Fare rete con la rete

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TransJesus Belgrade

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Marina Abramovic in Belgrade

boing boing

/ JASMINA TESANOVIC / 10:44 AM FRI SEP 6, 2019

Marina Abramovic in Belgrade

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I have always liked Marina Abramovic, from her earliest works to the latest ones.

Many who knew her in the legendary early years of bitter struggle now resent her grand fame and success. They consider her commercialized, cosmopolitan, a celebrity artist recycling proven successes, but they’re all wrong. This is mere snob activity.
It’s possible to be the cliched, true artist who is permanently poor, pure, and out of touch with the entire material world, but art snobs never notice or praise these people. They’re too busy attacking Marina for not being like that. Oscar Wilde used to point out that snobs are a useful motor of society, propelling the fame machine by loudly including, excluding, over-praising and denouncing. Women artists might even get snobbishly confined to small pedestals and defined as muses rather than real artists.

But snobs will always lack Marina’s creativity and painful brilliance. I appreciate Marina’s direct and sharp attitude towards fame, glory, wealth, the female body and universal death. She confronts complex issues directly, in the world as it is, instead of accepting trends at face value. Her work will be noticed, disciples will follow her, but by that time she will already be elsewhere.

The grandma of performance art, as she calls herself, will soon be playing Maria Callas, the diva of opera, in her most famous death scenes. At Maria’s age, and with the portfolio and life-histories of Marina-and-Maria, I feel sure that is not only the best way, but the only way. Marina Abramovic and Yoko Ono are my role models for female living artists who have transcended the many threats of fame and glory, and prevailed over suffering.

So, Marina is returning to Belgrade

In September, after 45 years of exile, like a much-condemned heretic witch finally accepted as a goddess. At long last, a proper, large-scale show in the museum of modern art on the Danube, with a welcome from plenty of celebrities, friends and of course politicians. Naturally her long-time local foes and critics will be there to wave national flags.

This show will be a performance in and of itself: life is art and art is life, the conceptualist credo. In this case, a kind of Warhol ghost of the art-is-life of the former Yugoslavia, the Belgrade of Marina’s youth, that underground stage like an art-factory, neglected, obscure, weird, where three artists performed for an audience of two, and all recording was forbidden… This show will have the melancholy grandeur of the last volume of Proust’s memoirs of lost time.

Will these artists recognize others, see themselves after the wars, the gossip, the death of a nation, of a lost social order? Will they have the courage to say hello and goodbye to their past?

We will see!

I will be there, watching from the second row, while Marina will perform the story of her life, as she always does. When I last met her in Torino Italy, she offered a deeply sentimental speech which ended in tears, about her artistic credo. She said: I believe in telepathy, not in technology. Today she is doing some tech art, so I wonder how things have progressed with the telepathy. I am willing to trust her instinct even when she is wrong! Creatives are never exact, they are just daring.

In her recent public “Letter to Serbia,” the cover story for a local magazine, she says: I worked and lived in Belgrade for 29 years. I was coming back only to visit family. My last personal show here was 45 years ago. Now almost half a century later, I want to show, especially to the new generations, what I did all these years. And I want them to understand through my work how important it is to risk, how important it is to have seen the big picture and to have big dreams, notwithstanding everything.

In that public letter, she speaks about the importance of failed projects in order to find the path as an artist, about the need not to abandon the impossible. (I was already making a list of favorite projects that “failed,” the second-prize winners of shows that I curated. How often, with time, the second-prize reveals itself to be more prescient, more forward-looking and inventive, than the first prize that seemed such a clear winner).

Marina talks about her luck in discovering early on that performance is her way through art, either once, for a small public, or, today with an attentive worldwide audience. Especially, long performances can have the transformative energy of life itself. Performance is a living art, not a recording, like video or text. A performance can be re-enacted by other people, but they will be living it, not creating the artwork.

Marina says if she paid attention to what was written about her all these years, she would never have left her room. At age sixty, though, she proved that all she needs is a room, along with a couple of chairs. That was the famous performance “The Artist is Here” at the Museum of Modern Art, where she sat in a room and registered her presence, eye to eye, with her public. For days on end that other chair was never empty.

The Marina Abramovic show in Belgrade will be her biggest retrospective ever, and she is close to a popular sensation in contemporary Serbia. After decades of studiously pretending that she didn’t exist and had no significance, everybody knows and quotes her name, from politicians to the handyman. She and Novak Djokovic are the queen and king of the updated Serbian national image.

This art and sports mania may have an unhealthy air of Serbian royalty above the common unwashed herd, but I think we should embrace good news about Serbian culture, when it occurs. The Museum of Modern Art on the Danube has been a decaying ruin for years, but is recently re-opened as a beautiful space and place. So why not enjoy the Marina Olympics?

I happen to be a Serbian expatriate myself, the notorious activist and artist of a wretched Balkan country beset with too much history, but I can cheerfully admit that Marina Abramovic is global art-world royalty, and even Novak Djokovic can really whack a tennis ball. Who knows what the next, still-nameless Marina Abramovic is doing right now in her overlooked niche-space, somewhere in the cracks of the walls of our 21st century? In Belgrade a street artist can be a fairy queen, and only from the outskirts one can see the center. Only from a distance one can hit the target.

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Opstanak

http://revija.kolubara.info/sh/nova/tekst/3164/Opstanak.htm?fbclid=IwAR3-onGwODp-viKRXWMGx939cX99dxMStxtnU1J5JK6Tnhy6V_J7Pilw5sA

Sedim na vrhu brda i ne radim nista: nirvana, zen budizam, opuštanje mišića i bez misli. Oko mene samo šumske životinje, brze i vredne, za razliku od mene. To je njihov svet, ja sam im došla u goste. Gamižu mravi, veliki, poneki i polete: čuveni divčibarski mravi koji su nam pojeli krov od kuće. Zato sada i sedim na miru u trenutku u kome je nestala i struja, da ne pominjem kako su nam pre neki dan pukle cevi od vodovoda, zatim crkao bojler i veš masina.

Sve je to normalno i uobičajeno za ovo mesto sa mikroklimom usred mikroklime ruže vetrova gde su moji roditelji pre pedesetak godina podigli vikendicu, 77 kvadrata po JUS-u, ali opremljenu kao vasionski brod. Moja mama je bila pedijatar a moj otac inžinjer: pokrivali su svojim stilom i znanjem jedno veliko polje zvano preživljavanje, komotno, čak luksuzno.

Olivetti, ćirilični
Olivetti, ćirilični

Izgradili su i agregat za struju, jer struja često ovde nestaje, grejanje na struju i naftu, imali su malu ambulantu jer nije bilo javne i malu radionicu. Postali su poznati kao SOS centar za hitne slučajeve, a za vreme bobardovanja 1999. bili su određeni za generalštab na Divčibarama.

Lepo, teško i opet lepo. Dok sedim besposlena od silnog posla i truli krov mi pada nad glavom, pokušavam da racionalizujem kako se valja osloboditi tog materijalnog i emotivnog bremena danas, toliko godina kasnije, u nekim drugim okolnostima opet emergentnim kao sto su globalno zagrevanje, potrošačko drustvo i njegov raspad, ekološka kriza ili katastrofa. Šta sačuvati, šta baciti? Mudrost dizajnera Karima Rašida: Sačuvati iz prošlosti samo stvari:

koje imaju emotivnu vrednost
koje funkcinišu efikasno i svakodnevno
koje su lepe
Ostalo je otpad protoka vremena i balast pojedincu, od palate do kolibe.

Decenijama sakupljano
Decenijama sakupljano

I dok mirišem ovo malo vazduha magično čistog, iako proređenog, prustovski mi se vraćaju scene protoka vremena na ovom mestu, od ljudi do reči i događaja, predmeta čak. Ali onda shvatam da se neke stvari uopšte i nisu promenile: taj jak miris šume koji zagađuje i najmanji auto u daljini, i ti zvukovi kao simfonija sa naletima potpune tišine. Naravno, veverice, mravi, pauci, bube, žabe, ptice kukavice… tu su, nekako iste, možda su večna reinkarnacija uvek jedne te iste… Moj majstor na krovu, na pitanje šta da radimo protiv mrava koji su nam pojeli kuću, odgovara smireno: ništa, oni su tu više od vas.

Priv pasoš i to diplomatski
Priv pasoš i to diplomatski

Ta tišina i zvuci koji me plaše jer priroda više nije prirodna nama urbanima iz velikih prljavih gradova sada postaje čudo prirode, i eto neko se setio i ovde na Divčibarama da po ko zna koji put oproba sreću da podeli prirodu sa urbanima. I ranije je ovde bilo nekog pre svega seoskog i dečjeg turizma: godine 1984. u februaru bili smo zavejani sa gomilom dečice u hotelu Maljen nekoliko stotine metara od moje kuće i bacali su nam iz helikoptera keks i biskvite. Nekoliko nedelja smo bili pod metrima snega, ali na divnom suncu posle vejavice, bez struje, bez vode, na skijama, na pivskim gajbama pod nogama da ne propadnemo kad izadjemo kroz prozor iz kuće da lovimo hranu i vodu…Ovih godina zavejanost se rešava brže nego tada, poslednjih godina često i nema snega na Divčibarama ali zato ima mnogo vise žičara, kioska za iznajmljivanja opreme, i svega ostalog potrošackog, vruće rakije na stazama i domaćinske kuhinje, zaista domaćinske i ponekad zaboravljene tj izumrle.

Sada kada na svakom ćošku vidim neko novo zdanje, kada busevi voze na svakih nekoliko sati, kada postoji vozić koji kruzi planinom, kada postoji čak i Mountain festival muzike i etno svega… pitam se, šta bih volela da nestane, a šta da ostane. Opet prustovsko pitanje s obzirom na to da ne zavisi od mene, ali možda ima neke veze i sa mnom, tj. sa svima nama koji smo ovde već nekoliko decenija. Moja ćerka je ovde odrasla i nije bilo mnogo igračaka i provoda, osim konja i šetnji i lopte i ljuljaške; deca su bila iz lokalnih odmarališta, delila su skije i sendviče, a uveče išli u čuvenu Maljen diskoteku! Recimo to je ostalo nekako isto i ne bih ga menjala jer tako nečega nema nigde na svetu, to nije etno turizam niti eko turizam, to je šta jeste, identitet? Neka Divčibare ostanu Divčibare s tim naglaskom ljudi koji ako se ne varam odjednom postaje sličan naglasku mladih ljudi koji žive u Beogradu! Neka nestane i nestaje zatvorenost, provincijalizam, strah i nepoverenje koji su svi zajedno kao neka magla zamućivali perspektivu Divčibara.

Klabing u Valjevu
Klabing u Valjevu

Magla prava, koja su zapravo niski oblaci, neka pobedi zamagljenost uma i duha. Sećam se Žike Pavlovića čija deca i unuci još uvek dolaze u porodičnu kuću ovde na Divčibarama, kako me je vodio kroz tu maglu po uskim puteljcima pričajuci o Dragoslavljevoj rakiji najboljoj na planini, lokalnim celebrities i njihovim šumskim navikama. Sedeli smo do duboko u noć pijući i pričajući o stvarima koje se samo na Divčibarama mogu iskazati. What goes on in Divčibare stays in Divčibare. U Beogradu bi smo se ta ista ekipa samo ljubazno pozdravljali na ulici, izvan te magle, bez Dragoslavljeve rakije. Obični ljudi iako celebrities na Divčibarama u tim sedeljkama postajali su mitske ličnosti sa čuvenim rečenicama koje i dandanas pamtim: povodom istorijskih događaja dalekih ili budućih, od ratova do nacionalizma, smene vlasti, ubistava političara i novinara. Nikad neću do kraja shvatiti koliko od toga što sam čula zaista jeste bilo istina, ali znam sigurno da je tu bilo više istine u magli nego u javnosti. Još uvek sklapam mozaik sad već minulih događaja i ljudi koje je stvarnost opovrgla ili podržala. Good and bad guys čije se uloge lako smenjuju.

Alfred Hičkok i Jasmina Tešanović početkom 70ih u Milanu
Alfred Hičkok i Jasmina Tešanović početkom 70ih u Milanu

I čekajući i dalje da mi dođe struja, da se vratim kućnim poslovima, ribanju zarđalih polica, da se vrati signal mobilne telefonije i interneta i kontakta sa celim svetom gde sada i ja živim, gde žive svi moji mili i dragi…čekam i pomišljam, a šta ako ovo potraje? Ko zna zašto bi to bilo dobro, jednoga dana će ljudi plaćati sve više da ovako nešto potraje: splendid isolation i povratak prirodi. Zapravo već negde to i traže da sačuvaju. Dok Amazon gori nemoćno na drugom kraju naše izmaltretirane planete pomislih – možda je i dobro što Divčibare nemaju uvek struju.

Jasmina Tešanović je književnica i aktivistkinja, rođena u Beogradu.divcibare

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TransJesus in Prishtina

TransJesus Prishtina from Jasmina Tesanovic on Vimeo.

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DRUG-CA ZENA, SKC BELGRADE 1978

RAW FOOTAGE FROM THE FIRST INTERNATIONAL FEMINIST CONFERENCE IN EASTERN EUROPE , BELGRADE 1978
DRUG-ca ZENA, prva feministicka konferencija izvan zapada, kod nas u Beogradu SKC. Bila sam jedna od organizatorki i snimala: materjal je stajao u garazi, razmagnetisale su se trake, Sony trakas portable sistem sam kupila tada koji me je kostao vise nego da sam polozila kredit za stan! Onda nedavno dobre vile, al profesionalne, iz Friulija su mi trazile da prebace u nov format sve sto je ostalo od mojih traka, za dokumentaciju njihovu i nasu! Evo Drug-ca zena snimak…mnoge zene su umrle, neke nestale…slika je losa, al ton je dobar…materijal nije montiran…za sada stoji samo kao dokument
DRUG-ca Zena arhiv

Dunja Blazevic otvaranje Drug-ca Zena I, SKC 1978 from Jasmina Tesanovic on Vimeo.
DRUG-CA Zena II, Studentski kulturni centar, Beograd 1978/ 2 from Jasmina Tesanovic on Vimeo.
DRUG-CA III- SKC 1978 Beograd from Jasmina Tesanovic on Vimeo.
Drug CA ZENA 3 part 1 from Jasmina Tesanovic on Vimeo.
DRUG CA ZENA 3 part 2 from Jasmina Tesanovic on Vimeo.

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Ljubav je u sustini govorljivost: Nefertiti

The best art is lost art, recovered intro to my lost sony tape movie

Ljubav je u sustini govorljivost, 1978 Belgrade from Jasmina Tesanovic on Vimeo.
I made a remake in 2003
Nefertiti je bila ovde from Jasmina Tesanovic on Vimeo.

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