De 5 kunstværker (men desværre ikke billeder af dem, I må derop og se løs med egne øjne), jeg udvalgte til min WALK AND TALK i går på Louisianas udstilling af nyerhvervelser 2009-2011,
Pink Caviar, og de 5 romaner og uddrag fra samme, jeg kontrasterede dem med:
Marcel van Eeden:
Witz, 2009
(installation med og "om" personer, der hedder Witz til efternavn i telefonbogen for New York)
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Martin Larsen:
Monogrammer 1-8, 2007:
Sibel Hoffmann
Paulowa Lauritsen
Maheen Sommer
Hans-Henrik Overgaard
Jensmine Ravn
Alesandr Johnsen
Salahdin-Arbi Sørensen
Malaine Petersen
Suzann Nissen
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Simon Evans:
Everyone, 2011
(collage med forbindelseslinjer mellem et utal af personer, private og kulturelle relationer)
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Charles Dickens:
Our Mutual Friend, 1864-65:
The majority of the guests were like the plate, and included several heavy articles weighing ever so much. But there was a foreign gentleman among them; whom Mr Podnsap had invited after much debate with himself - believing the whole European continent to be in mortal alliance against the young person - and there was a droll disposition, not only on the part of Mr Podsnap but of everybody else, to treat him as if he were a child who was hard of hearing.
As a delicate concession to this unfortunately-born foreigner, Podnsap, in receiving him, had presented his wife as 'Madame Podsnap;' also his daughter as 'Mademoiselle Podsnap,' with some inclination to add 'ma fille' in which bold venture, however, he checked himself. The Veneerings being at that time the only other arrivals, he had added (in a condescendingly explanatory manner), 'Monsiuer Vey-nair-reeng,' and had then subsided into English.
'How Do You Like London?' Mr Podsnap now inquired from his station as host, as if he were administering something in the nature of a powder or potion to the deaf child; 'London, Londres, London?'
The foreign gentleman admired it.
'You find it Very Large?' said Mr Podsnap, spaciously.
The foreign gentleman found it very large.
'And Very Rich?'
The foreign gentleman found it, without doubt, enormément riche.
'Enourmously Rich, We say,' returned Mr Podsnap, in a condescending manner. 'Our English adverbs do Not terminate in Mong, and We Pronounce the 'ch' as if there were a 't' before it. We say Ritch.'
'Reetch,' remarked the foreign gentleman.
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Eliot Hundley:
A Cairn of Cyssonema, 2009
(kæmpe collagebillede med mange fjer og fotos på nåle)
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James Joyce:
Ulysses, 1922:
So warm. His right hand once more slowly went over again: choice blend, made of the finest Ceylon brands. The far east. Lovely spot it must be: the garden of the world, big lazy leaves to float about on, cactuses, flowery meads, sneaky lianas they call them. Wonder is it like that. Those Cinghalese lobbing around in the sun, in
dolce far niente. Not doing a hand's turn all day. Sleep six months out of twelwe. Too hot to quarrel. Influence of the climate. Lethargy. Flowers of idleness. The air feeds most. Azotes. Hothouse in Botanic Gardens. Sensitive plants. Waterlilies. Petals too tired to. Sleeping sickness in the air. Walk on roseleaves. Imagine trying to eat tripe and cowheel. Where was the chap I saw in that picture somewhere? Ah, in the dead sea, floating on his back, reading a book with a parasol open. Couldn't sink if you tried: so thick with salt. Because of the weight of the water, no, the weight of the body in the water is equal to the wight of. Or is it the volume is equal of the weight? It's a law something like that. Vance in High school cracking his fingerjoints, teaching. The college curriculum. Cracking curriculum. What is weight reallly when you say the weight? Thirtytwo feet per second, per second. They all fall to the ground. The earth. It's the force of gravity of the earth is the weight.
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Michael Majerus:
Ohne titel/ Studio Wall, 1996-2002 (kan ses i Politiken i dag)
6 x 5 kvadratiske grelt kulørte, abstrakte/figurlige malerier
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Per Kirkeby:
2,15, 1967
Princess Alessandro, twenty-six years old, married to Prince Ruspoli, is the golden-haired, golden girl of Europe. She looks so young it is hard to believe she has been married five years and has three children. She is a little heady for a royal princess. She is, inevitably, a public person.
Vinden havde bidt sig ind i hans blå øjne. Sandet havde slidt ..
Ørekule, Jettebrink, Hundevangsfald, Hundevængeklint, Fruerstuefald, Vidskud, Skrædderrende, Lille Steilebjerg, Steilefald, Store Steilebjerg, Grårygfald, Gråryg, Nellerende, Nellerendenakke, Sommerfald, Sommerspir, Sandfald, Sandpynt, Græder.
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Wolfgang Tilmans:
Freischwimmer 130, 2009
Stor, grøn-blåt foto af sædceller i kaotisk aktion
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Laurence Sterne:
The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, 1759-63
I wish either my father or my mother, or indeed both of them, as they were in duty both equally bound to it, had minded what they were about when the begot me; had they duly considered how much depended upon what they were then doing; - that not only the production of a rationel Being was concerned in it, but that possibly the happy formation and temperature of his body, perhaps his genius and the very cast of his mind; - and for, aught they know to the contrary, even the fortunes of his whole house might take their turn from the humours and dispositions which were then uppermost: - Had they duly weighed and considered all this, and proceeded accordingly, - I am verily persuaded I should have made a quite different figure in the world, from that, in which the reader is likely to see me. - Believe me, good folks, this is not so inconsiderable a thing as many of you may think it; - you have all, I dare say, heard of the animal spirits, as how they are transfused from father to son &c. &c. - and a great deal to that purpose: - Well, you may take my word, that nine parts in ten of a man's sense or his nonsense, his successes and miscarriages in this world depends upon their motions and acitivity, and the different tracts ands trains you put them into, som that when they are once set a-going, whether right or wrong, 'tis not a halfpenny matter, - away they go cluttering like hey-go-mad; and by treading the same steps over and over again, they presently make a road of it, as plain and as smooth as a garden-walk, which, when they are once used to, the Devil himself sometimes shall not be able to drive them off it.
Pray, my dear, quoth my mother,
have you forgot to wind up the clock? - Good G-! cried my father, making an exclamation, but taking care to moderate his voice in the same time, -
Did ever a woman, since the creation of the world, interrupt a man with such a silly question? Pray, what was your father saying? - Nothing.
