Tag Archives: architecture

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Finissage der KunstAktienausstellung

Saturday night was the Finissage of the KunstAktienausstellung in Uferhallen. Some hours were spent wandering around the entire Hallen looking at art, trees, clouds.

In the generator hall an installation artist was working on his project for an upcoming exhibition. It is a TARDIS. The hall in itself is vast and high-ceilinged, and the late-evening light sent a warmth and glow through what in winter is as oppositely cold and grim. In this sat a square wooden cube, about the size of a large, high-ceilinged room.

On the far side was something that played such delightful havoc with my perception; a slit perhaps half a meter wide exposing the innards. Whiteness and light so uniformly even and depthless as to confuse me to think I was staring into something infinite. An optical illusion yes, but on a grand scale and one that subtle enough to not be aware of.

The paint was drying and I found, once I entered, that by covering my eyes so as to desensitise them to light, the effect was magnified. As was it by blinking exaggeratedly, or moving around, holding a hand up. I became a little silly in there, once even thumping into a wall I had no idea was so near. Dr Who would love it, I think – though he has his own ‘bigger on the inside’ box.

The photos can’t convey the perceptual weirdness of it, a physical dislocation almost like being drugged, still … photos …

sun in generator hall sun in generator hall

its bigger on the inside its bigger on the inside

uferhallen tardis uferhallen tardis

some clouds, crooked building, ufo some clouds, crooked building, ufo

suspended disc and traveling robot lights suspended disc and traveling robot lights

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drilling foundations at night

Riding home from Yoga+Bondage with Dasniya, around 1am the city still, especially along my favourite to-and-from Kreuzberg route. From Oranienplatz a detour leads beside the wasteland of the wall, now an impromptu park and wild, overgrown space.

Through an upheaval of new inner-city apartments (as if Berlin can ever be anything but inner-city, yet still …) before turing a bend and arriving at the river. Which will be on one side until we cross and leave it at the far end of Museuminsel.

It’s always peaceful this way, no cars and few people. Arriving at Unter den Linden and passing through the heart of Berlin, at night on a bicycle, the Dom, Fernseherturm, the pit of the Palast, all the museums … I often think what a joy to live here.

Leaving the Spree, over Oranienburgerstr and winding through the small streets near Sophienstr, up into the industrial and public housing parts of Wedding, alongside Volkspark Humboldthain and home.

More night construction along the banks of the Spree beside Neues Museum…

drilling at night drilling at night

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(renamed as) mm ∫-1x dt/dv ≥ ⨍(dy:fr:hf)

The last few days, Dasniya, Hartmut and myself had been in another Fabrik, with another mobile gantry. More dust and dirt, grime, rope adventure. We have somewhere new to play. More to talk about also. John Cage makes an appearance.

Yesterday was the opening of nameless, not far from Uferhallen, in an old factory. In darkness later, with lights burning behind glass once more, it felt as if life was returning. The past weeks, nameless, along with many others have been taking advantage of this emptiness … an entire Fabrik, empty! One building – the smallest – with three floors and an attic, the other with four spread along two sides of the yard, then more single-storied buildings including the beautiful, wooden-roofed Embassy Room.

For summer, or at least until September, this will be a place for art, and with their histories in opera, it might be the only artists’ Fabrik of its kind in Berlin where performance is close to the heart.

So we made noise with the gantry – not as fast as the one in Uferhallen, but higher and noisier – and over some days made a thing. We performed this last night, sliding in after the fourth number from Berlin Art Orchestra, who accompanied us for the binding and suspending.

A video might appear soon, until then, a photo.

Also, Dasniya and I, separately and together, and with others will be having workshops, classes and works there. More on this soon, except to say for now, I’ll be teaching yoga in the mornings from later this month, and Dasniya has a Yoga+Bondage workshop on the 28th and 29th.

removed

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la monnaie

Strange I have no category for pain. Two days after feeling so comfortable hanging for half an hour, I find myself shoved deep into the ropes not able to find any comfort. mmm pain. Tomorrow I shall hang on the other side, as my left side is worn out.

We made it into the theatre today, wigs and all. A run of Act II, and with wigs, lights and hurried sense of immanent importance, I decided to do the hanging topless again (it’s mostly easier to tie without clothes in the way), and so felt a little obvious surrounded by everyone in trackpants and singlets.

The set is huge. I’ve seen Act I and have no idea how the techies are going to turn around that monster in the pause. Rainforest *zap* big white box. Deeply envious Gala gets to climb all over it.

BUT!

I feel like not saying too much about it, especially as “Hi! I’ve read your blog!” is becoming quite common. Writing about my own work is different. It’s also a method to clarify what I’m doing, so is quite personal. Writing about someone else’s … I have an acute sense of not-stepping-on-toes and the uncomfortable feeling of clown feet.

I spent much of the remainder, once unroped and dosed on aspirin, lurking in the wings with camera. Part of me would love to put up all the photos now, but I’ll wait until we open.

the extras, backstage the extras, backstage

parsifal in three acts parsifal in three acts

the extras move sidestage the extras move sidestage

the kiss the kiss

spread fingers levitate table spread fingers levitate table

prompt side bound spectre prompt side bound spectre

untying untying

… en vernietigt deze valse pracht … en vernietigt deze valse pracht

a step a step

finish finish

klingsor returns after klingsor returns after

parsifal kundry after parsifal kundry after

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ein bühnenweinfestspiel, some books, a story

“A funny story.”

(As I remember it from 9am, or, how black metal brings us all together.)

“I said to my brother, “No one ever makes dance to Throbbing Gristle”. Then he was in Adelaide and said, “!!! Throbbing Gristle!”. So I googled ‘Frances d’Ath’ and then someone said you, here.”

(Hello Anne-Lise.)

Some warming up. Some suspensions, but the ropes have left some deep bruises making for enjoyment-absence. A short rehearsal and then a look through the libretto. A run out the door to find beautiful Ivo waiting for me, just leaving for Sofia. We go to a bookshop and I come out with Howard Barker’s Death, The One and the Art of Theatre (as does Ivo) and Frank Dikötter’s Mao’s Great Famine.

Dasniya, Gala and Jorgos continue with some suspensions and we all trawl the snow with our boots towards the shops for food and home to talk and eat and soon eat once more.

(Addendum: Parsifal is blogging Parsifal.)

apprehending the grid apprehending the grid

whiteness escapes stage right whiteness escapes stage right

jorgos, dasniya and fire curtain jorgos, dasniya and fire curtain

audience absent theatre audience absent theatre

5, 6, 7, 8 5, 6, 7, 8

parsifal – ein bühnenweinfestspiel parsifal – ein bühnenweinfestspiel

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uferhallen at night

Apparently the fire department will come and take me down if I attempt to climb the chimney in Uferhallen. Well, it has a ladder, and with a harness and a couple of ‘biners on slings I should be safe within the relative context of the word. Photos from the pinnacle at dawn would be beautiful.

The last days it was surrounded by a silverish bulbous alien abode (or maybe Zaha Hadid was visiting); a ring around its base that last night glowed from within, even resembling the much-reduced Beijing bird’s nest stadium. Uferhallen was opening. After many long months of drilling, hammering, digging, moving piles of earth from one place to another, various loud noises associated with engineering, the studios are finished.

Berlin’s Wedding now is home to something of the size and feel of Vienna’s Arsenal; 14 studios on the south side of the street alone, for Tanzfabrik, Hochschulübergreifendes Zentrum Tanz Berlin and others, and even more vast space on the north-side.

I finally got to go into the old generator hall beneath the chimney last night and my photos really don’t do any justice. It is cavernous … and the stairwell leading to the underground labrynth … mmm I would like to venture down there for exploring and camera-ing.

Stumbled home around 1am, not too late but the week has included Osada Steve (who has beautiful red fingernails at the moment) and much Shibari, Kinbaku and other rope adventures with Dasniya, so tiredness was in order.

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uferhallen – autumn

A warm autumn afternoon yesterday with Michael, come all the way from Madrid. A morning cleaning, and more warmth of sun in the café at the gates of Uferhallen; many people wandering about on the last day of a large exhibition. I read my way through Iain M. Banks’ latest at too fast a clip, and so decide instead to attend to the photographing of the former BVG workshops.

I’ve been meaning to do this for months, and have on occasion pointed my camera somewhere, though not in the thorough manner I have planned. The Uferhallen is vast; on the north of the street, three massive long, low buildings interspersed with other buildings of various ages, as though a geologic collision across several epochs left the different architectures crushed and entangled. The further back one wanders the more this is so, pointing to the loci of impact just this side of the fence at the far end of the site.

Cut north-west to south-east, perpendicular to Uferstraße, are three main thoroughfares. The most westerly being the former parking ground and turning circle for the busses’ overnight sojourn. The middle leading to smaller workspaces and twisting alleys, and the most easterly, once passing the cavernous entrances to the machine workshops, leads back to possibly the oldest part of the area.

Of course, then there is the southern side of the street, with its massive block of generator building and accompanying chimney, and two further banks of endless workshop space.

I’d been wanting to photograph here for some time; thinking of how over three-quarters of a year last year I observed the Bötzow Brauerei and wondering what I might find here. The light today was quite beautiful, utterly clear skies, warm sun sinking slowly lower towards the horizon; I wanted to have this as a memory before turning to the more obvious greys and muted tones of late autumn and winter.

I am still limiting myself to shooting 1:1 and both black and white and colour simultaneously. I’m not sure why I don’t allow myself to venture into other aspect ratios, but something of the constraint appeals, even though the obvious distortion from the wide-angle lens at times frustrates me. Not to mention feeling distinctly clumsy and often wielding the camera like a drunken bludgeon against the object of my attention.

Today I walked through perhaps a third of the area, and turned my camera to far less, not even venturing inside. I had an idea it would be nice to do this also, somehow explore the place, insinuate myself in by virtue of the lens, show a bit of this quite special place that exists in the north of Berlin. Perhaps to be my small project for the next short while.

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sophiensäle wien

Blogging daily about Café Prückel I think I can say won’t be happening. Much busyness, running around, long days, inability to concentrate on a screen at the end and write, so…

We — Hans, Anuschka, Harold, James and I — met at Café Prückel for breakfast and to talk over some ideas for the coming week. Hans has been wanting to film a chasing scene in the forest, so after some trials in Stadtpark, we decamped towards Prater, along Marxergasse. Coming around a bend, an old, beautiful and abandoned theatre, the Sofien Saal, boarded up but perhaps perfect for some ominous spectral stalking.

We find the gate in the side street locked with a piece of thin rope, and soon find ourselves wandering the gutted interior. None of the great hall remains, only empty boxes on either side, arrayed towards a view of nothing. The grand entrance and balcony toothless and flapping with shreds of deep red velvet curtain. The floor itself a raked pit, Anuschka identifies as a swimming pool. In the dance season, it was covered, and the acoustics so superb, Decca used it as their primary recording studio for years.

It burnt nearly ten years ago, charred supports around the boxes the only clear sign of this, the blackened surfaces both washed clean and covered with the intervening seasons of erosion. It was strange to find such a place in Vienna, always the city of refinement and finish. Berlin, yes — the Sopiensäle there is a similar arrangement of destitution though with a reconfigured technic, but Berlin and the rubble of the preceding decades is still not unusual.

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return to blog

The last week has been chaotic. I came to Brussels slightly early – on Tuesday, to help with Dasniya’s Yoga and Shibari Workshop at Charleroi Danses, she arriving Thursday and some setting up in La Raffinerie, followed by three days of yokes and bindings with 20 others, and one long night of photography in an old stable somewhere south of Brussels. Yesterday some vagueness and attempts at ordering my life again, along with sorting—in a highly subjective manner, some 590 images I took over the three days. Hopefully I’ll be putting some of them up here later this week and writing about the workshop.

For now, continuing back into design work and trying to balance everything physical and computational. I’m not sure I manage this very well. Or perhaps I simply haven’t worked out how to a) sleep less, b) clone and reabsorb myself daily c) make myself attractive to wealthy philanthropists d) elongate seconds or minutes/convert former to latter/other temporal manipulations e) function in a highly regimented schedule… (and so on). I shall try though.

Mainly to say I’m feeling quite inspired at the moment, planning on a new performance, much enjoyment of reading, anxious to return to dance/climb/cycle/run/yoga and perhaps finding some progress in knee/hip/pelvis mess… Brussels for the remainder of the week, then Berlin again.

Some photos…

metro lemonnier metro lemonnier

sunset over parc forest sunset over parc forest

la raffinerie foyer - 1 la raffinerie foyer – 1

la raffinerie foyer - 2 la raffinerie foyer – 2

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there is a chimney on the other side…

… but not so much sun this spring. A view from my window in Wedding, over the BVG workshops, now becoming dance studios. The bus or tram washing hall turned into a bar, open infrequently, though last night was one. When the evening sun shines, the chocolate red brown bricks glow through a portico of spring-fresh leaves.

ufer straße across bvg workshops ufer straße across bvg workshops