Text über Musik, Raum, Gestaltung und Kunst. Fotos.

Imaginary Joy Division, barely audible in the background of Pro Quadratmeter, now in Almstadtstraße1, as the empty streets of this particular, unglamourous apocalypse remain wind-swept and rainy. Jackpot. Ich kaufe Miamification von Avanessian, so ein Stream-of-Consciousness-Ding bei Merve. Das scheint mir die einzig mögliche Handlung. (13. März)

  1. Seen from my inner 2005.
Rick Owens FW20 Performa, Womens

Architectural Travel Notes, Morocco

Wind over water at the unornamented mirror lake of Menara Gardens. Built afar, adjacent the olive grove, by an imagined beduin cult of brutalist worshippers.

There is no photographic image, no advertisement, no glowing condensed corporate typography. Buildings seem to emerge directly from the reddish-brown ground, molding into soft cubes and boxes. The cityscape does not pry for attention, its decidedly nonmodern psychogeography seamlessly merges into a pastoral sprawl inflated to vast dimension and density.

I have a great affection for cats, as all tasteful and self-respecting humans do. Particularly, I cherish their arcane capability to offer a particular kind of intense, but silent companionship. Observing a city beneath a full moon, low and heavy, in quiet unison with a cat is a privilege quite uncomparable to anything else.

Palais el Badi: Afroeuropean Mythologies

A gleaming S-Class in black and chrome is parked next to a reddish clay wall, passed by a kid on a creaking bicycle and a handsome old man in a grey kaftan (I take special note of his accurately groomed, short grey beard). The limousine’s presence marks the place as psychogeographic science fiction. It is an intruder, an object from another time and universe, one I seem to be strangely familiar with: NFC readers, softly organic trainers, caftans, dust, cooked wool, satellite dishes, Buckydomes, walled gardens, fliphones, iPhones, hairstyles, all somehow materializing in an unexpected kind of 2020.

Urban Moroccan housing defaults to a subtle ledge starting on the first floor. It offers shade to the life in the street, increases the size of the living quarters (ground floors are mostly used for storage or workshops) and lends an element of decided, simple ornamentation to the otherwise plain cube. This is usually mirrored by the roof construction: the top floor is reduced to about a third of the ground floor area, creating a large terrace. From this, the shape of the residential unit emerges: a soft-edged rectangular box, defined by two interrelating incisions.

A bed in the desert, nature in perfect silence. There is the soft sound of flocks of small puffy birds passing overhead, and a warm breeze. Sun sets over the ranges, the desaturated Atlas mountains loom in the background. Life is forced into equilibrium. Many ways to go from here. (02/10/20)

In Casablanca, architecture appears to be more substance than artefact. It seems to bee perpetually melting, flaking, merging with nature and civilisation. Many buildings echo a faint Art Deco heritage, misunderstood even by the foreigners that brought it to these parts. Since, the idea of the graceful line seems to have evolved into something more organic, matching northern African sensibilities and energies. Here, the new and modern appears as just another iteration, reintegrated into the profoundly social mechanics of the medinas and markets, all refinement reserved for two-storey courtyards, areas of consultation and quietness.

What would you go to Casablanca for? For two days? — Ingrid


On wearing wide black T-shirts with cut-off sleeves: Without sleeves, arms are bared, especially the pleasing section extending from the bicep, along the elbow to forearm. A wide, sleeveless shirt turns the upper body into a two-dimensional form – essentially a square – suggesting a mild inhuman abstraction and a graphical presence. Cutting the sleeves marks permanent ownership of the garment through inflicting it with personal codes and obsessions. Forcefully removing the sleeves adds an element of rawness, a camp brutality. It also ensures uniformity with other garments that have been treated similarly. Wide, black T-shirts with cut-off sleeves are the personal uniform covering my slender frame.

All your City lies in Dust

Am letzten Tag der Dekade steht die Sonne tief, waagerecht zu den letzten schwarzen Oberflächen des Jahres 2019. So muss das sein, Echo einer Erinnerung an den Blick aus Kriesse’s Fenster in den Nuller Jahren. 2019 war ein Jahr mit hoher Dichte, das war klar, als es sich vor einer Ewigkeit über den Dächern der Stadt ausbreitete.

Die Konstanten in diesem Jahr waren Bewegung und Arbeit. Das war erwartet und geplant, und in der Kombination schöner und härter als vorgestellt. Ich habe in einem Hotelzimmer über Wilshire gearbeitet, in Garagen an den Westküsten der USA und Portugals, in einem Haus aus Holz am Tegernsee, auf einer Dachterasse über dem Beton Marseilles. Am Schreibtisch einer kolonialen Stube in Ho Chi Minh City, in einem sonnigen Innenhof in Paris. Neben dem Ofen in einer Scheune in Brandenburg. In Betten, Zügen, Nächten. An welchen Ort ich gelangte, Arbeit war bereits dort.

Vieles später: Los Angeles und seine Schatten, Sport1, Staples, Alkohol, schwarz weiß. Rave, Nebel Nebel, Love in a Basement. Eupalinos und die Wahrheit und Demut, die mich Web Design as Architecture gelehrt hat. Gebäude in Marseille, Rue Marengo. SEGMENT oder die Freude, Willen in Präsenz zu verwandeln. Wahre Partnerschaft. My life as perpetual experimental proof that a life can be lived this particular way.

Selbstdisziplin und Intensität sind berauschend, und berauschende Dinge darf man nicht übertreiben, sonst spürt man sie nicht. In den 2020er Jahren muss das Verschwinden gelernt werden. Langsamkeit, Intervall, den Kick der Disziplin rationalisieren. Mit den Jahren wird klar, dass diese Worte nicht das Gegenteil der Agenda sind, sondern ihr Endgame. Totale Intensität und völlige Ruhe als Einheit der Differenz, しんずい, following the material and guiding it at the same time, until coherence emerges organically. Musik kurz davor, am Ende der Zehner Jahre.







  1. I never lost my adoration for the lessons the sport taught me, about resilience and grace, about humbleness, the american myth of hard work, about getting up and not blaming anyone but your own body and mind.
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