Rotes Haus – Repräsentanten der Nacht, 2008 im Kunstraum Kreuzberg, kuratiert von Lena Braun: etwa 20 Künstler_innen äußern sich zum „Moloch“ Berlin, zur Nacht in der Großstadt.
Ich arbeite mit den just entstandenen Bildern von Prinzessin Hans und der Assoziation zu Shakespeares Sommernachtstraum: Berlin als Zauberwald, in dem die Geister der Nacht ihr Wesen treiben. Couleur Café au lait. Fassadengrau. Großstadtsumpf. Und in diesem Sumpf gedeihen „strange flowers“. Großstadtpflanzen. Repräsentanten der Nacht. Eine Parallelwelt, in der mensch das scheinbar sichere Wissen über Männer* und Frauen* besser gleich an der Tür abgibt.
(Kolja Reichert war das eine lobende Bemerkung wert.)
Leider habe ich den Text von Cayetano doch nicht mehr verwenden können; es ging um – natürlich – Klischees über Berlin, Künstler und Künstler in Berlin:
As a matter of fact, when I first came to Berlin I did not plan to stay that long. But then I installed myself pretty well on the sofa in Norbert’s guest room and totally forgot about moving on. Usually I picked him up at his studio in the evening and took him out for supper to some place in Prenzlauer Berg. At that time, Nan was in Berlin, too, celebrating some Berlinale event. We decided to meet at Berghain. So I wasted a second thought on my outfit and cut my toe nails before I called a taxi. All right! At the door, I set eyes on Sven and immediately fell in love. I knew that I might be made to remember my audacity if I would dare to ask him out, so I stayed with Nan and her crowd and conquered my transports of love by means of liquor abuse entailed by heavy flirting and kissing.
The next day, I decided to think no more of this night’s accidents but as the fierce vexations of a dream. But funnily enough, I ran into Sven again the following day on my way to Borchard’s, where I was meant to meet Jonathan and some of his collectors. I blushed violently and only managed to cast a shy little smile on him. Well, to cut a long story short, Sven was part of my appointment, and this evening proved to be the beginning of a wonderful liaison.
During summertime, we used to hang around at the Wagenburg and I was tempted by the thought of getting a mobile home for myself. But then I moved into a squatted house, where I felt like a sort of urban adventurer struggling with the Ofenheizung and the labyrintic catacombes of the coal cellar.
Times were changing in Prenzlauer Berg. The wonderful couleur café au lait vanished, the bullet holes from world war two were mended, and the little bakeries and corner pubs were replaced by sushi bars and broker shops. A rude awakening of the sleeping beauty it was.
After I got badly hurt by a hurled bottle during Walpurgisnacht at Helmholtzplatz, I spent more time in Kreuzberg. Klara had moved as well, but Judy intended to stay in Mitte. Sadly enough, I missed the „doing gender“ show at basso, because Hans-Ulrich desired my being present at his opening, but I luckily ran into Sherry who dropped in from New York. So we sang our hearts out at Ronson’s before ending up in the Rote Rose.
Currently, I’m doing lots of research for my next performance, a co-production with John. We are planning to spend the summer evenings sitting outside the Bierhimmel developing our project, entitled „All stars (18 m)“.
Cayetano van Cypher de Railleur