Re-Magazine #11 (Marcel)
Puking... or how to upset my brain and stomach by eating brain and stomach, and twenty-four other favorite recipes...
When I was a child I once mistook a cowpie in my aunt’s barn for cooked spinach. It took me a long time to stop hating spinach. Once I was really ill for two days from a rancid canard a l'orange leftover, and it was years before I could shake the memory of it. But experiences like these shaped my sense of taste. If all you’re trying to do with food is make it nice and tasty then you are literally doing yourself short. There’s a fine line between full-flavored but appetizing and full-flavored but nauseating. It’s exciting to seek out that boundary. Tasty is not enough; I want it all.
Once I ate a raw chicken breast. They were packed in pairs and I only needed one for the recipe. It tasted pretty okay, a bit like sashimi. Since then I’ve developped a love for raw food. Why is a raw carrot acceptable, but not a raw egg? You can experience completely new flavours and textures when you experiment with cooking times - the whole spectrum from raw to charred. An raw egg has an extraordinary slitheriness. You don’t even have to swallow; it finds its own way to your throat. At first you taste nothing, but after that the animal-protein taste hangs at the back of your throat for a long time.
Caramel is just burnt sugar, and the level of burning determines the bitterness. Once I was busy making caramel for a croquembouche – a tower of cream-filled profiteroles with threads of angel-hair caramel spun around it – when the doorbell rang. It was someone collecting for the Heart Foundation with a brochure giving tips on how to lower your cholesterol. I ended up in a discussion until the point when a cloud of black smoke came floating into the hall. The pan was completely black, and for two days the house smelled of burnt sugar, but I finished making the croquembouche. I dipped the profiteroles in the tarry mass, stacked them, and then wrapped black caramel threads around them. Then I dusted it with icing sugar. It looked fancy, but you could have easily chipped a tooth on the rock-hard caramel. The sweetness of the profiteroles and the cream clashed with the bitterness of the burnt sugar. It was as if cancer were spreading right there in my mouth.
Omelette de truffes
Burnt food has a powerful taste, but this is also relative. Charcharis are Bengali vegetable dishes that combine three cooking procedures: boiling, steaming and frying. Though other cuisines in the world use the same procedures, and in similar sequence, only the charcharis are brought to the point of charring. I never had it, but I once ate an entire burnt Omelette de Truffes. The top half was still good, but the bottom was completely black. The good part and the burnt part merged to become a third, more bitter flavour that had a sweet vanilla tinge. It was unpleasant, but I imagined that this was a delicacy and ate it anyway.
Eating directly from the pan is a completely different experience to eating from a plate at a neatly set dinner table. Eating with a dessertspoon is quite different to shoving the food into your mouth with a serving spoon that barely fits in your mouth. The spoon stretches the corners of your mouth and the food is only defined by the amount you can fit in. Not at the table, but standing at the counter. Not warm, but cold. It’s amazing how a delicious boeuf bourguignon can turn into a pan of cold meat with a yellow layer of congealed fat that has separated from the rest and breaks when you push a spoon through it. Eating out of the pan can be just as satisfying as being served a piping hot meal by candlelight in the company of good friends.
Dorade rose en croûte de sel
I visited a restaurant that had been given 9.5 out of 10 by a local critic. The food was okay, but definitely overrated. People were joking that the man had never given a restaurant less than a 7.5 since he’d started taking Prozac. The antipasti were good, but certainly not sublime. I already had a feeling of unfulfilled expectations when this was followed by the arrival of the dorade en croûte de sel. The waiter began to serve the fish with indifference, tapping the salt crust around the fish with the back of a spoon. Part of the salt crust ended up on my plate along with the fish, which should not have happened because it ruined the taste of the dorade. I picked at the salt crust on my plate and ate it. About one heaping dessertspoon. I felt how the salt sucked up my saliva, my taste buds were paralyzed and everything in my mouth and my head was contracting as if my brains were shrivelling up right inside my skull. When my mouth was full of salty saliva, I swilled it back and forth in my mouth for a a few minutes, which is a traditional cure for the blisters which you can get from exhaustion or a vitamin deficiency. Eventually I swallowed it – with great difficulty. Then I ate the rest of the dorade, which was quite bland, and I left without taking a dessert or coffee.
Although my mouth was parched and I was extremely thirsty when I returned home, I was curious what would happen if I consumed even more salt. I took another full dessert spoon of salt from the pot. It was so salty, my mouth couldn’t even produce any more saliva. I forced myself not to spit, but to swallow. The undissolved salt got stuck to the back of my throat and oesophagus. I ended up nearly choking. It was as if I had eaten a mouthful of sand. I then began to drink one glass of water after another, but the salty taste persisted. It was terrible and wonderful at the same time, and in some strange way physically exhausting. I had eaten about 30 grams of salt, only five times the recommended daily allowance. Committing suicide can be very easy: one kilo of salt is all it takes.
Harissa de Tunisie
I come from a big family, and if there was a wedding, there were always a couple of uncles who having drunk far too much would hold a harissa-eating competition at the end of the night. The chili paste would turn them a fiery red. They started to sweat like pigs, and tears rolled down their cheeks. I always wanted to take part, but I wasn’t allowed. I practiced secretly at home with peppercorns. I popped a couple in my mouth and chewed them until my mouth was on fire and I got a sharp stinging feeling in my nose. Nowadays I can eat as much harissa as I want to. If you eat a jar of Harissa you’ll get a pain in your stomach. Stomach cramps from black pepper settles further down and they can also cause discomfort when you open your bowels. Stomach pain from vinegar or citric acid sits much higher up. And too much onion or cabbage produces wind in the intestines.
Pommes de terre
I think potatos in their skins are very depressing to look at. So prehistoric, like a denial of every sign of progress. What in heaven’s name does a potato have to do with the microwave I use to prepare it? Nothing at all. I’ve made a habit of swallowing pommes parisiennes without chewing. I’ve also eaten a hardboiled egg whole. A potato swallowed whole can make your chest extremely tight, especially if it’s still piping hot. The potato forces your throat shut when the heat hits your vocal chords. It's scary, especially if the potato gets stuck halfway down. Once it reaches your stomach the pressure soon diminishes. I also have fantasies about swallowing bigger things: an apple or a courgette or my mobile phone. Open wide. Swallow. Gone.
Tartare de boeuf à l'américaine
When I still lived with my parents we used to eat meat no more than twice a week. So it has always had an aura of luxury to have meat around the house, even if it’s just a simple hamburger. It’s kind of a relief that meat like a hamburger or chicken wing has become an everyday industrial product – with all the associated consequences, of course. Secretly I find it exhilarating that the flesh of at least 10 and maybe even hundreds of different cows is mixed together in every single hamburger from any given fastfood chain. I mean, if I was to have sex with hundreds of women one after the other, then one of them is bound to have a venereal disease. There has been hardly any research into the mass production of food, and if there has been then it is deliberately and systematically kept out of the news. The meat may very well be produced in line with all kinds of strict regulations, but that doesn’t prevent microbes, spread primarily by fecal material, being present in 80 per cent of all hamburgers sold. Even if it's in miniscule quantities, there is literally shit in your Big Mac. In the US, at least a couple of hundred people die from eating hamburgers every year. It's Russian roulette made flesh. And what happens if you don’t eat just one but 10 hamburgers one after the other? With the most conservative estimate, that’s 500 cows. There are two patties on a Big Mac, so then we’re talking about an orgy of 1,000 cows. But there could just as easily be 20,000. And with eighty per cent of those 10 Big Macs you’re consuming the dung of 800 to 16,000 cows. Bon appetit.
Côtelettes de saumon
Ten to fifteen percent of every pig carcass is rejected because the pork turns into sweating pale cuts of meat that ooze liquid in the packaging and become leathery when cooked. Together with the scraps of beef, chicken and ostrich, this waste is rendered into fish-feed for farmed fish: salmon, trout, cod and other whitefish varieties. Once you’re aware of this, it’s only a matter of switching one image for another to taste what you really have in your mouth. It’s not the wild salmon which gets its pink colour naturally from eating crustaceans in the open ocean and then makes a journey of thousands of kilometers to powerfully and majestically swim against the current in the Scottish Highlands before leaping up a waterfall, but an artificially fattened organism with a poorly developed tailfin from a floating pen containing 12,000 other salmon which attack each other out of sheer stress. And if there are already 50 cows in a hamburger, then it’s completely impossible to work out what an average farmed salmon ingests from that slaughterhouse waste. Antibiotics are added to the food to combat disease, but the salmon become immune over time, so the dose has to be increased again and again, and eventually it all ends up on your plate. At the same time, you aren’t doing yourself any favours if you start getting sentimental about it. I also drink milk with added calcium, orange juice with extra vitamins. Maybe the antibiotics in my fillet of farmed salmon boost my own resistance and are a precursor of a much bigger trend - pharmafood. Pharmafood will be big business over the next 10 years: chocolate that smooths wrinkles, radish against Parkinson’s, hamburgers with fat-blockers, espresso coffee against dementia, anti-anxiety medication in airline food.
A friend of mine is a bodybuilder and his diet regime includes one junkfood day every week, when he can eat anything and everything in massive quantities. He eats pizza and hamburgers, 20 eggs and three kilos of fish, so he can turn it into pure muscle. The fish odour literally exudes from all his pores, and even if he can’t keep it all down he just has to keep eating. I’m not into bodybuilding, but I did adopt his idea of a junkfood day. On a junkfood day I tour all the fastfood restaurants in the area: McDonald’s, Kentucky Fried Chicken, Burger King and Quick, and a few small kebab shops and grillrooms. I order the most standard meal: a Big Mac menu at McDonald’s and a kebab at a grillroom, and always with fries. Fries are OK, it’s fat and starch, and a good carrier for all kinds of sauces. Every place I visit on a junkfood day I take a different sauce with the fries: ketchup, Flemish mayonnaise, mustard, remoulade, shashlick sauce, garlic sauce, tabasco, 1000 island dressing, vinegar, peanut sauce. If you really want to stuff yourself, you can do two things: eat fast, which means only your stomach gets full. Or you can eat more slowly so that the whole alimentary canal is filled with food at different stages of digestion: oesophagus, stomach, small intestine, large intestine. In this second case, the feeling of being full is all-engorging. You display the same symptoms as with excessive consumption of alcohol. You end up losing your sense of balance, so you can no longer walk straight and you have to hold onto something in order to stand up.
Mousse au chocolat
At the end of every junkfood day I undress and stand in front of the mirror. I look at my body while I’m eating a large bowl of mousse au chocolat, a pack of cakes or a bag of crisps. Each time I see how my jaws mechanically crush the food and how the envelope of my body gradually expands to an ever-greater girth. My body is able to withstand incredible transformations. It has never been an integrated whole. There is nothing that holds it together. It’s like a drawing by someone who can’t draw, or has accidentally slipped. My torso is set on my pelvis in an unnatural way, like building blocks which have been stacked carelessly.
Pain à la campagne
I’m 43 now. That’s about the age that people died in the days when they began organized agriculture and livestock rearing. That means my body is actually ready to die. In fact I’m already past death. The decay set in a long time ago. That’s an interesting situation, because according to the statistics I will still be around for another 40 years. In this body.
Pizza aux quatre fromages
Over a stretch of eight years I’ve gained 40 kilos, which is half as much again as the 80 kilos that I weighed when I was 35. Other people have a piercing or a tattoo, but I went for the extra kilos. Putting on 40 kilos is hard work. You could say gaining 40 kilos equals 160 packs of butter: a pack at breakfast, a pack with lunch and pack at dinner. If it were that simple, you’d get there in no time. But most of what you eat you also shit out. So it’s always two steps forward, one step back. I turned it into a multi-year plan. It takes hundreds of kilos of food to achieve that – and a different mentality. You can snack on biscuits and savouries between meals, but to gain substantial weight you have to raise the stakes across the board. If you put a frozen pizza in the oven, you have to add a couple of extra layers of cheese and salami. Snacking from the fridge before going to bed has to become a meal in itself. The point when people start to see you as a fat person is somewhere between 90 and 95 kilos, I noticed.
Assiette de fromages variés
If I go to an expensive restaurant these days, it’s not just to eat good food, but also because the waiters are too polite to say anything when you take a whole Brie from the cheeseboard instead of just a dainty slice.
Sauce au beurre
The great thing about butter is that you can melt it, which means you can drink it. It’s different with cheese. When you melt it, you are left with cheese fondue.
Cola Light is my favourite drink. I always have a crate of 1.5-litre bottles at home and in the back of the car. You don’t get fat from it, so they say, and there’s aspartame in it, as they also point out. Aspartame is an artificial sweetener that, by the way, will give me cancer faster than cigarettes, which is ironic since my Cola Light addiction began when I stopped smoking. The liver breaks down aspartame to its toxic components. This process puts stress on the liver, so the liver has less energy to burn fat, which results in fat storage. So the complicated thing with Cola Light is that besides losing weight you also gain weight. You’re losing weight in your head, but your body is gaining weight. It cuts three ways.
Fondue du Valais
Gourmandizing is completely different to gluttonizing. Gourmandizing gives you an instant high, while gluttonizing ignores the taste and the nature of what you’re eating. It could be anything. You can gluttonize randomly, without a system, but you can also go about it in a methodical way. Alphabetically, for example: Apple pie, Brisket of beef, Cashew nuts, Dried fruit, Egg salad, Fondue – and if you make cheese fondue you can also arrange the cheeses alphabetically: Appenzeller, Brie, Camembert, Danish Blue, Emmental, Feta, Gorgonzola, Humboldt, Kernhem, Leicester, Mozzarella, Nut cheeses, Old Amsterdam, Pecorino Romano, Queso de Cabrales, Stilton, Roquefort, Taleggio, Vache qui rit, Wensleydale... There are always a couple of mould cultures in there which curdle in combination with each other, either in the pan or in your stomach. Curdled fondue is difficult to eat, but the consistency and texture is really special, and worth trying. You’ll retch at first. You have to prepare for it by pinching your nose shut to begin with. I find these kinds of spontaneous refusal by the body intriguing; you realize how your body and mind are at odds with each other. A good binge is food for thought. I don’t just gorge myself. I’m not addicted to eating. If I’m addicted at all, then I’m addicted to the complexity of what an addiction is.
Tripes à la mode de Caen
I have a second brain in my stomach. Like Siamese twins, my gut brain and the brain in my skull are interconnected. Emotional states from the head brain are mirrored in the gut brain, and, just as my head brain can upset my stomach brain, my stomach brain can disturb my mind. I eat tripe as well as brains I play them off against each other until one of the two says: ‘Stop!’ Retching is a form of refusal, a physical reaction that is not mentally prompted and impossible to repress. Self-expression, you might say.
Cervelle de veau
If the stomach has a brain, then it’s the same the other way around and there is some kind of digestion in my brains. While bingeing I often read diet books full of dos and don’ts about eating: "Welcome to the fast, easy, energy-empowering, never-be-hungry, delicious, hi-pro/lo-carb art of creative weight loss.'... 'First of all, stop your consumption of sweets made with real sugars. Sugar has no nutrition value and is directly harmful to your health.'... 'Eat slowly and extend the meal to give your brain the time to signal satisfaction before your stomach is distented and you feel stuffed.'... If you squeeze an orange you must never drink the juice, but pour it away and eat only the flesh, because there’s less sugar in it.'... 'Don't count calories, count carbs.'... 'Never eat food labeled as "low-fat", it means it's "high carb" To make low-fat products taste good, manufacturers add lots of sugar.' These kinds of imperatives have a strangely schizophrenic effect on me when I'm wolfing down my third plate of pasta with cream and bacon.
Something else that works well is following different diets simultaneously. One day the Atkins diet, without carbohydrates, and the following day a bread diet. Or Atkins in the morning, Montignac for lunch, Fit for Life in the evening, and a couple of SlimFast bars in between. Or just candy bars. You’ll soon lose track. One mouthful is ultra-healthy; the next mouthful from the same plate is pure poison.
Lapin à la moutarde
Some foods cause allergic reactions in the body. This can vary from person to person. Passing through the porous stomach wall, bits of undigested food end up in the bloodstream. There they are attacked by the immune system because the food is recognized as being non-self. I was tested to find out which foods I'm allergic to, and if those allergies would cause a mild or more serious reaction. They tested me for 87 popular foods and five generic foodstuffs, like lactose, gluten, baker’s yeast, brewer’s yeast and tannin. It turned out that there were 25 products that I should definitely stop eating. And with 10 others it was advisable to stop. According to the test results, I couldn’t eat anything any more. I wasn’t allowed any coffee, any tea, any mushrooms, any oranges, any shrimps, any crab, any rabbit, any barley, any oatmeal, any rye, any wheat or any gluten. No bread, and no bran either. I still ate them.
In 1985 the American government donated 500 million dollars for famine relief in Africa. That same year, the American people spent 5 billion dollars, 10 times as much, to combat obesity. Just imagine that those 5 billion diet-dollars are the equivalent of 5 billion kilos of excess weight. Now imagine that every kilo of excess weight represents a food package to the value of 5 dollars, and then there is still an expense of 25 billion dollars to produce those 5 billion kilos of obesity – a total cost of 30 billion dollars. With numbers like this, surely it’s shortsighted to view obesity as a personal problem. If I lose a kilo, then someone else gains it. Fat has to go somewhere.
Once I had managed to reach a weight of 120 kilos, I wanted to know what it was like to shed 40 kilos. From one day to the next I stopped eating and drinking. Now the battle between my head brain and my stomach brain was really on. In the beginning I became very lucid, but after six days my body gave a sign that I had to start drinking again: I fainted three times in a row. So I drank water. Just water, but in endless quantities. And one cup of bouillon for dinner. In the end I could drink and piss at the same time. Meanwhile I kept on fasting. If you starve the body and do not give it any food, the weight it loses is not fat; it’s muscle, and even bone mass. I looked terrible, and my eyes sank into my skull, while the lucid thoughts in my head gradually turned into hallucinations. In the space of a year I lost 40 kilos and then regained 30 kilos. That is a movement of 70 kilos of fat. I discovered that my whole body is designed to keep my brain alive. And my brain will burn everything up itself before it dies.
Saucisson sec façon portuguese
Once, in a delicatessen, I bought a Portuguese salami which was so old that the meat crumbled in my mouth when I took a bite. The sinews on the other hand were like rubber. You could chew on it for minutes to no effect. It was like eating an Egyptian mummy. The sausage was about 30 centimetres long and three centimetres thick. It was the nastiest thing I’ve ever eaten. I took another bite, and another, and another. I had a mouth full of mummy. It was just like human flesh. No other association was possible. It was like I was eating myself 100 years after I’d died. I saved up the sinews in my mouth and then I swallowed them one by one. It made me puke. When I puke, I puke as if I’m singing the national anthem: standing straight, looking straight ahead. The increasing pressure in my stomach and the contraction of my abdomen, forces the contents of my stomach out through the oesophagus into the outside world. I'm not going to politely cover my mouth or hide in the toilet and throw up into the washbasin. Puking should be celebrated. Projectile puking is my favourite form of puking. Big, undigested lumps of the hors d'oeuvre de moules à la ravigotte from the day before shooting over your clothes, across the table, across dinner guests, over the television and against the wall. And then another wave, and another, and another. Half-digested puke like a wholesome minestrone. If no more comes out then I stick my finger deep down my throat, so that the next wave to come out is mixed with gall and is ejected so forcefully that the flap in my throat doesn’t close in time, and it also comes out of my nose (as well). Once I even got a grain of rice coming out of my eye-socket. The puke burned into my eyeball. I couldn’t see a thing.
MelanchotopiaFrom large-scale interventions to very simple gestures, Melanchotopia supports a range of artistic practices that go beyond the classical approach to displaying art in public space. Working with the existing dynamics of the city, Witte de With’s intention is to bring forward the diverse layers of daily life in Rotterdam, creating a rich framework for subjective encounters. It is an exhibition about the reality of Rotterdam. Niet-weten als normAls Zijlstra praat, dan hoor je de positieve, neoliberale peptalk van Rutte, maar ook de anti-elitaire en antiglobalistische onderbuikpraat van Wilders. Het roer moet niet alleen om, maar de bestaande structuur moet – als doel op zich – schade worden toegebracht. Met andere woorden, schepping en destructie gaan hand in hand – en uit de mond van Zijlstra klinkt dat allemaal verbluffend unisono. Een voorspoedig 2133!Wie zich verdiept in de geschiedenis van tijdcapsules vindt genoeg redenen om er geen te maken. De meesten verdwijnen, omdat ze vergaan of omdat ze worden vergeten. Toch zijn we bezig om er een in Rotterdam samen te stellen. Want ook al zijn we tegenwoordig geneigd om alleen met ironische distantie naar tijdcapsules te kijken, ze bieden nog steeds mogelijkheden. Niet zozeer voor onze nazaten, maar voor onszelf. Provisional SpaceROMA Publications presents: Provisional Space - Nickel van Duijvenboden, Kees Goudzwaard, Arnoud Holleman, Rob Johannesma, Irene Kopelman, Jan Kempenaers, Mark Manders, Batia Suter, and Roger Willems. Curated by Mark Manders and Roger Willems. February 11 - April 7, 2012. Opening reception, Saturday, February 11th, from 6pm to 10pm, with a talk by Arnoud Holleman at 8pm. Castillo/Corrales, 80 rue Julien Lacroix, 75020 Paris. Me and Krijn GiezenDe niche die hij voor zichzelf creëerde getuigt van een haat/liefde verhouding tot de kunst en dat zie je terug in het werk. Kunst geeft vrijheid, maar ze is ook overgecodeerd. Via een omweg sluit ze de geest evenzogoed weer op, in regels die even kafkaësk en beperkend kunnen zijn als de verregaande arboficatie van de firma Nederland, waar hij als landschapskunstenaar voortdurend mee te maken had. De Burgers van SeoulEen betere verbeelding van hoe kunst aan macht en geld gelieerd is – en gecorrumpeerd kan raken – heb ik niet eerder zo gezien. Met de glaswand die me van hen scheidt hebben de Burgers van Calais een nieuwe huid gekregen. Het heeft weinig meer te maken met de gevoelige expressie in de beeldtaal van Rodin, of met de innovatieve kracht waarmee hij de beeldhouwkunst in de moderniteit heeft binnengehaald. Valéry Proust MuseumCurator Camiel van Winkel has taken German philosopher Th.W. Adorno’s 1953 essay ‘Valéry Proust Museum’ as the point of departure. The exhibition is not a regular group show, but an environment composed of selected works by a range of artists from different periods. Avoiding art historical and thematic selection criteria, the exhibition is based on the idea of the inevitable disappearance of the work of art in the empty spaces of the museum. September 12, 20011904 - 2013; 1907 - 2090; 1996 - 2074; 1910 - 2097; 1986 - 2094; 1960 - 2094; 1907 - 2061; 1936 - 2081; 1949 - 2059; 1977 - 2016; 1919 - 2054; 1963 - 2053; 1948 - 2068; 1905 - 2079; 1988 - 2043; 1965 - 2014; 1929 - 2008; 1957 - 2046; 1974 - 2054; 1953 - 2095; 1946 - 2045; 1926 - 2048; 1996 - 2030; 1968 - 2014; 1988 - 2094; 1941 - 2019; 1972 - 2076; 1951 - 2007; 1977 - 2070; 1919 - 2054; 2001 - 2080; 1952 - 2094; 1913 - 2088; 1906 - 2020; 2000 - 2001 De WilhelminasteenDe geschiedenis van de Wilhelminasteen begint op 30 mei 1891 als de dan 10-jarige Koningin Wilhelmina en Koningin-moeder Emma een bezoek brengen aan Rotterdam. Om de gebeurtenis luister bij te zetten varen er honderden bootjes op de Maas en brengen 3000 schoolkinderen een aubade. De kersverse kleine Koningin zal haar naam verlenen aan de Wilhelminakade en de handeling die daarbij hoort is een steenlegging. Temporary Stedelijk 2The Stedelijk Museum proudly announces the gift of 63 artworks from Dutch collector Maurice van Valen. Beginning May 10, 2011, a selection of works will be presented at the Stedelijk Museum during Temporary Stedelijk 2, as part of the ground floor installation. The Van Valen gift is notable for how it complements and builds upon the representation of several artists in the collection of the Stedelijk Museum. Passie en RuimteGeer was in deze klimaatverandering een ideale docent om je tegen af te zetten. Hij was onverzettelijk, op het romantische af. Kwam het lokaal binnen, ging staan als de Balzac van Rodin en poneerde dan iets waarvan vooral de stelligheid me bijbleef. Zijn stijlopvattingen werden niet de mijne, maar het was glashelder waar hij voor stond. Ik studeerde af. Geer bleef als klassiek docent verbonden aan de KABK-nieuwe stijl. RetitledFor the last couple of years in a row, artists had been invited who felt at home in a big show environment. This had thrown up a number of lively and playful installations, but this year the budding tradition was in jeopardy: for a variety of reasons there was next to no money for art projects. The only kitty in the budget that might be called upon had been set aside for the printing of the half a million paper napkins that were to be used during the festival. Destroyed ThinkerIn january 2007 two thieves stole a small cast of the Thinker from the Singer Museum in Laren, Holland. Not knowing the value of the sculpture, the thieves started taking the sculpture apart to be melted down. Alarmed by the press attention for their theft, and learning about its estimated value, they burried the sculpture in their garden. A few days later it was found, heavily damaged. Me and Jan HovingInventarisnummer BK53086 - BK53115. Serie van 30 potloodtekeningen. Begin 1 juni 1976, einde 30 juni 1976. Kunstenaar: Jan Hoving. Titel: Zonder titel. Beschrijving: Vierkant met potloodarcering, met begin- en eindtijdnotering. Materiaal: potlood, papier. Hoogte: 54,8. Breedte: 54,8. Staat: redelijk. Organisatie: Instituut Collectie Nederland. Rubriek: Beeldende kunst. Dit werk wordt afgestoten door Instituut Collectie Nederland. 8th Gwangju BiennaleAs an artist and writer, Arnoud Holleman’s extraordinarily diverse output is connected by a strong thematic concern with the life and significance of images. Often this concern is manifested through acts of appropriation that transform an image’s meaning through a shift in context, or a removal of contextual elements. This concern with the lives of images has also led him to create works that explore the historical prohibitions on image making. Rodin researchFrom 2005 onwards, I have been focusing on Rodin as a research topic. The main question that I ask myself is in what way Rodin consciously helped shaping the mythical proportions of his own artistic persona. By studying his life and works and by studying the timeframe of the second half of the nineteenth century – in which his work came to existence – I seek to create a context of paralel references as a source of inspiration for nowadays artistic practice. www.illegalevecht.orgOf course a river can not be illegal, but that’s why the two words are combined. Illegalevecht is based on uncalculated development of ideas and on multiple usage of the river. You can help to define Illegalevecht by sending proposals that in one way or another alter the river and its surrounding landscape. Each year we provide up to 4000 euros to execute plans. If we select your plan, we will give you the money directly in hand, without further bureaucracy. NowWhat happens is that the grit under your feet mixes with the noise in your head. And in the monotony of the constant succession of footsteps, residual thoughts escape like intestinal slugs. Initially this is unpleasant. The physical exertion is a booster, the cadence of your breathing and your footsteps become the haunted baseline under the story of your life, as you recount it to yourself at that moment. Media SuicideDe 38-jarige Karst T. uit Huissen reed even voor het middaguur in op toeschouwers in een bewuste actie de koninklijke familie te raken. De man raakte zelf ernstig gewond en verkeerde gisteravond in levensgevaar. De man ontweek op de Jachtlaan in Apeldoorn twee afzettingen en reed met zijn zwarte Suzuki Swift in op de menigte. De koninklijke familie zag vanaf een paar meter afstand hoe de man tegen monument De Naald botste. Questioning HistoryIn visual art and photography there has been growing interest in history over the past few years - and in reflection on the past in particular. This interest relates to historiography, the oral tradition, historical consciousness and collective memory. Visual artists who address these themes find themselves in a highly relevant social context. The exhibition encompasses a diversity of work by 19 distinguished artists. OnkenhoutStaring at the picture of the garden on the postcard I catch a glimpse of my mother in a version of her life that she never lived, one in which Nico had gotten in touch, after that evening out. Perhaps now she’d have a different surname and be sitting by a different fire drinking wine with a different child. In a moment that feels like an oedipal short circuit, I experience something impossible: that I never existed. Immovably CentredEverything just chucked away. Subsidy handed back. A total failure. Fine. Well done. I’d like to know when you’re not going to be a failure. If you’re not. And whether I’m going to witness it in this lifetime. So vain. So weak. So lacking in backbone. I have to keep the whole show on the road while you just sit upstairs crying at your desk, your tears staining what you’re only going to scrunch up again any second and toss into the corner. On that laptop of yours. Aaltje KraakIn de Marslaan stond een rijtje van vijf jaren zestig-huizen te wachten op de sloop. De bouwnorm was in het centrum tot vierhoog verhoogd dus op die plek voldeden ze niet meer. De grote ramen, die de huizen ooit tot moderne doorzonwoningen hadden gemaakt waren nu dichtgetimmerd. Op het blanke hout van het underlayment stond over de volle lengte van het huizenblok met spuitbus geschreven: Weg met die zooi! The Return of Religion and Other MythsThe Return of Religion and Other Myths is a large-scale multifaceted project, consisting of the exhibition The Art of Iconoclasm, a discourse program taking place in early 2009 titled On Post-Secularism, and the publication of a BAK Critical Reader on the subject in 2009. The project explores the popular assumption of the return of religion to the public sphere, contemporary politics, and the media in the West as a constitutive "myth." On ne touche pasOne image is not the same as the other and there are also images that know their place: images that not only form a world in themselves but also refer to a more complex reality beyond themselves. And this is what I would like to focus on in this lecture, with the help of my film Museum, dating from 1998. For me, reflection on earlier works is not meant to dwell in the past. It is meant to stimulate preciseness and to develop internal coherence. More of the samePhoto column in Amsterdam Weekly, focusing on similarities in the city environment. Based on the '700 centenboek' from 1975, in which Jos Houweling photographed objects throughout the city of Amsterdam in the same manner. The photo column appeared biweekly and was combined with the work of Hans Eijkelboom, whose series focus on similar human behavior or similar dress codes. Over de filosofie van de verdunningAls aanzet tot de verwezenlijking van hun ideaal ontmantelde Muller de hiërarchie in de verpleging. In deze anti-autoritaire omgeving stond voorop dat zwakzinnigen en begeleiders elkaar hielpen om ‘zichzelf’ te zijn. Met zijn oprechte, onaangepaste gedrag kon de zwakzinnige zelfs als positief voorbeeld dienen voor de ‘zelfactualisering’ waar ieder mens naar diende te streven. www.nieuwkomer.nlFor months after I first stood on that little bridge, I continued to circle around the windmills. Not only with my camera, but also with a microphone. When you look closer, the polder turns out to be an arena of conflicting interests. The cluttering of the landscape stands in opposition to climatological necessity; economic and ecological interests are locking horns for dominance; innovation oriented towards the future has to compete with the appreciation for history. MarcelLadies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking, earth has disappeared. As we will not be able to crash, we will continue flying until we run out of fuel. Well so do something about it you’ve been wining about it for years. Well. Halfway. Everything’s fine. Stay calm. Come on guys what’s the big idea? You know, these days when somebody on the street says ‘sorry’ it’s a junky. You see you don’t get it. You’re just a character in someone elses plot. Call meIt’s either filthy thoughts or intellectual blah-blah, and nothing in between. Look closer. More closer. Look at me! You hear me?! If there’s any reason for me to be ashamed, it’s you. The only reason I’m standing in front of the town hall is because I happened to have been ‘created’ by a world-famous sculptor: Rodin, the genius of deep emotions and existential gestures. Yeah right. The way I’m standing here, Rodin is the only person who’s never once laid a finger on me. Just in Time!Guest curator Kopsa asked the artists who submitted proposals for ‘Just in Time’ to define what they regarded as ‘necessary’. Just in Time (JIT) is the name of an economic principle, based on producing the right component at the right place at the right moment, in order to prevent waste. Artists manage their time in the opposite manner. They deliberately choose indirection, and are open to mistakes and unexpected tangents. The Second CommandmentThe best way to make the difference between meaning and madness is by saying the things you have to say as precisely as possible, with every means available to you. In that respect, the recontextualisation of older work is one of the strategies that could be investigated in more depth. Sometimes it makes more sense to ‘re-present’ old work than to simply produce for production’s sake and prematurely declare the old as passé. HesterIn the drawing, she has her head down because she was reading. She’s spent most of her life reading, its her way out of her depression. I remember being quite conscious of drawing her double chin, since she hates it. My mother hates the fact that she’s losing her jawbone. I thought, ‘No, I’ve got to scrub it out.’ So I drew a shadow there. But these dark areas, the chin and the bags, emphasize her depression more than they show her reading a book. Re-MagazineRe-Magazine's great virtue is its willingness to expose sentiments that seldom find public expression, most often relating to the apparently trivial experiences and memories that make up the larger part of existence. Alongside this editorial idiosyncrasy, it is beautifully designed and photographed, each issue adopting a form to suit its subject - Emily King, Frieze, October 2003. Food ComaDe inhoud van FOOD COMA wordt twee keer opgediend: een keer als theater, de tweede keer als tijdschrift. Centraal in voorstelling en tijdschrift staat Marcel, een 44-jarige computerdeskundige uit Wavrin, een klein dorpje onder de rook van Lille. Marcel wil en kan het maar over één ding hebben: voedsel. In FOOD COMA heeft Marcel een "monologue intérieur", een manische opeenstapeling van feiten over voedsel die begint waar dieetgoeroe's, chefkoks, boulimie-patiënten, slowfoodactivisten, fruitariërs en andere lekkerbekken ophouden. Re-Magazine #12 (Hester)The door slammed behind us and we got locked out. We decided to deal with that later and first take the furniture down to the car. So we got into the lift with the filing cabinet and then the lift stuck. There was hardly anyone in this building, I was maybe one of only five people that had moved in. We were stuck in the lift for three hours and every time we heard a noise we’d bang on the door. Eventually somebody came past and realised we were stuck and went to get help. When we got out of the lift we found out the car had been clamped while we’d been stuck, which meant a penalty of 120 pounds. Re-Magazine #10 (Claudia)At times, her intelligence left me speechless and her beauty left me breathless. Her overwhelming height of 1m98 and dazzling charisma makes Claudia a woman who is almost too big for this world. This is a story about Claudia's monumental size, breathtaking beauty, staggering intelligence, mind-blowing success and pure happiness. Claudia has it all and she’s ready to share it with you. I am flyingEvent. Airplane with banner, 2003
Captured on 16 mm film, duration 32 seconds.
Camera: Sander Snoep
Me and Larry ClarkHolleman looped the legendary shot of one the protagonists relieving himself after a night of steady drinking, emptying a last can of beer while doing so. After a while the calm splashing becomes reminiscent of a Zen fountain rather than a toilet, forming the audio backdrop to the show. Holleman filmed this fragment with a video camera in a cinema, in an exploration of appropriation, as well as of the status of the original images. (Willem de Rooij in Frieze magazine) Solipsistic SkyHe ejaculated on the paper, outlining the blobs with watercolour crayon. Once it had all dried, he made everything around these constellations black with pencil. The drawing then became a window looking out towards a cosmos-like world, full of nothingness. This blackening process was a monotonous task, which allowed him to withdraw happily into the right side of the brain, where timelessness rules. My Dad Playing PianoThe closet in his study kept the usual mix of essential and trivial: drawings from high school, student paraphernalia and tons of paper work from his job as a teacher. In an old shoebox we found a microphone and some old music cassettes. When he had retired, eight years before his death, he had picked up playing the piano again. He had taken lessons again and had studied every day. Sometimes he would make a recording of the pieces that he played, as a reality check. Re- Magazine #9 (John)I still remember the moment perfectly, it was summer and I thought, I’ll disappear in the autumn. And that’s what I did. I hatched my plan in secret. What surprised me was that my decision didn’t calm me down. I heard people who commit suicide live in great harmony with themselves and their surroundings during the period between deciding and carrying it out. For as long as I can remember I’ve felt hustled, and that feeling only grew worse after my decision. Family and friendsSeven drawings of penises in various forms and sizes. Black pencil on 9" x 11" sheets of paper. First published in Butt magazine # 4, summer 2002 and later in Butt book - adventures in 21st century gay subculture, 2006. Based on dating site profile pics, named 'Dieter', 'Bram', 'Henk', 'Andrew', 'Harry', 'Erik', 'Martin' and 'Edward'. The drawings are framed in individual frames and for sale as a group. Price on request. Driving Miss Palmen I understand why you want to be a writer. It’s better to be mediocre and famous than just being mediocre. But the difference between you and me is that I’m able to create a character of myself in a story I choose to live in. And you, I’m sorry to say, are not. That makes me a writer and you just a character in someone elses plot. And as for my work: The big misunderstanding about my work is that critics keep comparing the fictious Connie Palmen with the real Connie Palmen, instead of comparing her to other great characters in litterature, like Madame Bovary, or Lolita... Untitled (Staphorst)In this mediation between being and non-being we can do nothing else than continually behave as camera-genic as possible. See and be seen via the image has become a cultural and existential duty. This primacy of image and visibility however is no universal, natural condition: Islam’s interdict on images originally, according to the second commandment, also applied to Christendom. Me and MadonnaWhen she comes past I click away hysterically. Not even with the intention of getting her picture but more because I’m in the press enclosure and have to prove that I’m a photographer or so. I’m so busy with the camera and she goes by so fast that I hardly catch a glimpse of her. The print I have made is blurred. Also that night was the first time she showed up with a black hairdo instead of her usual blonde, so nobody recognized her on the photo. Me and PaoloMasked newspaper spread. Photo shows Italian soccer player Paolo de Canio, saluting his fans in nazi-style while celebrating the victory for SS Lazio over AS Roma in january 2005. Text at bottom centre: I just wanted to celebrate with my fans. A photographer using a camera that takes 500 frames a minute just caught this moment in the celebration and made it look as if I held my right hand in that position. I = for Impasse (Re- #4)I meet a lot of people, both friends and strangers, who are in the middle of their personal acts of expression, but when I hear them talking, and compare their intentions to the final result, I very often think that the process of making is better than the expression of the product itself. I wish I could blame this on their lack of talent, but when I look at the results of my own acts of expression, I get the same feeling that a documentary about the making of that particular act of expression would have been much more interesting. Co*starDus toen kreeg ik heel erg de wens, als mens maar ook als kunstenaar, om me te bevrijden van al die dingen... om werkelijk iets nieuws in te slaan. Maar dat gaat niet, want je kan het nieuwe niet bedenken op basis van al die ouwe zooi. Dus ik dacht, ik wil daar van af... en toen bleek dat soap ... bleek een deur te zijn naar... zeg maar dat je die ruimte in je hoofd weer werkelijk leeg zou kunnen maken en als een soort potentie zou kunnen gaan vullen... zelf. Me and BertThat summer I was into the differences and parallels between drawing and photography. I saw myself as a human camera and tried to copy photos as precisely as possible. I was intrigued by the fact that I had to work for hours or days or weeks on end and would still fail to come anywhere close to what the camera had seen in a split second. One night, after a long day of working with minute precision and concentration, I went out to a bar and ran into Bert. Inner ChildIk kan tekenen door te beginnen. Al tekenend vond Clanice een waarheid waarin ze veilig was voor haar stiefvader en halfbroers. Ik besta. Clanice weet zich zoo te draaien dat zij zich het eerste laat naaien. Vrijwel meteen werd Clanice teruggeworpen in haar moeders schoot die het geschop in haar buik opvatte als boodschappen van een jongetje. We gaan naar Zandvoort. Clanice en haar zorgzame moeder maken gewoon lekker rustig een korte wandeling naar de kalme zee. From the Corner of the EyeFor many artists, sexual orientation is just one of the many significant aspects in their work, but is an aspect which is often ignored in exhibitions and art criticism. From the Corner of the Eye offers an image of contemporary visual arts, seen from a "queer" perspective. In this exhibition, it is hoped that the homosexual gaze will sometimes be emphatically present and at other times will disappear into the background. Me and CadinotMuseum (1998) is a re-mastered, projected version of a 1980s video by French gay porn director J. P. Cadinot. After Holleman cut out all the sex scenes, all that is left are young boys in hot pants and uniforms wandering aimlessly through a cheap film set of rooms in a nondescript museum. The eclectic art collection functions merely as a prop, but since there is no apparent action either, it’s not clear what the props are for. Recto / VersoInterview covergirl Lauren Hutton was photographed by Francesco Scavullo in 1973. She's wearing Galanos - from his exciting fall 1973 collection. Accessorized by Galanos, makeup by Way Bandy, hair by Rick Gilette. The photo was re-photographed by Anuschka Blommers and Niels Schumm in 2003, with model Uta Eichhorn posing as Re-Magazine covergirl Claudia. She's wearing a black dress by Hermès. Styling by Katja Rahlwes, makeup by Renata Mandic. Wij / WeThe definition of the word definition is: ‘the description of the essence of something in one or two highly precise and succinctly formulated sentences.’ That is by no means easy, and we certainly don’t pretend to be able to do so. Nevertheless, there are a lot of characteristics that we find interesting and that we come up against in wondering about what might be typical of the region known as Twente. But those things aren’t so much absolute as they are relative. Life is a Dream Come TrueIn most of my dreams there are no images or storylines to assign to their nightmarish feeling. They are more about certain dynamics, of shrinking and growing, for example, or being crushed. My body caving in on itself. As a depressed person I live inside my head and there’s always a sense that my body is deteriorating and weak. So feelings of weakness and lightheadedness come to me naturally. There’s a vacancy in me that is connected to my dreams. InterieursZoals een ander naar de slijter loopt om zich te bezatten, zo loop ik wel naar het venduehuis of de veiling of naar de antiquair om me visueel te bezatten. Zo zou je het eigenlijk best kunnen noemen ja. Je bezat je d'r an. Het heeft daarbij nog het voordeel dat dat bezatten langer duren kan dan die slok die je naar binnen werkt. Maar wat het verwerven van die dagelijks weerkerende pret betreft kan me dat dan wel eens zo ontzettend bezig houden dat ik er helemaal high van word. Time Warp A cinematic report on the processes of growth and change taking place on W.G. Witteveenplein in Rotterdam. Each film begins with the construction of the park in early 2003 and shows the various changes that have taken place so far. The films are supplemented four times a year with new material. This will result in five twelve-minute films in 2023. www.verzamelingverzamelingen.comDe burgemeester had met de mooie stukken uit de collectie van de Van Sytzamastichting zijn kamer ingericht, maar de rest van het cultuurgoed voerde een verloren strijd tegen het dagelijks leven. Stenen beelden stonden zonder sokkel op de gang en werden gebruikt om de deuren open te houden. 18e-eeuwse miniatuurtjes hingen op een paar verloren spijkers naast een groepsfoto van de brandweer. Tekeningen 1995 - 1997Met een zweepje onder z'n oksels geklemd 'berijdt' een naakte man een op z'n kop staand paard. Terwijl hij met z'n anus over de paardenlul glijdt, perst een eveneens naakte vrouw zich met moeite in het poepgat van het rijdier. Om haar daad kracht bij te zetten, duwt ze met haar hand tegen een denkbeeldige muur - een muur die tevens de kadrering vormt van het op papier getekende seksspelletje. (Nathalie Faber - Het Parool 3-2-1998) Me and SusanI’ve always thought of photography as something very magical and it is my belief that this is based on a genuine experience: in my early childhood there must have been no sharp distinction between a real thing and its image. In the same way that kids see themselves as inseparable from their mother until the age of three, I thought that object and image were simply two different manifestations of the same energy. MiscellaneousThis is a selection of older works, dating roughly from 1990 until now. It's a reservoir of lose ends. Part of my practice is to go back in time, and re-evaluate previous motives and actions. Therefore, a lot of my works have an unfinished, ambiguous nature. Either they have lost their momentum after they were exhibited, or were never shown outside of my studio, or are just waiting for completion in another context. Auntie Truus and Auntie Mok With utmost concentration I tried to capture the atmosphere in the photos as closely as possible, but again and again I would screw up somewhere halfway. Either the balance in shading wasn’t right, or I couldn’t get the expressions right on their faces. When I finally managed to give Auntie Truus the right expression, I reached the point where I had a physical sensation of being on that lawn on Texel again on that day in 1969, asking Auntie Truus and Auntie Mok to pose for me. At that very moment, reality as such was redefined as an object for exhibition. Unframed drawingIn later years, after being trained as a visual artist, I got interested in the differences and parallels between drawing and photography. When I redrew a photograph of a young boy looking at a horizontal piece of paper, I re-experienced something of that primitive power of the image: the boy and I coincided and somewhere inbetween, reality as such was redefined as an object for exhibition.