A daring example of art theft seemingly has been committed recently at Schleifmühlgasse 6, 1040 Vienna. One of numerous pieces of street art left all on housefronts all over Vienna by famed artist Banksy has been stolen. Where was once a happy Riot Cop with a Smiley Face and a friendly “Yo” coming out of his mouth (which incidentally was added at a later time) now is host to a gaping hole. A big chunk (about 300 x 50 cm) of wall has essentially been cut out. Here’s a picture of what it looked like:
Know the feeling when you suddenly stumble upon the name of a film you saw as a kid but could only remember certain scenes of? The joy of finally being able to put a name to things, to categorize them, look them up, link them?
Whatever: Felice Varini, yo! The undisputed master of the amamorphic illusion, I am ecstatic to finally put a name to the amazing stuff of his I’ve seen:
This is, without a doubt, one of the most unexpectedly fascinating articles I have read in a long time. It’s based around a story about a guy who was stuck in an elevator over the course of a weekend but soon branches out to deliver more facts and trivia about vertical travel than you could wrap your head around.
I think one should start capitalizing on this, culturally. Base performances around spam, essentially randomizing the starting point of expression.
For example: the audience sits in a room, a computer screen is projected onto a wall or canvas. The email program is opened. We wait to see what happens. As soon as a spam-mail arrives, it is opened and the performer(s) start(s) acting on it. The above example is almost too straightforward compared to other examples I’ve received in recent years (which often looked almost like a John Cage score), but would make a nice little interpretative dance number, me thinks. I like how they speak of “appartments” (plural) and the nearly existentialist afterthought in form of an almost diffident question is just, erm, priceless.
Das ist also das erste was ich in den nächsten 4 Wochen sehen werde, wenn ich in der früh die Augen aufmache. Don’t get me wrong, ich finde weder an Flaggen noch an einem gesunden (sprich: reflektierten) Nationalbewusstsein etwas anstössiges, aber was soll dieser selbstlose, fast schon rührselige Österreich-Patriotismus im Rahmen einer Fussball-EM? Ist das die Hoffnung auf ein Rot-Weiss-Rotes Sommermärchen, ein neues Selbstbewusstsein wie vor zwei Jahren bei unseren anderen deutschsprachigen Nachbarn? Anzunehmen, und umso schlimmer wird’s wohl, wenn wir kein einziges Spiel gewinnen und in der Vorrunde ausscheiden. Noch 29 Tage.
Die Flagge der internationalen Vexillologischen Gesellschaft. Kein Schmäh.
No Comments » | 
Uncategorized | 
Permalink
Posted by batesman
