back to the drawing board
06.08. – 28.08.2010
Sponsored by : Landeshauptstadt Dresden, Office for Culture and Monument Protection
and friendly support of Brillux
Opening: 06.08. – 19 o’clock, from 21 o’clock concert: BAUT (Berlin)
Exhibition duration: 06.08. – 28.08.2010
Opening hours: Fri. – Sun. 16 – 20 clock and by appointment
Paola Alborghetti (Dresden/Milan)
Eckehard Fuchs (Dresden)
Thomas Kabelitz (Berlin)
Shiho Kagabu (Tokyo)
Petr Lysácek (Prague)
Michiko Nakatani (Dresden/Tokyo)
Dan Trantina (Prague/Munich)
06.08.2010 BAUT extract concert/performance (Berlin)
Theo Boettger, Martin Böttger
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Our knowledge feeds us, drives us, enriches our creative spirit. What others did, what they created, conceived, dreamed, strengthens our step, teaches us precise look, teaches us goals, ways, dreams, guides our hand. We step out the form, shape it, deform it according to our visions, follow the voices, follow the invisible hand. We set out into the future, into the growing transparency, driven by a wind of hunches, hopes, memories, we pull – until knowledge catches up with us.
Our knowledge makes us fail, accuses us of being superfluous in a world of many-to-many, accuses us of helpless plagiarism. Thus we begin, we search anew, we search in the empty, in the uncertain, thus we create, we drive forth, we set forms into the new, towards the future, we contour the contourless – until our knowledge catches up with us. As long as we do not know what it is that we do, as long as we cannot identify our gestures, as long as we do not know that others did better what we do, we only imitate what others drew from themselves – we do not know that our doing is superfluous. When knowledge catches up with us, we discard the form, we discard the gesture, we discard the pathos, the idea, the concept and the dream. When knowledge catches up with us, we fail, we fall, we search, we begin anew, we start in ignorance, beyond memories, beyond fixed ideas.
Or we hold on to the form and gesture, hoping that our knowledge is false, that the widespread opinions lie, hoping that our gesture, our pathos, our concept and dream is original, our language an original language, an authentic expression of our time, hoping that it is a force beyond the measuring instruments, the resemblance to golden ages only surface and deceptive appearance.
Or we find impulses that carry and drive us, through knowledge, with it and past it, find a trajectory in which cheerful hunches coalesce, inspirations from experiences of our time, find an inventive density that springs from rich worries and hopes, deficits and skills, near horizons, find the whirlpool of speaking forms open to encounter, without anxious consideration of a yesterday or tomorrow and moved solely by the sociable drive of language.