The real value of newest contemporary arts

the work of art in the age of its technical reproducibility!

The emperor's new clothes.

Beauty is given (to us) (for free!)

Ich bin

jede Sekunde, jede Phase, jedes Kapitel meines Lebens,
weil ich mich neu erfinden kann.

Ich bin

jede Episode, jede multiple Abspaltung meiner selbst,
auch wenn ich mich immer neu definiere.

Ich bin

die Maßlosigkeit, die alle Schönheit dieser Erde auf einmal verschlingen möchte,

die Sehnsucht jede Facette meines Ichs zum Explodieren zu bringen.

Ich bin

die rasende Suche nach etwas Unbekanntem, die in träger Einsamkeit mündet.

Ich bin

der Moment des Glücks, wenn du in den Himmel schaust und dich, das ganze Universum in dir spürend, 
in mir wiederfindest,

der

jetzt

schon wieder

vorbei

ist.

Ich bin

ein Mosaik.

Ich gehöre zusammen.

Gehöre zusammen als Mosaik. Bin die Verbindung zwischen Mosaiksteinen.

Ein Teil. Teil der Verbindung.

Teil der Verbindung aus all den Mosaiken die du kennst.
Die du die Welt nennst.

Ich bin

(R.J.)

A quote for my muslim friends (after the "Charlie Hebdo" assassinations in Paris)

"Do not let yourselves provoke now! ... The devastating of this terrible attack was (also) that it perverted the sides: It has changed the Muslims from the position of the victim to the one of the perpetrators and brought the French journal from the attacker to the victim." The magazine Charlie Hebdo of course has deliberately offended Muslims with the publication of cartoons depicting the prophet and of course it was appropriate that the Muslims would defend their prophet, but: "This must however be done with wisdom and understanding!"

Mohammed Mokhtar Gomaa, the Egyptian Minister of Religious Endowments, preached at the friday prayer (9th January 2015) of the Sultan Hasan Mosque in Cairo.

Source: German weekly newspaper "Die Zeit" 

Unfortunately most German media did not report much about Merabet Ahmed, the French policeman who was murdered by the unscrupulous assassins on Wednesday in Paris. Merabet was injured in the street near the editorial office of "Charlie Hebdo", as one of the hooded perpetrators approached him and without hesitation shot in the head killing him. Merabet was a Muslim. The Muslim activist Dyab Abou Jajah wrote Thursday on Twitter: "I'm not Charlie, I'm Ahmed, the dead policeman. Charlie Hebdo was making fun of my faith and culture, and I died for his right to do that."

(get) the OVERLOOK (hotel) ...

 

If you drive for about one hour south east of Portland (Oregon), the road starts rising up to hills. The trees will become bigger and the hills turn into giant grey rocks hiding the blank sky. Then it is time to enter the steep slim side road to the left up to the top of a blinding white cone shimmering in the the strong sunlight of a clear autumn day.   

When you finally arrive over the clouds you will soon understand that you are standing on an old vulcano which is part of a chain called Cascadia. In the south you see Mt Jefferson, to the north there is Mt St Helens (last outbreak May 1980). And you are, somewhere inbetween, on Mt Hood. Welcomed by a raven who was waiting for you for a very long time.

And then you see something that seems very familiar to you although you could have never been here before. It does not look nice or friendly at all, so you start wondering why you feel so much at home on a place that you definitly have never been before. Its a giant wooden house, squatting on the stony side of the vulcano.

Not understanding how something absolutely new can feel so very well known you enter the entrance of this broad wooden building ...

It is a special spirit all around. 

A house haunted by people who never were here.

 

 

A photo of a new years night suddenly tells you why your memory believes you have been here before. You know this place from a movie. From a very special movie.

AND THEN YOU REMEMBER.

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.

 This is the place of the fictive fiction writer Jack Torrance. You never forgot him.

Welcome to the Overlook hotel.

You can check out any time you like. But you can never leave.

The day that changed Germany: Leipzig, 9th October 1989 (Why could the FALL OF THE BERLIN WALL happen?)

How to win a revolution without bloodshed...
East Germany 1989.

Why could the FALL OF THE BERLIN WALL happen?
(And why was everybody suprised about that?)

Video (BBC-Interview, Oct 2014).

Audio (BBC-Interview, extended version, Oct 2014). 

Novel (Rabet, Munich 1999).

History book (The day that changed Germany, Leipzig 2007).

Wer ist Juan Antonio Sánchez?

bossa nova berlim - for my brazilian friends

a  festa dos segundos

as ruas dançam nuas e azuis
a hora tem o gosto quente do chá que revigora
as lâmpadas brilham ensolaradas como um bosque no outono
e as idéias têm o frescor da neve da manhã
tão-somente com as mãos limpamos os sentidos
embaçados como janelas pela chuva ácida
vagamos irrefreáveis pelo oceano do tempo
e pressentimos que a tempestade não vai passar
não vai passar

do rádio despenca o silêncio
na cabeça rouco e cósmico arde o jazz
tecemos um agasalho com a poeira  das ruas
e celebramos a festa dos segundos
a dama para quem recordar é dever
entristece e fica rija como sal
rimos e dançamos em torno da estátua
e por fim explode o coração

sobre a mesa uma conta que rasgamos
e  vivemos então nossos desejos
não ligamos para a ditadura da maioria
a esperança como princípio é prejuízo
por quanto tempo devemos esperar
por paraísos futuros prometidos
enquanto silenciosos e inexplorados
os melhores dias passaram
passaram

não não as ruas dançam nuas e azuis
a hora tem o gosto quente do chá que revigora
as lâmpadas brilham ensolaradas como bosque no outono
e as idéias têm o frescor da neve da manhã
(tradução de Carlos Abbenseth e Antonio Martins)

amour

tu me touches avec les doigts du regard

me décris avec la langue du silence

m’envisages avec les mains de la connaissance

assouvis ma faim pluridimensionnelle

tu jongles avec les syllabes hésitantes des odeurs

dévoiles des sons nostalgiques

tisses ton haleine dans la mienne

assouvis la faim des corps

tu danses avec le désir ardent de mes yeux

joues avec le rythme de mes pensées

avec les langues du silence

nous – un enfer foisonnant

de mots

pas encore nés

(Deutsch "stillen", in: "sekundenbuch", Leipzig 2012)
Übertragung (c) Marie Fleury.