Three Australians in Wuppertal, by way of Brussels, Madrid, and Berlin. Last time I was in Wuppertal it was for The Vase, one of three banging works I’ve seen this year. This time, Friday evening, it’s snowing to whiteout, Gala and Michael are talking about the headcasts they’ve had done for their upcoming work, New People. They want photos. Guess who brought their camera? Saturday morning, after a lazy breakfast and before lunch hamburgers, still snowing, the falling-apart printer’s workshops behind Michael’s apartment having their roofless concrete floors jackhammered by the owner, one of those old socialist tradie types who ends up with a bunch of properties and maintains them all himself. It’s proper winter cold, slush and snow and wetness, and he’s hauling shit around like Sisyphus. We bail into the one building with a roof. Milky glass-paned, rusting windows along one wall fill it with just enough light for us to get away with photography. There’s a temporary scaffolding floor erected, we tall ones are nearly smacking our heads on bits of pipe and beam. Their busts go on the ground, then on a plank, I photograph them like I would mediæval art.
Completely due to a tiny shuffle of one foot in a decrepit former book printer’s workshop out the back of Michael’s apartment (where the owner was totally having at it on a Saturday morning with jackhammers into concrete in the snow and freeing slush), I managed to do one of those mad meme-y gifs that look like they’re 3-dimensional. Tick-tock, back and forth, convinces me every time.
The long train from Wuppertal to Berlin. Snow, lightless, proper winter arriving.
Schwebebahn is still the best Bahn.
Sunday morning after a night of snow and three days with Gala Moody and Michael Carter doing Cie. OFEN things, eating, drinking, and much good friends time.
Sanne Cant taking Marianne Vos on last corners of 2017 UCI Cyclocross World Champs. Ice snow mud cold horrible off-cambers. Brilliant!
First winter snow. Little better than -2º training ride, sun with ragged clouds, dry powder crunch under wheels, drifts ablating to ice crust.
Finally winter. -11º, night of snow, glorious cyclocross riding through it to ballet.
Home one day early. Improbably cheap bus from beloved Wrocław to beloved Berlin through afternoon and evening, Snow departure. Snow across southern Poland. Snow and darkness in Germany. Two weeks before, Budapest to Kraków, another bus. Those photos were better. I was trying to do what I remembered from then, the combination of dirty and tinted glass, dim light, snow, cold air, interior light reflection. My memory was of them far more abstract. Another thing, then I was photographing towards the sun, this time the sun was on my front-left and I was photographing to the right or at most front-right. Still, a couple of them have something interesting for me. I had a strange daydream of spending winter on budget busses going back and forth across the Carpathians just so I could get the right dirty windows to photograph through.