Built with Berta

  1. THIS COFFEE CUP, THIS KNIFE, THIS FORK
    2019 / 2020, collages, mixed materials on paper, sizes vary from A5 to A2

    I created a series of approximately 450 collages. The collages combine paper cut shapes, elements of drawings and textual excerpts. The latter are exclusively borrowed bits and phrases  from ‘The Waves’, a novel by Virginia Woolf. Reassembling them, new sentences are construed. 

    This series of collages are somehow doubled representations; in the interaction between language and image. Figurative and abstract languages intersect. In the same way as the word “characters” serve for fictional figures and for letters, all pieces on the page push, shift and balance interpretation. In the course of making the series, words repeated themselves and the pattern of these arising elements, became the starting point for reading the collages as a script for a performance. 

     

     

  2. "The gentlemen answer the question like a fling of seed.

  3. foundly unconscious.

  4. I am like a log slipping where?

  5. now by their dirty fingers

  6. I cannot keep myself together. I shall sleep.

  7. Must go, must sleep, must wait, must get up - sober

  8. cars race and roar
    I am alone in a hostile world.
    This is to my liking. 

  9. An army marches across Europe.

  10. Let me sit here fot ever with bare things, this coffee-cup, this knife, this fork, things in themselves, myself being myself. 

  11. Look now, how everybody passes, yes. And we grow old. 

  12. stood shaving, the drop fell. I, standing with my razor in

  13. I say, what is abstract, absurd, perched on a great horse.
    But for how long?
    : there will be new

     

  14. "Oh no, no," he said, taking the basket of grapes, but thinking that he must not say that he loved her.

  15. I thought, 'I cannot interfere with a stroke of those brooms. They sweep and they sweep. Nor stop gardeners sweeping nor skeletons.

     

  16. I am round apple on the curtain.

  17. Things have dropped from me. I have outlived certain walks across the land and the aquaducts and the sea, then again more land, spearing fish by the light of a naked man eating raw flesh in the jungle, so gifted as at one time seemed likely. I am not the gutter.