016 entwarf ich die Arbeit [[//Stand Up//->Stand2DE]], die vom Telefon aus angerufen werden kann.
---
[
==>
[[Index->IndexDE]]]
[
|===
$space[//Stand Up//]
Schriftzug mit Marker, digitaler Anrufbeantworter, Audio, 5 Minuten
Audioinstallation
2016
Parallel zur Arbeit an //Stand Up// schrieb ich auch das englischsprachige Denkstück [[//On Standing Up//->On Standing Up2DE]].
Bild: //Stand Up// im MMK Zollamt, Frankfurt am Main, 2016.
===|
<img src="images/B_X9A9840kweb.jpg" alt="phone number">
]
---
for English call 030 9210 9148
für Deutsch wählen Sie 030 2000 5191
---
Nach einer Künstlerresidenz in Shanghai 2017 entstand ein Prosagedicht, das vom Goethe-Institut und am Art Space 2018 in Shanghai als [[//Burrow Bay Moon//->Burrow2DE]] veröffentlicht wurde.
Während wir die Ausstellung im MMK vorbereiteten, begonnen Kitsum Cheng und ich eine Kollaboration, deren Resultat Besuchende der Ausstellung in die Hand nehmen konnten, das [[//Stickler's Digest//->Sticklers1DE]].
---
[
==>
[[Index->IndexDE]]]
$space[//树画树 / Baum zeichnet Baum//]
Französische Platanen in Shanghai, Fenster, Feinstaub
Fotografie
2017
---
<img src="images/baumspuren.png">
---
Das Radiostück [[//Piraterie in Somalia//->Piraterie2DE]] entstand Ende 2018.
---
[
==>
[[Index->IndexDE]]]
[
|===
$space[//Burrow Bay Moon//]
Taschenbuch, Offsetdruck, Text auf Englisch und in chinesischer Übersetzung, 146x96 mm, 60 Seiten, Auflage von 300
Herausgegeben von am Art Space und Goethe-Institut Shanghai
Prosagedicht
2018
Zentrale Motive des Texts sind die der Freundschaft, der Organisation von Wissen, dem „irdenen Bauch“ einer Stadt, der sozialen Seite von Kunst, Grenzgebieten, Kontextualisierung, Beschwörung, Trauer und Sehnsucht.
===|
Ein PDF des gesamten [[Buches->Bodies2DE]].
Was folgt ist ein Ausschnitt.
]
---
//What is expendable. It’s been pouring rain. Walking through generous wall-framed streets under a mint-coloured umbrella at dusk, peaceful, beautiful, wet, and blue. In the archive you gave me, I enter little worlds. Collected notes of nearly twenty years of observing and writing. Taking all leave from work, I want to dwell there.
What the plane trees and moving spotlights from passing cars, hustling legs, and wet hemlines make me think of: I will take us for a walk. We never knew when to stop walking, walk was the basic pattern of our lives at a time when we were also travelling across each other’s body in a frenzy; walking that was thinking, thinking that was speaking, and writing that was walking. Walking your story in the rain today. Am I at your will?//
Writing from the city’s negative below. Infrastructure. Inside is where air is, outside mud and stuff. What carries over to the inside. While, on the surface, moving is informed by landscape, these tunnels do not have a landscape, there is no moving in between spaces, outlined spaces are all there is. In this negative, there is no standing on the edge and knowing that you are able to jump. Because that fear cannot exist in city tunnels, differently from mining shafts and therefore fundamentally different from all extractive sites, because of that, life down here is truly earthen. No windows. This is where you all will come to take shelter one day the way communities did in the mountains forever. Think of this planet congested by death and wealth, and consider the inelegance of going earthen, not a cure, not healing, but the condition for coping with collective congestion. I am writing from here to digest, though I know most people have hardly participated in the congesting ourselves. On city streets only lonely corpses stay unmoving, you said, and now I see that it’s because living minds on one-way tracks cannot care enough. These tunnels are where you wrote yourself.
Once you wrote a passionate letter to a man you didn’t know well at the time. After seeing a dead cat’s corpse collapsed on the pavement, that’s what you did. During previous days, in front of your house, its body had been shuffled here and there, some passersby having tried to get rid of it, or return what seemed like dignity to the dead, halfheartedly, so that it kept proving its existence. Two little paws sticking out of a folded billboard poster at the foot of a garbage can. A barren fox-red corpse on top of the same can was defying gravity rigorously. Cat back wrapped in poster unsuccessfully sticking out of dumpster. Corpse naturalised as extension of garbage can. You were swaying while you told me about your letter.
And secretly I sway between poles of how I can relate to you now. This project has an outrageous scale, this is your and my mass culture, out of touch with our social body, but a celestial body to our little physical lives. I am just mediating what you handed me, but the responsibility for the form the mediation takes makes me desperate. Knowledge is power, conjures the library you used to go to by embedding this statement in walls and carpets in cardinal languages, what kind of power. During this walk I want to engrave the tunnel walls to put a liquid spell on us in turn.
Seeing him that night in the half-empty lecture hall left you wretched. The skin under your clothes seemed to be burning up against cold fingertips. They had been steady carrying up bottles of water to the fourth floor but trembling throwing an empty one out. His sight left you exposed and his attendance drained you. He had been walking around all day, observant over long stretches of time, and at times carried away on transformative excesses of understanding. Then, moving away from mere understanding, following a hint the world didn’t know it had given. A sensitive inexplicable hunch. He walked into the room in the same way. Not exactly confident. Glaring neon-lights covered where he sat down, still taking in the spectacle of an architecture in a shape you couldn’t survey, designed to be suggestive, not informative, oh so powerful. Speakers were preparing to start in the front and you didn’t know which side to take. You had to close your eyes in a corner and let the sensation of hearing his breath across the room take over.
Taking thinking for a walk at your will, I discover more and more tunnels, all constructed by a necessity of the city which diverts from what landscape dictates, mostly in order to go between home and job. Even in your messy city this structure of need exists. Apart from that, digging is seldomly done for leisure, so in here I am not seduced, I am urged. A responsible maze directing me strictly. Tunnels underlie flection, and the grammar of the burrow is unfulfilling, you wanted me to experience lust, lust, I read now, is connected to austerity. I really hate that. Please play with me in the afterlife. In your city I am always protected by the concrete which has been poured into all gaps, as teeth are filled to keep dirt from going underground. Where sky could touch you. I have no need for dexterities when thinking of you in here. Territories deteriorate, because I want to start digging down after digging up to make lunar channels, avoiding to locate myself in relation to topography. Your gift is choking me.
Dreary bleakness, you have gone. This is new moon, still looming, and I find that getting closer to you in the darkness is keeping sadness at bay.
---
Das Radiostück [[//Piraterie in Somalia//->Piraterie2DE]] entstand Ende 2018.
---
[
==>
[[Index->IndexDE]]]
[
|===
$space[//Piraterie in Somalia//]
20 Minuten, deutschsprachig, Geräusche, gefundene Audiospuren
Podcast
2018
Zwischen 2005 und 2011 intensivierten sich Angriffe auf Handelsschiffe im Golf von Aden, einer international bedeutsamen Handelsstrasse (die EU betrifft 80% des hierdurch transportierten Handels) zwischen Somalia und dem Jemen, die in der Regel zu Lösegeldforderungen führten. Die Angriffe wurden von der somalischen Küste aus geführt. Militärische Operationen und Patrouillen gegen Piraterie wurden von der UN, der Afrikanischen Union (AU), der EU und anderen Zusammenschlüssen nationalstaatlicher Streitmächte ausgeführt. Für die EU lag darin die Möglichkeit, erstmals eine eigenständige militärische Operation ohne die NATO umzusetzen („Operation Atalante“). Ab 2013 verringerten sich die Angriffe schnell und sind seitdem kaum mehr aufgetreten. Netzwerke der Piraterie bestehen dennoch weiter.
Spätestens seit 2008 sind „Piraten in Somalia“ ein großes Thema in den europäischen Medien. Das Bild des somalischen Piraten hat sich in den europäischen und nordamerikanischen Medien als Platzhalter für einen ganzen Diskurs um die Region Somalia etabliert. Die Podcast-Episode handelt von diesem Mediendiskurs und der Konstruktion einer populären europäischen Vorstellung.
===|
<iframe width="100%" height="300" scrolling="no" frameborder="no" allow="autoplay" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/544534203&color=%23a8a294&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false&show_teaser=true&visual=true"></iframe>
]
---
Es folgt der [[//Remote Support//->Remote2DE]], den ich 2019 für das Whose Museum Kollektiv ins Leben gerufen habe, wo alles Bürokratische ornamental wird, und wo alles Weggeworfene Wert gewinnt, aber wo nichts eindeutig ist außer der Schenkung.
---
[
==>
[[Index->IndexDE]]]
[
|===
$space[//Remote Support at Whose Museum//]
Partizipativer Prozess mithilfe von Formularen, Emails, Anhängen, Postsendungen, Anweisungen; Material/Dimensionen fallspezifisch
Whose Museum
seit 2019
Das Whose Museum Kollektiv wurde 2008 in Kanada von einer tourenden Band gegründet. Prämisse des Künstlerinnenmuseums ist, dass jegliche Schenkung in die Sammlung aufgenommen wird. Seitdem ist das Projekt weit gereist und gewachsen. Ich bin seit 2012 dabei. Oft nutzen wir pseudo-bürokratische Strukturen für unsere Interaktionen. Seit 2019 residiert das Malmö Kapitel von Whose Museum in einem Gallerieraum, wo wir mit eingeladenen KünstlerInnen und der Sammlung arbeiten.
===|
Der //Remote Support// kann mithilfe eines Formulars kontaktiert werden, um zu einer Frage oder einem Problem Unterstützung zu bekommen. Eine der folgenden Kategorien ist dafür auszuwählen: Lob, Kritik, Herkunft, Erklärung, Verwirrung, Konzept, Rat, trivia oder Ritual. Die Antwort erfolgt innerhalb von einer Woche in Form einer Email oder Postsendung. Das entstehende Material, nicht unbedingt stringente Frage/Antwort-Paare, geht in die Datenbank von Whose Museum ein.
Formulare sind verfügbar bei Whose Museum, Kristianstadsgatan 16, Malmö oder <a href="images/remote.pdf" target="_blank">hier</a> (EN).
]
---
<img src="images/remote-1.jpg">
---
Während der //Remote Support// so entworfen ist, dass er jederzeit von überall genutzt werden kann, war die Installation [[//Carry on windows//->Carry2DE]] gänzlich in situ.
---
[
==>
[[Index->IndexDE]]]
[
|===
$space[//Carry on windows//]
Schnitte in weißer Fensterfolie, Buttermilch, Pigmente (Ocker, Phtalogrün, Preussisch Blau), Fotografie, Acetondrucke auf Servietten örtlicher Geschäfte, Spiegelfolie
In situ, Allerheiligenstrasse, Frankfurt am Main
2019
Beitrag zur Ausstellung Women on Aeroplanes: Stopover (06.06. - 30.06.2019) kuratiert von Marie-Hélène Gutberlet und Annett Busch. Mehr Informationen zum Gesamtprojekt auf <a href="http://woa.kein.org" target="_blank">woa.kein.org</a>.
Weitere Werke in der Ausstellung waren:
<a href="http://www.temitayo.com" target="_blank">Temitayo Ogunbiyi,</a> <i>A Line</i>, 2019
<a href="http://fatoumatadiabate.com" target="_blank">Fatoumata Diabaté,</a> <i>Le jardin de l’AFMM à Montreuil</i>, 2006 (The garden of the Malian Women’s Association in Montreuil)and <i>La cour du foyer Bara</i>, 2005 (The court yard of the Bara hostel)
<a href="http://www.rahimagambo.com" target="_blank">Rahima Gambo,</a> <i>A Walk</i>, 2018-2019
They were accompanied by the Women on Aeroplanes library, four issues of the Women on Aeroplanes Inflight Magazine, Women on Aeroplanes posters, chairs, benches, and a table, black fabric screens to pop into the windows, a projector, an assembly of plants that came our way while setting up the show, the exhibition map and gathering program, as well as a quote by Kojo Laing cut out from a semi-transparent black mirror foil, and all that which happened impromptu at the gathering.
<img src="images/woa12.png" alt=""><br>
Morgens schleicht sich das Sonnenlicht durch die Ausschnitte, um den Raum in der galaktischen Anordnung der Körper an der Sonne zu verankern. Wie eine Pflanze reagiert der rote Boden der ehemaligen Tankstelle mit grüner Pigmentierung auf das Licht. Wie eine Fotografie wird ein Abbild belichtet und entwickelt. Bewegte Körper hinter den Fenstern gewinnen an filmischer Qualität; ihre Bewegung dirigiert das Auge auf und ab. Hin und wieder schießt dafür auch ein Blick in den Raum. Auf dem Pfeiler davor ein Bild aus Rahima Gambo's Serie <i>A Walk</i>.
<img src="images/woa.png" alt=""><br>
Blick auf den Ausstellungsraum von der anderen Strassenseite, Ecke Allerheiligentor/Lange Strasse.
<img src="images/woa7.png" alt=""><br>
In der Ecke weit hinter uns liegt Fatoumata Diabatés Arbeit. Tisch, Stühle und Bänke sind aufgestellt für diejenigen, die etwas verweilen wollen. Durch die Schnitte in der Folie fallen Linien aus Licht in den Raum. Die beiden grünpigmentierten Linien zeichnen die zwei diagonalen Raumachsen zwischen den Werken der Ausstellung nach. Das Zickzack aus Licht wird von den Schatten der Winkel unterbrochen. Ungleich der grünen Spuren treffen sie sich nicht, erinnern an eine Route voller Zwischenstopps.
<img src="images/woa13.png" alt=""><br>
Die zwei dreieckigen Streifen grober Pigmentfarbe, Ocker unten rechts und Blau oben links, rahmen und kippen die Fensterfront. Farbe und Positionierung assoziieren mit <a href="https://www.theshowroom.org/exhibitions/women-on-aeroplanes" target="_blank">Pamela Phatsimo Sunstrums Fresko auf der Fassade des Londoner Showrooms</a> beim letzten Halt der Women on Aeroplanes, die wiederum auf Bessie Heads poetische Exillandschaft in Botswana reflektierte.
<img src="images/woa5.png" alt=""><br>
Ansicht einer Bank (Marie-Hélène Gutberlet, Janusch Ertler und Patrick Keaveney) und Teil der <i>Carry on windows</i> Installation. Die Fotografie von 2014 zeigt das nächtliche Hotel Luxor. Das Bild betrachtend und dann leicht zur Seite lehnend, ist durch den Schlitz in der Fensterfolie das tatsächlich Hotel gegenüber gesehen werden. Im Foto wird das Hotelschild in der Fensterfläche reflektiert und ein Meer an Pflanzen ist dahinter hell erleuchtet. Während der Ausstellung war das Hotel aufgrung von Renovierungen geschlossen.
===|
<img src="images/woa15.png" alt="">
<img src="images/woa2.png" alt="">
Die Servietten verbinden buchstäbliche Abdrücke früherer Projektinhalte mit dem konkreten Ort und unseren wiederkehrenden Bedürfnissen als Teilnehmende des Zwischenstopps.
Drucke von links nach rechts:
Serviette vom EmirET Grill auf der Allerheiligenstrasse, Abdruck von "Pamela Phatsimo Sunstrum, Exalt B.H. 2018. Painted mural on the exterior of The Showroom. Photo: Daniel Brooke" mit Bild, von der The Showroom-Webseite.
Serviette aus TOR, Abdrücke von Temitayo Ogunbiyi "You will find peace and play among palm trees, 2018, pencil on paper, 18 x 24 inches" aus dem Inflight Magazine #2, S.19, der Seitennummer 18 und einer schematischen Zeichnung des Innenohrs.
Serviette vom EmirET, Abdruck aus Inflight Magazine #1, S.14: "Samia Lakhdari, Zohra Drif, Djamila Bouhired and Hassiba Ben Bouali, the bomb planters in the Battle of Algiers" mit Bild.
Serviette aus TOR, Abdrücke der Kollage von Marie-Hélène Gutberlet im Inflight Magazine #1, S.10.
Aus Berlin mitgebrachte Serviette, Abdrücke eines Stills aus Rahima Gambos kollaborativer Videoarbeit Tatsuniya (2017-ongoing), Inflight Magazine #1, S.30-31.
Serviette von einem Samosa-Imbiss auf der Münchenerstrasse, Abdrücke aus Inflight Magazine #1, S.25 (mit Seitennummer), Teile von Kodwo Eshun "Specific Grammars of Intricate Displacement".
Serviette aus TOR, Abdrücke einer weiteren schmatischen Innenohr-Zeichnung und des Worts "FEMMES", wie es von Marie-Hélène Gutberlet in einer Bildstrecke von Kategorisierungen auf Bibliotheksregalen festgehalten wurde.
Serviette aus Berlin, Abdruck aus Inflight Magazine #3, S.23 (mit Seitennummer), eines Gesprächs zwischen Pamela Phatsimo Sunstrum und Thenjiwe Niki Nkosi: "What has been so important about sharing a studio space is that anybody who comes in necessarily has to meet with, or deal with, or see both of us. I think that’s radical. Straight sharing sometimes implies that some- thing becomes less because you’ve divided it. Whereas radical sharing means that the thing becomes more because you are equally nourished by it. Rather than being about a portioning out of what’s available, it’s more of a pooling and then augmenting of what’s available. (261—62)".
Serviette vom EmirET, Abdrücke aus einem Guardian Artikel von Gordon Bowker, 2007: "As this information was on Orwell's 1927 passport it can be presumed he acquired the tattoos in Burma. He was never a properly "correct" member of the Imperial class - hobnobbing with Buddhist priests, Rangoon prostitutes and British drop-outs. As Orwell himself noted, rebellious Burmese tribesmen thought tattoos gave magic protection from British bullets, and, as he himself grew more rebellious, perhaps he felt in need of his own protection against official hostility. The tattoos were probably a sign to members of the British establishment in Burma that he was not "one of them" - an attitude he sustained throughout his writing career. That attitude, highly fruitful for his writing, was also what made him a suspect to the intelligence authorities.", aus dem Inflight Magazine #4, S.4-5, Theresa Kampmeier "pretending to keep them in the air", "#4 Stopover", und S.25, Überschrift eines BBC Radioskripts von Venu Chitale, "How to make do without meat".
<img src="images/woa0.png" alt="Zitat von Kojo Laing 1988">
Ansicht des Eingangsbereichs des Ausstellungsraums, wo Kojo Laing aus seinem Roman <i>Woman of the Aeroplanes</i> von 1988 zitiert wird:
"We shall unregulate you immediately if you don't jump out of here with your cruel traxcavator"
]
---
[
=><=
<i>shifting landmarks</i>
(...)
this is touch and go
text, safe representation is akin to a guy on the couch who controls the world from his TV
text, progressive writing moves with a woman in flight
ongoing ongoing
this is the everyday
holding up this building
turn the doomed fuel station
into a landing strip
a touch-down beacon
touch and move
humming along and echoing back
we collect losts and interrogate founds
what is in your carrier bag today my dear
what are we filling our pockets with stories for
what if a critter jumps down from the net
midflight
an invitation to caress
a personal story
skip skip skip
touch ground unground
touch the ground
kiss it
killed it
there is some space in my luggage for your story
are we going the same way
then bring it in there
a touch-over
a plane in reverse
crosses borders as easily as the one that just goes up and ahead
go ahead
even if the distance crossed is irreversible
the plane can flow back to the same point twice
or thrice she can
have you been
have i been where
up in the light
(...)
Auszug aus einem Gedicht in Women on Aeroplanes Inflight Magazine #4, 2019
]
---
Später in 2019 entstand eine Arbeit, die über neun Webseiten verteilt war: [[//※//->x2DE]].
---
[
==>
[[Index->IndexDE]]]
[
|===
//※//
Kurzgeschichte verteilt über neun Kommentare auf diversen Webseiten, neun QR Codes, Laserdruck auf Transparentpapier, Tonschleife, etwa 4 Minuten, auf Englisch
Multimedia
2019
Wird als Objekt mit Soundarbeit gezeigt.
Das Werk //※// hat mit jungen Frauen und alten Männern zu tun, mit der Zirkularität von Erzählung, dem unterbrechenden Moment der glücklichen Begebenheit (oder ihres Ausbleibens) und der Natur der Referenz – die eine Bewegung hin zu etwas, aber nie ein Inhalt selbst ist. Durch das Soundpiece wird die zirkulär geschriebene Kurzgeschichte im Ausstellungsraum fortdauernd ‘im Kreis’ vorgelesen.
Die gesammelten Inhalte (und das Erscheinungsbild) der Webseiten brechen in die vermeintliche Geschlossenheit der Kurzgeschichte ein, rahmen sie und drehen das übliche Verhältnis von Inhalt und Kommentar um.
Entworfen für LOW TEXT #6: Footnotes (27.11.2019 im Flutgraben Berlin).
<a href="https://rollthedice.online/en/cdice/nine-sided-dice" target="_blank"><img src="images/web1.png" alt="qr-code"></a>
<a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/review/twains-aquarium-club" target="_blank"><img src="images/web2.png" alt="qr-code"></a>
<a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/542406.Must_We_Burn_Sade_" target="_blank"><img src="images/web3.png" alt="qr-code"></a>
<a href="http://www.constantinaevripidou.com/girls-just-wanna-have-fun/" target="_blank"><img src="images/web4.png" alt="qr-code"></a>
===|
<a href="https://lithub.com/what-to-know-about-self-managed-abortion-care/" target="_blank"><img src="images/web5.png" alt="qr-code"></a>
<a href="https://www.discogs.com/de/Vladimir-Nabokov-Lolita-And-Poems-Read-By-Vladimir-Nabokov/master/1425096#" target="_blank"><img src="images/web6.png" alt="qr-code"></a>
<a href="https://soundcloud.com/ignatzhoch/merry-clayton" target="_blank"><img src="images/web7.png" alt="qr-code"></a>
<a href="https://anreapatchwork.blogspot.com/2016/12/shelley-jackson-patchwork-girl.html" target="_blank"><img src="images/web8.png" alt="qr-code"></a>
<a href="https://youtu.be/RbgoHby1jmo?t=582" target="_blank"><img src="images/web9.png" alt="qr-code"></a>
]
---
Seit 2019 arbeite ich mir der Performance [[//Acting on resigned fates//->Performance2DE]]. Sie säht das Material für ein späteres, öffentliches Stück.
---
[
==>
[[Index->IndexDE]]]
[
|===
$space[//Acting on resigned fates//]
Etwa 30 Minuten aufgeführt von der Künstlerin
Performance im privaten Raum
seit 2019
Eine Performance, die auf Buchung über meine Website hin ausschließlich privat gezeigt wird. Inhaltlich schlägt Acting on resigned fates eine Brücke zwischen Steuerrecht, Erotik und Kunstgeschichte.
[<a href="mailto: mail@theresakampmeier.de">Hier</a>] unter Angabe von Datum und Vorführort buchen.
Bild: Ausschnitte aus der „Apokalypse von Angers“, Wandteppich, Frankreich, 14. Jahrhundert
===|
<img src="images/anger.png">
]
---
Später entstand aus dieser Auseinandersetzung die verstreute Skulptur [[//Finders keepers//->Finders2DE]].
Meine jüngste Arbeit ist die Ausstellung [[//Konvoi spezial//->Konvoi2DE]]
---
[
|===
$space[//Imaginary civic space – introducing works that don’t exist to people who are not looking for art//]
Viertägiger Workshop in Shanghai mit zehn Teilnehmenden
2017
Auszug aus dem Bericht:
Lingering around the neighborhood helped us understand localized sets of social and material interactions. We each chose one place to investigate in particular: a bus stop, an intersection, a sculpture park, a fuel station, a parking area, a 7/11-type of shop, a row of small restaurants, a bend in the street, a sitting area in front of a library, a parking lot beneath a highway, a public toilet. Not only the weather, the vantage point, the people present, but also the current mood changed our perception of a place. The more time we spent there, the more clearly we could share it with the group. We didn’t try to deduce a local definition of public, or even civic, space, but loosely followed the idea that public space doesn’t exist in the abstract, but is manifold and situated.
Mapping findings and associations on large posters, we started creating quick imaginary scenarios akin to Fluxus scores. Everybody worked on everybody’s sketches. By the second day, we started writing whole imaginary events, confined by the spatial limits of a sticky note only. We found ways of telling those stories on site by the most simple means and with the materials already in place. A note on the wall of a phone booth or a short story the shopkeeper tells her customers were thus the produced works, but they remain undocumented and their reception is unknown. This was not the exclusive work of qualified artists and established technique, but local practice.
===|
<img src="images/exist.png">
]
---
In der Zwischenzeit ist dieses Format [[neukonfiguriert->fluxus1DE]] worden.
---
==>
[[[Index->IndexDE]]]<index|
//pretending to keep them in the air//
accident assassinate accurate acrid accord accede pee
access assess assets assembly
caress empress carcass
delay debris decay daily displace
factor factory fabricate agent
imitation indentation invitation implication limination
pistol pilots polite politics polish posit post pivot body
plainly planely painly apparently soundly
metafiction mate-fiction malfunction misunderstanding
transmission mission intermission missive inference transit
unresolved unburied undead alive
Printed in Women on Aeroplanes Inflight Magazine #4, 2019
---
<a href="images/Kampmeier Hintergrund und Quellen Somalia.pdf" target="_blank"><i>Piraterie in Somalia,</i></a> 2018 (DE)
<a href="images/Kampmeier On learning from the people.pdf" target="_blank"><i>On "learning from the people",</i></a> 2018 (EN)
<a href="images/Theresa Kampmeier - BURROW BAY MOON.pdf" target="_blank"><i>BURROW BAY MOON,</i></a> 2018 (EN)
<a href="images/Kampmeier & Cheng - Stickler's Digest.pdf" target="_blank"><i>Stickler's Digest,</i></a> 2016<br>Kollaboration mit Cheng Kitsum (EN)
<a href="images/Theresa Kampmeier - On Standing Up.pdf" target="_blank"><i>On Standing Up,</i></a> 2016 (EN)
<a href="images/Poems of the Cold - Theresa Kampmeier.pdf" target="_blank"><i>Poems of the Cold,</i></a> 2015 (EN)
<a href="images/Theresa Kampmeier - Grund Schacht.pdf" target="_blank"><i>Grund Schacht,</i></a> Text, 2014 (DE)
---
Eine kleine Arbeit, die aus meinem Besuch in Shanghai, meinem Chinesischstudium und meinem fortlaufenden semiotischen Interesse hervorging, ist [[//Baum zeichnet Baum//->tree2DE]].
Zurück zu [[//Burrow Bay Moon//->Burrow2DE]] oder [[//Stickler's Digest//->Sticklers1DE]].
---
[
|===
$space[//On Standing Up//]
2016
//Stand Up// is a phone number tagged on an exhibition wall. Looks like it was done quickly by someone unskilled. Calling, one finds a poem recorded on its answering machine. In this poem, a woman receives a lift out of the city by an old friend. She called him after having fallen down somewhere. They talk until he drops her off in the middle of fields and forests. It turns out that the tagged number belongs to the driver.
Stand up, don't stand down, off, by, out, on, aside, back, over, still. Standing up, this moment of exposure to the unknown, before any action has really happened but openness is imminent while the body moves up to balance on its legs. In this movement, may it be physical or mental, lies the movens of sovereignty. When you stand up, you really stand alone. The sense of agency becomes clearer when standing up is used as an imperative: Stand up!, my mother told me when I was small, because back then I was living closer to the ground than now. Standing up implied another height to reach. But I also had to lift myself because part of learning to use my body vertically was to fall down often. Standing up after falling.
My thoughts on this piece are gathered in a knot of knots. It's a knot I wished could be made actual in space in order to see better where connections between knots are, and how they weave and weave. For a time, I imagined one of the two characters in the piece carrying a large physical bundle of string which was this knot, my knot of thoughts, the manifestation of the story's problem smuggled to the inside. But it turned out she couldn‘t carry it for me. Whenever I listened to my recordings of those scripts, all I could hear was them talking about adding or untying a Not. At that moment, the story was standing in its own way, and it decided to hand the piece of knot right back to me.
Stand Up – but what is it if not a comedy show, the monologue delivered to the audience. This call to stand up has nothing to do with a political slogan, it brings laughter through the back door. What it does is play. It, and in it its characters, and on top of it the voice; it plays identification, spins all its cranks, then snaps back. It makes you forget it in the instant it passes, just to then pound on the same spot again. As poetry, as the knot of knots, the text in the piece is written to have no center or periphery, to be a folded map on which what happens, happens, but it makes us all, the characters and the caller, the audience to whom the monologue is delivered at the end of an answering machine, which even turns on itself, too; it makes us all delivered to a freak sense of destiny. It is vandalism. Terribly superficial story telling. She plays with him, or she seems to play with him, because her intentions are so pure, she truly follows them, there is no hidden agenda at all. Feels like I'm not ever gentle enough. Experiencing such intensity, he simply expects a hidden motivation. His sense of inferiority is standing in his way. Knowing, but not knowing, that which standing up opens you up to, which is experience, and risking, daring to experience experience; because what do I do the whole time – I await, I anticipate fearfully, a change, a movement, imminent disaster that never comes, against which I still have to move – it's lacking. But losing the lack, both he and I wonder, is what she did.
===|
Storytelling, just like anything else, depends on luck. It is no exception, it is a gamble. I try filling the gamble with love. The imperative of stand up! is transformed into its infinitive every time to stand up approaches yet again. I agonize over the call for a counter hegemony, the faint echo of political activism, when writing it, when uttering it. Always giving more. This is the writing of the lift; the infinitive which is Saying in its execution. The rupture a fall provides gets inscribed very literally as a wound on the body, turns into a scar, engraving, ornament. All of it represents the Drawing of a fall; as she says.
In times of war, ruptures become more apparent. War seems to be a slip in the universe, the world slips and it gets wounded. Even my little private fall in a country that is still very much whole on its own territory, I cannot perceive it outside of war any longer. Then the becoming nurse is as immanent as water in water. It is a way of staying out of formalized movements, antagonisms – of associating but remaining infinitive, other. The anguish needed to heal and not to repair, it grows alongside care, both most urgently at the limits of being and only attained in encounters, attempting the intimacy of speaking out and listening, of touch. Being confidantes, accomplices, as a mode of gathering, it makes it possible to associate and act agonistically. It doesn‘t overlook the impossibility of communion.
What stands up remains valid after analysis. The call to stand up is just a preparation to escape this analysis which affirms its object into its own sphere, which annexes, often in the shape of the academic or commercial. The delusion that something has been checked and is therefore safe belongs into the elegant sandbox of the play that doesn't become, turn into, but owns. There is no salvation.
The relationship between the microphone and my mouth, it is sealed by the waves, and the person on the other end and me, we are physically connected by all the transformed energy of waves and sparks and waves. Then to think of audible silence makes me so happy. Because it contains the potential of these connections while being nothing, being the only reality I can truly connect with, while my speaking comes from pain. I have something to say. To stand the words, to stand the words, truly.
The sound filters of the system in the answering machine take the sound of my recorded voice apart. The answering machine's settings are designed for high efficiency and excellence in phone conferences of professional businesses, yet they distort the voice so absolutely that the piece undoes itself and whatever of that physical connection to my voice remains, in its endlessly repeating document, is a remain without provenance, a souvenir maybe, a corpse. The contact between us is a story. While supposedly a marked tag turns the exhibition space dirty – is a sign of vandalism, the signature in vandalism, the territorial claim of the streets, and surely here only a meagre substitute representation of the graffiti artist scratching the city, which recalls dirt into the show – when finally the beep sounds and the caller can answer, it is the turn of a mirror – it transgresses, it ruptures, it pulls back into being the caller who tried to listen to this mutilated chain of signifiers for so long they forgot they were on the phone themselves.
]
---
Zurück zu [[//Stand Up//->Stand2DE]].
---
[
|===
$space[//Fluxus-Gerüchte: Kunst in Textform für Menschen, die nicht nach Kunst suchen//]
Vier Tage mit mehreren Teilnehmenden ohne Vorkenntnisse
Workshop in Arnsberg
2020
Inspiriert von der Fluxus-Bewegung der 1960er Jahre, deren Motto “Kunst für alle” war, experimentierten wir mit vergänglichen Textinterventionen im öffentlichen Raum, die mit der Vorstellungskraft spielen. Sie könnten auf ganz verschiedenen Materialien stattfinden – ob auf Klebeband, mit Kreide, im Smartphone, im Gespräch oder auf einem Fetzen Müll im Wind. Wir erkundeten die Innenstadt, steckten uns gegenseitig mit ihr an und erzählten sie neu. Wir entwarfen Ideen für einfache, textbasierte Kunstinterventionen, mit denen wir unsere Visionen für Arnsberger Orte mit Anderen teilen konnten. Dabei hinterfragten wir, welche Rolle Kunst und Poesie im Alltag haben.
Rechts: Skizze, 2019.
Unten: Einladung, 2020.
===|
<img src="images/sketch.jpg">
]
---
<img src="images/fluxusworkshop.jpg">
---
Der [[Vorgänger->fluxus2DE]] dieses Workshops fand 2017 in einer Nachbarschaft in Shanghai statt.
---
==>
[[[Index->IndexDE]]]<index|
[
|===
$space[//Konvoi spezial//]
Mit Yala Juchmann, Liska Schwermer-Funke und drei ArnsbergerInnen
Mobile Ausstellung im öffentlichen Raum der Stadt Arnsberg
Vom 1. bis 31. August 2020
Für den //Konvoi spezial// entwickelten wir in drei Tandems aus jeweils einer Künstlerin und einer ArnsbergerIn Kunstwerke zum öffentlichen Raum in Arnsberg. Übersetzt in großformatige Drucke waren die entstandenen Werke im //Konvoi spezial// einen Monat lang auf 20 privaten und 22 städtischen Fahrzeugen (darunter Müllwagen, Dienstautos des Bürgermeisters und Rasenmäher) vor Ort zu sehen. Die FahrerInnen wurden in dieser Zeit zu alltäglichen KunstvermittlerInnen.
Die Ausstellung wurde von mir konzipiert und koordiniert, unterstützt durch das Kulturbüro Arnsberg und das Kultursekretariat NRW Gütersloh.
Mehr Informationen auf der <a href="http://stadtbesetzung.de/staedte/arnsberg/kuenstlerischer-konvoi-rollt-durch-arnsberg/" target="_blank">offiziellen Seite</a> der Stadtbesetzung.
Rechts: Eines der Motive auf einem Fahrzeug der Technischen Dienste.
Unten: Einladungsbild.
===|
<img src="images/konvoi2.jpg">
]
---
<img src="images/konvoi3.jpg">
---
[
|===
Mit Ramona Schmitt
$space[//Tunnelblicke//]
Karton, Kleister, Westfalenpost, Arnsberger Wanderkarte, Kreidefarbe, Seil
Jew. 12 x 17 x 22 cm
Zwei Skulpturen
2020
In //Tunnelblicke// ruhen die beiden physisch markanten Zeichen des Zentrums wie in einem Kippbild auf den zwei gegenüberliegenden Seiten des Altstadttunnels, der das skulpturale Podest unterwandert und zu einer Schleuse macht.
Rechts: //Tunnelblicke// dokumentiert von Barbara Anneser, Arnsberg.
===|
<img src="images/konvoi4.jpg">
<img src="images/konvoi5.jpg">
]
---
Den Sommer zuvor erarbeitete ich die Installation [[//Carry on windows//->Carry on windowsDE]] für eine Landung der Women on Aeroplanes.
---
==>
[[[Index->IndexDE]]]<index|
[
|===
$space[//Stickler's Digest//]
Collaboration with Cheng Kitsum
Old walking sticks, screws, newspaper
Participatory object, edition of 3
2016
//Stickler's Digest// is a newspaper with short stories, fictional interviews, and advertisements, based on archived news reports involving walking sticks from the 1920s. Visitors are invited to grab the object as they enter the exhibition. They can then lean on it or turn it upside down to browse.
Image: Exhibition at MMK Zollamt, Frankfurt am Main.
Find a PDF of the newspaper itself [[here->Bodies2]].
===|
<img src="images/Cheng+Kampmeier-Sticklers-Digest-2016-Kopie.jpg">
]
---
Back to [[//Stand Up//->Stand2]].
---
[
|===
$space[//Stickler's Digest//]
Collaboration with Cheng Kitsum
Old walking sticks, screws, newspaper
Participatory object, edition of 3
2016
//Stickler's Digest// is a newspaper with short stories, fictional interviews, and advertisements, based on archived news reports involving walking sticks from the 1920s. Visitors are invited to grab the object as they enter the exhibition. They can then lean on it while watching the exhibition, or they can turn it upside down to browse its content.
Image: Exhibition at MMK Zollamt, Frankfurt am Main.
Find a PDF of the newspaper itself [[here->Bodies]].
===|
<img src="images/Cheng+Kampmeier-Sticklers-Digest-2016-Kopie.jpg">
]
---
==>
[[[Index->Index]]]<index|
[
|===
$space[//Stickler's Digest//]
Kollaboration mit Cheng Kitsum
Alter Gehstock, Schrauben, Zeitung, Serie von 3
Partizipatives Zeitungsobjekt
2016
//Stickler's Digest// ist eine Zeitung mit absurden Kurzgeschichten, fiktiven Interviews und Werbung, die auf alten Zeitungsartikeln aus den Zwanzigern basieren, in denen auch Gehstöcke vorkommen. Das Objekt konnte am Eingang zur Ausstellung aufgesammelt und dann während des Besuchs entweder dazu benutzt werden, um sich darauf zu lehnen oder, indem es auf den Kopf gedreht wurde, um die Zeitung zu lesen.
Bild: Austellung im MMK Zollamt, Frankfurt am Main.
Ein PDF der Zeitung selbst gibt es [[hier->BodiesDE]].
===|
<img src="images/Cheng+Kampmeier-Sticklers-Digest-2016-Kopie.jpg">
]
---
==>
[[[Index->IndexDE]]]<index|
[
|===
$space[//Stickler's Digest//]
Kollaboration mit Cheng Kitsum
Alter Gehstock, Schrauben, Zeitung, Serie von 3
Partizipatives Zeitungsobjekt
2016
//Stickler's Digest// ist eine Zeitung mit absurden Kurzgeschichten, fiktiven Interviews und Werbung, die auf alten Zeitungsartikeln aus den Zwanzigern basieren, in denen auch Gehstöcke vorkommen. Das Objekt konnte am Eingang zur Ausstellung aufgesammelt und dann während des Besuchs entweder dazu benutzt werden, um sich darauf zu lehnen oder, indem es auf den Kopf gedreht wurde, um die Zeitung zu lesen.
Image: Austellung im MMK Zollamt, Frankfurt am Main.
Ein PDF der Zeitung selbst gibt es [[hier->Bodies2DE]].
===|
<img src="images/Cheng+Kampmeier-Sticklers-Digest-2016-Kopie.jpg">
]
---
Zurück zu [[//Stand Up//->Stand2DE]].
---
[
|===
$space[//Plunkett table//]
Fine art digital print, 61 x 134 cm
Edition of 3 + II
2020
Following the growth of an Irish movement for rural reconstruction between 1889 and 1914, the Plunkett Foundation has been supporting the formation of co-operatives in the countryside for a hundred years already. The print shows the surface of a working table at the foundation.
===|
<img src="images/plunkett2.png">
]
---
==>
[[[Index->Index]]]<index|
[
|===
$space[//Plunkett table//]
Tintenstrahldruck auf Büttenpapier, 61 x 134 cm
Edition 3 + II
2020
Die britische Plunkett Foundation unterstützt seit dem frühen zwanzigsten Jahrhundert die Bildung von Ko-operativen im ländlichen Raum. Sie entstand aus einer irischen Emanzipationsbewegung. Der Druck zeigt den Arbeitstisch der Stiftung.
===|
<img src="images/plunkett2.png">
]
---
==>
[[[Index->IndexDE]]]<index|
[
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$space[//Finders keepers//]
Gravierte Gipseier
Jew. 6 x 4,5 cm
Verstreute Skulptur
2020
Zwölf der Objekte sind über einen öffentlichen Parkstreifen verteilt, wo sie herumliegen, als seien sie bloß vergessen worden. Die Gipsabdrücke sind mit dem Buchstaben y graviert, entlehnt aus der mittelalterlichen „Apkalypse von Angers“. Das Set wird regelmäßig aus der verbleibenden Gruppe aufgefüllt, bis alle Eier verschwunden sind.
Kann ich das hier mitnehmen? Die Skulptur stößt dazu an, inspiziert zu werden und dabei die sozialen Rituale und persönlichen Affekte von Besitztum und Extraktivismus zu betrachten. Das englische Idiom „finders keepers“ bedeutet, dass auf etwas, das anscheinend niemandem gehört, Anspruch erhoben werden kann – häufig mit der Andeutung, dass der eigentliche Besitzende nicht sorgfältig genug darauf aufgepasst hat und es deshalb weggeschnappt wird. Aber gehört ein Ei nicht zu dem Huhn, das es gelegt hat?
Als Eier ohne Ursprung oder Brut machen aufgelesene Objekte engagierte Finder zum Teil ihrer materiellen Konstellation.
===|
<img src="images/finders1.jpg">
Bilder: Ansichten während <a href="http://www.aeproject.info" target="_blank">//The Forage//</a>.
]
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<img src="images/finders2.jpg">
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2020 organisierte ich eine Ausstellung auf Autos in einer westdeutschen Kleinstadt, den [[Konvoi spezial->KonvoiDE]].
---
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[[[Index->IndexDE]]]<index|
[
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$space[//Finders keepers//]
Engraved plaster eggs
6 x 4,5 cm each
Dispersed sculpture
2020
Twelve eggs are distributed across a park stretch where they lay around as if they‘d just been forgotten. The plaster casts are engraved with the letter y, borrowed from a French medieaval Apocalypse Tapestry. The set is replenished from the stock regularly until all the eggs are gone.
Can I take this? The sculpture //Finders keepers// nudges passers-by to inspect it, provoking a consideration of the social rituals and personal affects of property and extractivism. The idiom 'finders keepers' tells us that something which doesn‘t appear to be owned may be reclaimed, frequently implying that it hasn‘t been watched carefully enough by the previous owner and is therefore snatched away. But doesn‘t an egg belong with the chicken that laid it?
As eggs without origin or brood, lifted items turn engaged finders into part of their material formation.
===|
<img src="images/finders1.jpg">
Images: Views during <a href="http://www.aeproject.info" target="_blank">//The Forage//</a>.
]
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<img src="images/finders2.jpg">
---
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[[[Index->Index]]]<index|
[
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$space[//Konvoi spezial//]
With Yala Juchmann, Liska Schwermer-Funke and three locals
Mobile exhibition in Arnsberg, a small West-German town
August 1 to 31, 2020
For //Konvoi spezial//, three tandems, each composed of a local and an artist, developed art works from explorations in the public space of Arnsberg. These works spoke of types, shapes, colours, and constellations of the townscape. Translated into large format prints, they were shown on 20 private cars and 22 public service vehicles (among them garbage trucks, the mayor‘s limousine, and lawn mowers). During the month-long exhibition, the drivers became everyday art mediators.
I conceived of and organized this exhibition, supported by the local cultural office and the state office for culture in North Rhine-Westphalia.
More documentation on the official <a href="http://stadtbesetzung.de/staedte/arnsberg/kuenstlerischer-konvoi-rollt-durch-arnsberg/" target="_blank">project page</a>.
On the right: One of the works on a van from town services.
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<img src="images/konvoi2.jpg">
]
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<img src="images/konvoi3.jpg">
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[
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With Ramona Schmitt
$space[//Tunnelblicke//]
Cardboard, glue, local newspaper and hiking map, chalk paint, rope
12 x 17 x 22 cm each
Two sculptures
2020
The process of making these two sculptures became polarised between the old part of town on the hill and the new part of town in the valley. We were presented with the atmospheric contradiction of the urban flair of new city planning and the visual conservation of a medieval identity which has been paramount for tourism. This contradiction leaves its mark as an unresolved presence in the town centre. The spatial overlappings, social fusions, and troubles of planning caused by the varying aspirations are drawn out in the stacked arrangement of tunnel and landmarks in the work //Tunnelblicke// ('tunnel visions'). Like in a puzzle picture, the town's two outstanding landmarks are placed to rest on opposite ends of the old town tunnel. The hollow subverts the sculptural pedestal, turning it into a passage way. The bell tower resembles the tunnel in that it functions as a portal. The two elements are knotted together. Reaching out from the bell tower and actually replaying it with the public sculpture in the new part of town – a topographical pin translated from the digital sphere (by Aram Bartholl), makes tangible the relationship of tension of this particular public space.
On the right: Images for //Konvoi spezial//, //Tunnelblicke// photographed by Barbara Anneser, Arnsberg.
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<img src="images/konvoi4.jpg">
<img src="images/konvoi5.jpg">
]
---
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[
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[[Index]]]
[
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$space[//Finders keepers//]
Engraved plaster eggs
6 x 4,5 cm each
Dispersed sculpture
2020
Twelve eggs are distributed across a park stretch where they lay around as if they‘d just been forgotten. The plaster casts are engraved with the letter y, borrowed from a French medieaval Apocalypse Tapestry. The set is replenished from the stock regularly until all the eggs are gone.
Can I take this? The sculpture //Finders keepers// nudges passers-by to inspect it, provoking a consideration of the social rituals and personal affects of property and extractivism. The idiom „finders keepers“ means that something which doesn‘t appear to be owned may be reclaimed, frequently implying that it hasn‘t been watched carefully enough by the previous owner and is therefore snatched away. But doesn‘t an egg belong with the chicken that laid it?
As eggs without origin or brood, lifted items turn engaged finders into part of their material formation.
===|
<img src="images/finders1.jpg">
]
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<img src="images/finders2.jpg">
---
My latest work is the exhibition [[//Konvoi spezial//->Konvoi2]].
---
[
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[[Index->Index]]]
[
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$space[//Konvoi spezial//]
Mit Yala Juchmann, Liska Schwermer-Funke und drei ArnsbergerInnen
Mobile Ausstellung im öffentlichen Raum der Stadt Arnsberg
Vom 1. bis 31. August 2020
Für den //Konvoi spezial// entwickelten wir in drei Tandems aus jeweils einer Künstlerin und einer ArnsbergerIn Kunstwerke zu Arten, Formen, Farben und Konstellationen des öffentlichen Raums in Arnsberg. Übersetzt in großformatige Drucke waren die entstandenen Werke im Konvoi spezial einen Monat lang auf 20 privaten und 22 städtischen Fahrzeugen (darunter Müllwagen, Dienstautos des Bürgermeisters und Rasenmäher) vor Ort zu sehen. Die FahrerInnen wurden in dieser Zeit zu alltäglichen KunstvermittlerInnen.
Die Ausstellung wurde von mir konzipiert und koordiniert, unterstützt durch das Kulturbüro Arnsberg und das Kultursekretariat NRW Gütersloh.
Mehr Informationen auf der <a href="http://stadtbesetzung.de/staedte/arnsberg/kuenstlerischer-konvoi-rollt-durch-arnsberg/" target="_blank">offiziellen Seite</a> der Stadtbesetzung.
Rechts: Eines der Motive auf einem Fahrzeug der Technischen Dienste in Arnsberg.
===|
<img src="images/konvoi2.jpg">
]
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<img src="images/konvoi3.jpg">
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[
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Mit Ramona Schmitt
$space[//Tunnelblicke//]
Karton, Kleister, Westfalenpost, Arnsberger Wanderkarte, Kreidefarbe, Seil
Jew. 12 x 17 x 22 cm
Zwei Skulpturen
2020
Polarisiert von Altstadt am Berg und Neustadt im Tal zeigte sich im künstlerischen Prozess der beiden jungen Arnsbergerinnen ein Widerspruch zwischen dem urbanen Flair der neuen Stadtraumgestaltung und dem Erhalt der visuellen mittelalterlichen Identität. Die räumlichen Überschneidungen, sozialen Verschmelzungen und planerischen Kriselmomente dieser beiden Aspekte zeichnen die Künstlerinnen heraus in der geschichteten Anordnung von Verkehrstunnel und Wahrzeichen. In der Arbeit //Tunnelblicke// ruhen die beiden physisch markanten Zeichen des Zentrums wie in einem Kippbild auf den zwei gegenüberliegenden Seiten des Altstadttunnels, der das skulpturale Podest unterwandert und zu einer Schleuse macht. Der Glockenturm fungiert wie der Tunnel auch als Portal. So sind die zwei Elemente aneinander geknotet. Im Bogenschlag zwischen Turm und neuer Kreisverkehrskulptur ist für die beiden Künstlerinnen das Spannungsverhältnis voller Potenzial im Zentrum Arnsbergs spürbar.
Rechts: Druckvorlagen für //Konvoi spezial//, //Tunnelblicke// fotografiert von Barbara Anneser, Arnsberg.
===|
<img src="images/konvoi4.jpg">
<img src="images/konvoi5.jpg">
]
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Komm zurück an die
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[
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[[Index->IndexDE]]]
[
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$space[//Finders keepers//]
Gravierte Gipseier
Jew. 6 x 4,5 cm
Verstreute Skulptur
2020
Zwölf der Objekte sind über einen öffentlichen Parkstreifen verteilt, wo sie herumliegen, als seien sie bloß vergessen worden. Die Gipsabdrücke sind mit dem Buchstaben y graviert, entlehnt aus der mittelalterlichen „Apkalypse von Angers“. Das Set wird regelmäßig aus der verbleibenden Gruppe aufgefüllt, bis alle Eier verschwunden sind.
Kann ich das hier mitnehmen? Die Skulptur stößt dazu an, inspiziert zu werden und dabei die sozialen Rituale und persönlichen Affekte von Besitztum und Extraktivismus zu betrachten. Das englische Idiom „finders keepers“ bedeutet, dass auf etwas, das anscheinend niemandem gehört, Anspruch erhoben werden kann – häufig mit der Andeutung, dass der eigentliche Besitzende nicht sorgfältig genug darauf aufgepasst hat und es deshalb weggeschnappt wird. Aber gehört ein Ei nicht zu dem Huhn, das es gelegt hat?
Als Eier ohne Ursprung oder Brut machen aufgelesene Objekte engagierte Finder zum Teil ihrer materiellen Konstellation, einer statischen Skulptur.
===|
<img src="images/finders1.jpg">
]
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<img src="images/finders2.jpg">
---
Weiter zur aktuellsten Ausstellung, [[//Konvoi spezial//->Konvoi2DE]].
---
[
==>
[[Index->IndexDE]]]
<img class="gif" src="images/symbiose_berlin.gif" alt="Doves flying over a google street view camera in a flutter">
(live: 5s)[(stop:)
---
Now dart back to the [[[start->Start]]]<start|.]
This path leads to a few selected works. To take a look, follow the
Noo! I won't go anywhere without a map.
(Click: "Noo!")[
==>
Then you're off to the [[[index page->Index]]]<index|.]
Dieser Pfad führt auf eine kurze chronologische Tour durch ausgewählte Arbeiten. Um diesen Weg einzuschlagen, folge der [[Fährte...->WallDE]]
Nein. Auf keinen Fall! Ohne Karte gehe ich nirgendwo hin.
(Click: "Nein")[
==>
Dann gehts für Dich zum [[[Seitenindex->IndexDE]]]<index|.]
<img class="gif" src="images/symbiose_berlin.gif" alt="Doves flying over a google street view camera in a flutter">
(live: 5s)[(stop:)
---
Flatter zurück zum [[[Anfang->StartDE]]]<start|.]
[
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$space[//Durch die Bordüre// (Through the edging)]
Two bus schedule frames, laminated reproductions
Sculpture for a bus stop
2021
The two reproductions shown in //Durch die Bordüre// are details from the lower edging of a 14th century tapestry from Angers in France, known as the *Apocalypse*.
Underneath the first panels of the biblical story presented on this tapestry, a little rabbit vanishes into its burrow. Toward the end it peeks out again. In the installation both moments convene.
Images: documentation from the <a href="http://www.aeproject.info" target="blank">Forage</a>, Berlin Moabit.
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<img src="images/bordure1.jpg">
]
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<img src="images/bordure3.jpg">
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<img src="images/bordure4.jpg">
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The inquiry of this work also led to the dispersed sculpture [[//Finders keepers//->finders]].
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[[[Index->Index]]]<index|
[
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$space[//Durch die Bordüre//]
Zwei Busfahrplanrahmen, laminierte Reproduktionen
Installation für eine Bushaltestelle
2021
Die Bilder sind Ausschnitte aus der unteren Bordüre eines großen Wandteppichs, der „Apokalypse von Angers“ aus Frankreich im 14. Jahrhundert. Zu Beginn der Apokalypse verschwindet der Hase in seinem Bau. Gegen Ende schaut er wieder heraus. In der Installation werden beide Momente zusammen gebracht.
Rechts und unten: Dokumentation von der <a href="http://www.aeproject.info" target="blank">Forage</a>, Berlin Moabit.
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<img src="images/bordure1.jpg">
]
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<img src="images/bordure3.jpg">
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<img src="images/bordure4.jpg">
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Aus der Auseinandersetzung mit der Apokalypse entstand auch die verstreute Skulptur [[//Finders keepers//->findersDE]].
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[[[Index->IndexDE]]]<index|$space[//Colophon//]
Relief print, 29 x 23 cm
Edition of 7 + III
2021
Walking my home forests, I've been thinking with its many transformations, some devastating, some an offering of learning. Printed with a piece of spruce bark that was patterned by bark beetle larvae, Colophon constitutes the beginning of a new series of works.
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<img src="images/colophon1.jpg">
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[[[Index->Index]]]<index|
$space[//Colophon//]
Hochdruck, 29x23cm
Edition von 7 + III
2021
Die Wälder meiner Kindheit durchstreifend denke ich entlang ihrer vielen Transformationen, manche verheerend, manche eine Chance zu lernen. Die abgedruckte Fichtenrinde zeigt Borkenkäferlarven-Muster.
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<img src="images/colophon1.jpg">
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[[[Index->IndexDE]]]<index|$space[//Rural Reconstruction//]
The material presented <a href="https://www.ruralreconstruction.com" target="_blank">on this dedicated website</a> is part of an ongoing artist's inquiry into rural emancipatory movements and their transnational relationships during colonial modernity.
So far, my research has delved into a history of peripheries among Ireland, West Bengal, the South of England, North China, Nova Scotia, and Tennessee ca. 1890–1940.
Over the next years, I will share more of the findings through art works and exhibitions.
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[
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$space[//Margaret Digby, The Wall (1925)//]
Radio play, 20 minutes, in English, tin can speaker, shelf
2022
In 1925, reformer Margaret Digby wrote a theatre play for children about the internationalist solidarity at the basis of co-operation, to be performed at rallies of the Labour Party in London. My radio play is based on Digby's script. Digby went on to run the Plunkett Foundation for fifty years, an Irish-British organization acting as an information hub for rural co-operative practises.
Image: Tin can speaker on a shelf. Photographer: Jens Ziehe.
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<img src="images/wall.jpg">
]
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[
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$space[//Token No. 1//]
Multiple, recycled plastic
2021
In the 1920s, Yan Yangchu (James Y.C. Yen) and his colleagues founded the 'Mass Education Movement' (平民教育新运动 //píngmín jiaòyù xīn yùndòng//) in the northern Chinese county Ding Xian. They appropriated western paradigms of modernization to improve the local situation together with the locals. The logo of the organization was 平 (//píng//) for 'equality.' The multiple //Token No. 1// is embossed with this character. Visitors can take the trolley token with them.
Images:
On the right: A pile of beige trolley tokens. Photographer: Jens Ziehe.
Below: Documentation from nbk, Berlin.
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<img src="images/token.jpg">
]
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<img src="images/nbk1.jpg">
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[[[Index->Index]]]<index|
[
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$space[//Half an Hour Under the Seventh Seal//]
Hypertext fiction, 50 linked nodes, in English
2021
The interactive digital text can be connected to a physical access point, a voluptuous cardboard jumping jack lady. Pulling on her strings, a QR code descends from her crotch.
//Half an Hour Under the Seventh Seal// is a reflection on liberal myths of labour inherited from Christian dogmas in the West; on the relationship of my own art work to subsistence labour; and on the psychedelic ideas of the revelation of John in the bible as well as their representation in the Apocalypse Tapestry of Angers (14th century) – the autocratic idea of an end of time.
Access the story <a href="https://www.theresakampmeier.de/halfhourseventhseal.html" target="_blank">here.</a>
Image: Graphic traces of Jumping Jack Lady.
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<img src="images/jacklady.png">
]
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Drawing on the history in the margins of the Apocalypse Tapestry, [[//Durch die Bordüre//->Bordure]] illustrates movement at a bus stop.
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[[[Index->Index]]]<index|
$space[//Rural Reconstruction//]
Das Material, das <a href="https://www.ruralreconstruction.com" target="_blank">auf dieser eigenen Webseite</a> präsentiert wird, ist Teil einer fortlaufenden Forschung zu ländlichen Emanzipationsbewegungen und ihrem transnationalen Netzwerk während der kolonialen Moderne.
Bis jetzt ist meine Recherche in eine Geschichte der Randgebiete von ca. 1890 bis 1940 über Irland, West Bengalen, dem Süden Englands, Nordchina, Nova Scotia (Kanada) und Tennessee eingetaucht.
Über die kommenden Jahren werde ich die Erkenntnisse der Recherche durch künstlerische Arbeiten teilen.
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[
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$space[//Margaret Digby, The Wall (1925)//]
Hörspielinstallation
Sound, Konservendose, Lautsprecher, Regal, 20 Minuten, auf Englisch
2022
1925 schrieb Reformerin Margaret Digby ein Theaterstück für Kinder über den Geist der internationalen Solidarität, die der Kooperativen-Bewegung zugrunde lag. Das Stück The Wall war für Kundgebunden der Labour-Partei in London gedacht. Das neue Hörspiel basiert auf diesem Skript.
Einige Jahre später fing Digby an, die Plunkett Stiftung zu leiten – eine irisch-britische Organisation, die als internationales Informationszentrum für ländliche genossenschaftliche Methoden diente. Dort wirkte sie für knapp ein halbes Jahrhundert.
Bild: Konservendosen-Lautsprecher auf einem Regal. Fotograf: Jens Ziehe.
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<img src="images/wall.jpg">
]
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[
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$space[//Token No. 1//]
Multiple, recyceltes Plastik
2021
In den 1920er Jahren gründeten Reformer Yan Yangchu (Y.C. James Yan) und seine KollegInnen das „Mass Education Movement“ (平民教育新运动 //píngmín jiaòyù xīn yùndòng//) im nordchinesischen Verwaltungsbezirk Ding Xian, wo sie sich moderne Methoden und Techniken des Westens für diesen ländlichen Lokalraum aneigneten und mit den Menschen vor Ort weiterentwickelten.
In der Arbeit //Token No. 1// fungiert der Einkaufschip als komplizierte Referenz zu dieser Bewegung. Er trägt die Gravur des chinesischen Schriftzeichens 平, das als Logo des Mass Education Movements fungierte und das in etwa Gleichheit und Horizontalität bedeutet. Beide Seiten des Multiples sind identisch und verkörpern damit ganz einfach, was auf ihnen drauf steht. Als sammelbares Objekt, das Besuchende mitnehmen können, ist es auch immer ganz nützlich, bei sich zu haben. Wie alternative Währungen könnte es ambiguös auch als Cheat oder Hack gesehen werden. Es funtioniert als Andenken und Erinnerungshilfe für eine inspirierende Bewegung. Es hat den Anschein, Mitgliedsmarke zu sein, eine Form der Identifizierung. So etabliert es eine wechselwirkende Beziehung zu seinen Trägern, führt den Esprit der modernen „Organisation“ wieder auf und scheint Zugang zu der Art von Zeitreise zu gewähren, auf die die Künstlerin mit ihrer Lesart von Archiven abzielt.
Bilder:
Rechts: Ein Haufen beiger Einkaufschips. Fotograf: Jens Ziehe.
Unten: Dokumentation aus dem nbk, Berlin.
===|
<img src="images/token.jpg">
]
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<img src="images/nbk1.jpg">
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Die Hypertextfiktion [[//Half an Hour Under the Seventh Seal//->SealDE]] stammt aus einer Serie von Arbeiten zum mittelalterlichen Wandteppich der Apokalypse von Angers (14. Jahrhundert).
---
==>
[[[Index->IndexDE]]]<index|
[
|===
$space[//Half an Hour Under the Seventh Seal//]
Hypertext-Fiktion, 50 Erzählknotenpunkte, auf Englisch
2021
//Half an Hour Under the Seventh Seal// ist eine fiktionale Reflektion über liberale Mythen von Arbeit, die im Westen über christliche Dogmen vererbt wurden, über die Beziehung der eigenen künstlerischen Praxis zu Subsis- tenz-Arbeit und über die psychedelischen Ideen der Johannesoffenbarung sowie ihre Repräsentationen in der Apokalypse von Angers (14. Jahrhundert).
Der interaktive digitale Text kann zu einem physischen Zugangspunkt verlinkt werden, einer üppigen Hampelfrau aus Pappe. Am Faden aus ihrem Schoß kommt ein QR-Code.
<a href="https://www.theresakampmeier.de/halfhourseventhseal.html" target="_blank">Hier</a> gehts zur Geschichte.
Bild: Grafische Darstellung der Hampelfrau.
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<img src="images/jacklady.png">
]
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[[//Durch die Bordüre//->BordureDE]], das sich auf die Ränder der Apokalypse von Angers bezieht, illustriert Bewegungen an einer Bushhaltestelle.
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==>
[[[Index->IndexDE]]]<index|
$space[//Das Brotbaumregime//]
Exhibition
2023
Emphatically conceived from a local starting point, //Das Brotbaumregime// engages with the paradigm of timber plantations in a global context as well as with specific histories of the Sauerland forest. Up until 2018 – the beginning of a severe drought and a bark beetle calamity – spruce monocultures constituted seventy percent of local forested areas. The spruce has been called the "Brotbaum", the tree that provides, for more than a hundred years in this area where most available habitats are not well suited for spruce forests. Today, these plantations are irrevocably dying.
//Das Brotbaumregime// provides a cultural framework for the collective mourning that is needed in this community where the landscape is devastated by vast and radical changes. It contextualises climate change with the need for social transformation. The exhibition comprises historical and contemporary art works as well as new commissions from invited artists, historical documents, current research, and several expressions of local memory of life with the forests, as well as video interviews with locals about the situation at the time of the exhibition. Alongside the exhibition there is an extensive and free programme of events.
The <a href="https://www.brotbaumregime.info" target="_blank">website</a> serves as a rich archive for remote visits and later research.
With artistic contributions by Daniel Almagor, Maria Thereza Alves, Orawan Arunrak, Anca Benera & Arnold Estefán, bellu//&//bellu, Minia Biabiany, Ann Böttcher, Severin Caspari, Alice Creischer, Jimmie Durham, Embun Kenyowati Ekosiwi & Diana Hesse, Formafantasma, Francisca Gómez, Andreas Greiner, Johan Grimonprez, Grupo Experimental de Cine, Yala Juchmann, Ritva Kovalainen & Sanni Seppo, Natasja Loutchko, Ruth Maclennan, Antje Majewski, Jumana Manna, Elke Marhöfer, Anne Möx, Walter Ophey, Ben Osborn, Rory Pilgrim, Albert Renger-Patzsch, Tabita Rezaire & AMAKABA, Hanna Rullmann & Faiza Ahmad Khan, Suzanne Simard, Johanna Schellhagen, Rasa Smite & Raitis Smits and Gero Troike, with contributions and involvement by a long long list of locals, and with a great team that includes Christina Scheib, Bárbara Acevedo Strange, Bruno Jacoby, Moritz Appich, Tim Pickartz and the Kulturbüros of Arnsberg, Brilon and Schmallenberg.
<img src="images/bbr1.jpg">
Take a look at the <a href="https://www.brotbaumregime.info" target="_blank">website</a>.
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==>
[[[Index->Index]]]<index|
$space[//Vom Rücken//]
Installation
2022
<img src="images/ruecken.jpg">
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==>
[[[Index->Index]]]<index|