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10:41 p.m. - June 29, 2002 Today I went to Haus der Kunst, which is an awesome museum with rotating art exhibits. This means that there's always different art exhibits all the time--however, only two of them were open today. One was the Grosse Kunst Ausstellung M�nchen, which basically was a huge collection of modern art (after Pinothek der Moderne opens, this collection will move there). The other exhibit was by this Canadian guy named Jana Sterbak. Maybe it's a woman, I don't know. In any case, it has got to be one of the weirdest art collections I've seen. I'll start with the main collection because that was the first I saw. Anyway, no great feelings of awe, as with the Van Goghs or the Rubens in the Pinotheks, but rather, this sort of feeling of amazement that people can do this and get away with it. Although there were some pretty amazing weird modern art things, like this pigments of colors in the thickest slabs of paraffin--that was cool. Or some photographs. I sat down and watched a fifteen minute short film by an artist named Silke Witzsch called Passing-Crossing Over the Color Line which was fascinating, I suppose, in this Andy Warhol-voyeuristic way. Basically, the artist videotaped a black woman riding the New York subway from Brooklyn to Grand Central. I was just so fascinated. It was one of the most mundane things I've seen but it was also pretty cool in its own way. This girl, as she was riding the subway was putting on face powder. First, she put on powder that was close to her skin color, which was a dark coffee brown. After different train stops, she'd take out a compact and put on more face powder. However, as more hispanic or white people (by the end, lots of white people), she'd put on lighter and lighter makeup. Throughout all of this, I was thinking to myself. Wow. That's pretty cool. In a way, it could be seen as some sort of social statement, that sometimes, we adjust ourselves to fit in with the majority. In this case, she dampens her "blackness" to fit in, or to be more acceptable, in the world above ground. I also thought of things I learned in my Phonetic Transcription class from college--there is Black English and something like...Black Standard English (I forget the name. Unfortunately, I do not have my textbook with me). Basically, the phoneticians (sp?) said that there is a standard dialect of English that is spoken by African-Americans, which is close to being Standard American English (but with some accent/dialect, however is still fairly acceptable to the ears of white America, I suppose). And then there's the Black dialect or something, which has its own idiosyncracies or something. So in my textbook, it also said sometimes African Americans will switch between both dialects, depending on whom they are speaking with. (ie, Standard Black English with professors at Yale and Black English with friends). I may be giving the dialects the wrong name, but I think you understand what I mean! Anyway, that was part of what was going through my head; the adjustments we all make to try and be "acceptable" to others (ie, ways of dressing, perhaps the words we choose to use, behavior, etc.) Anyway. I think I'll move on now ;). I was also looking at these art exhibits and dreaming up designs for silk-screening. I don't know how to silk screen, but I would like to learn how after I get home. I have a few ideas, and some of the prints and paintings I saw in the exhibit have given me wonderful ideas, since I'm frustrated at not being able to find shirts I like. Anyway. The other exhibit, the one with Jana Sterbak--that was just plain weird. The standouts were this case with some crickets in it, and some ivory things. And there was a little thing that said that they were actual fighting crickets. At first I thought that maybe they were well-sculpted crickets because none of them moved. Then I saw an antenna move. That was just weird. And there was some sort of sign near the entrance talking about how Sterbak also would go to differnt exhibits and eat a suit. I'm talking like a wool dress suit. That just scared me. At first I thought maybe it was a joke, but the more art works of this guy I saw, I think it's for real. Here's another example. He made a dress out of meat. Granted, the dress was all dried out, but there was a picture of the model wearing this fresh steak dress. I could only think: How much did they pay that model to wear that dress? Those are just the tip of the iceberg. Those are the ones I will remember. After I finished off the exhibit, I went to look at the postcards and posters that were on sale--lucky me--they were selling posters of the advertisements for different exhibits, so I bought my favorite: Pruderie und Leidenschaft (Prudery and Passion), which I think was a collection of artwork in the Victorian era, depicting passion or something. Anyway, I didn't see the exhibit. It's a great poster, with this statue of a naked greek god type guy, with an orange circle with the name of the exhibit over the part that, in the Victorian age, had better been covered. The other is a poster advertising a Kurt Schwitters exhibit. For those of you who don't know, Kurt Schwitters was one of the founding members of the Dada art movement. Ironically, the Haus der Kunst was founded by the Nazis. Even more ironic to me is that one of the very first, if not the first, art exhibits was that of the Dada movement, which rebelled against government during the Weimar Republic. Basically, this movement was anti-art, anti-establishment, anti-everything. (However, within the Dada group, it still was a pretty elitist group with its own rules). When I bought my posters and postcards--I had been talking to the guy in German the whole time--right when I bought my tickets to the exhibits, telling him what posters I wanted, and asking him some questions, and he always answered me in German. He spoke clearly and slowly enough that I could understand--I think he spoke just as measured with the other visitors. As he handed me my posters, in this German accent, he goes, "Thank you very much." I suppose that as much as I think of myself as being pretty integrated into Munich life now, there are still moments when people remind me that my native language is English. It could also be because I don't look German. Or maybe with tourist season...I find that more salespeople speak English, which is sort of sad to me. At least I won't have to suffer through the entire tourist season. I'll just go back to having worsening German in USA instead of Germany, thank you very much. I did manage to see Bella Martha, a German-Italian movie about a chef. It was pretty good. Light, fluffy, not film material, but a good movie. The most noteworthy moment came when I turned into one of those people I despise most. My cell phone rang. Dang. Normally I have my phone set to vibrate, but apparently I had it switched over to Vibrate & Ring, and I forgot all about it. I felt really stupid. I was a bit flustered about this. At first I thought it was great that there were actually a ton of people in the theater, as opposed to Tanguy, but at that point, I think I would have rather been the only person in the theater... The other bad part of watching this movie was that because the main character is a chef, a lot of the scenes took place in the kitchen of a restaurant. So I was getting pretty hungry. As a result, I was thinking of getting a D�ner Kebap at the Kebap stand outside my dorm, but when I got there, it was closed. Dang. And I didn't want to wait for another subway and walk around to find a Kebap stand. So I had pesto tonight. Anyway, I think the Kebap stand may have been closed today because of the World Cup (Turkey-South Korea). I'm guessing Turkey won, because there were people driving, waving Turkish flags. I could be wrong, but in any case, he wasn't there at his Kebap stand. Maybe when Luana comes, she'll want a Kebap. I'll let you know if we ate Kebaps. I'll let you know how Salzburg was. If I actually could carry a tune, I'd sing Do Re Mi or Edelweiss in Salzburg. In any case, I'll let you know what happens. I've to tidy up my kitchen, because I'll forget tomorrow--I've to get up at 5 AM or thereabouts, so I can get to the train station on time--the trains run less on Sundays. Good night, now...
What Type of Villain are You? mutedfaith.com / <�>
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