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»Es gibt nichts zu erzählen!«
»Es gibt nichts zu erzählen!«

Chantal Akerman

Meine Mutter lacht

Ich bereite mich auf ihren Tod vor. Wie machst du das, fragt jemand. Ich versuche, mir mich ohne sie vorzustellen. Und ich denke, das wird gehen. Nicht für sie. Für mich. Oder das Gegenteil. Aber anscheinend kann man sich nicht wirklich vorbereiten, also vergeude ich meine Zeit. Sie hat schreckliche Lebenslust. Und du? Ich habe keine Ahnung.
  • Autorenfilm
  • Identität
  • Autobiographie
  • Kindheit
  • Erinnerung
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Es gibt kein absolutes Besonderes.

Rolf Bossart, Milo Rau

Es gibt kein absolutes Besonderes.

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  • Postmoderne
  • Reenactment
  • Kunsttheorie
  • Humanismus
  • Realismus
  • Künstlerische Praxis
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Maël Renouard

On Memory Atrophy

Externalized memory had always proceeded by contractions, summaries, reductions, selections, breaks in flow, as well as by organization, classification, boiling down. Card catalogues reduced thousands of works to a few key notions; tables of contents contracted the hundreds of pages in a given book. The sign itself was the first abbreviation of experience. An epic stitched of words was an abbreviation of the war, the long years of which were reduced to a few nights of recitation; the written text that recorded the epic was a contraction of the oral narration which pushed aside its sensory richness, melody, life in a thousand details. In accumulating, every level of abbreviation reconstituted an infinite flow, a new dilation that would be contracted in its turn. From the plurality of pages to the index and the table of contents; from the plurality of books to card catalogues.

The abbreviated elements were further arranged, situated...

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Empty Diagonal
Empty Diagonal

Mehdi Belhaj Kacem, Antoine d’Agata

Diagonale du vide

“If there is an artist capable of making these vacuums speak, it is d’Agata. To show what is not visible, to make present what can not be represented. There is a visual 'spectralism' about Antoine. It is about recording the spasms of humanity that is committing suicide, which has access to all the information needed to know what it is doing, and yet does nothing to revert the trend. We documented this suicide during a week of shared driving, of...
  • Gemeinschaft
  • Frankreich
  • Gegenwartskunst
  • Revolution
  • Fotografie
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Diane Williams

How about some string?

I said “Would you like a rope? You know that haul you have is not secured properly.”
“No,” he said, “but I see you have string!”
“If this comes into motion—” I said, “you should use a rope.”
“Any poison ivy on that? ” he asked me, and I told him my rope had been in the barn peacefully for years.
He took a length of it to the bedside table. He had no concept for what wood could endure.
“Table must have broken when I lashed it onto the truck,” he said.
And, when he was moving the sewing machine, he let the cast iron wheels—bang, bang on the stair.
I had settled down to pack up the flamingo cookie jar, the cutlery, and the cookware, but stopped briefly, for how many times do you catch sudden sight of something heartfelt?
I saw our milk cows in their slow...

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