onsdag 11 maj 2016

Två böcker.

Jag läser Olivia Laings bok The Lonely City som handlar om att känna sig ensam, det paradoxala att uppleva det i en stor stad, och hur hon söker sig till konstnärer som gjort konst som berör hennes egen situation på olika vis. Konsten hjälper henne att värdera ensamheten och se skönheten i den.
En av de konstnärer hon skriver om är David Wojnarowicz. 
Hon citerar honom: ”I am glass … No gesture can touch me. I’ve been dropped into all this from another world and I can’t speak your language any longer … I feel like a window, maybe a broken window. I am a glass human. I am a glass human disappearing in the rain. I am standing among all of you waving my invisible arms and hands. I am shouting my invisible words … I am disappearing. I am disappearing but not fast enough.” Wojnarowicz var döende i AIDS. Han myntade begreppet "pre-invented world”( - the shit we are handed at birth, like language and capitalism - which was built to serve the needs of those in power and which Wojnarowicz rejected vocally and often.)

Olivia Laing: ”People make things - make art or things that are akin to art - as a way of expressing their need for contact, or their fear of it; people make objects as a way of coming to terms with shame, with grief. People make objects to strip themselves down, to survey their scars, and people make objects to resist oppression, to create a space in which they can move freely. Art doesn’t have to have a reparative function, any more than it has a duty to be beautiful or moral.

Hon skriver: "There is a gentrification that’s happening to cities, and there’s a gentrification that’s happening to the emotions too, with a similarly homogenising, whitening, deadening effect. Amid the glossiness of late capitalism, we are fed the notion that all difficult feelings – depression, anxiety, loneliness, rage – are simply a consequence of unsettled chemistry, a problem to be fixed, rather than a response to structural injustice or, on the other hand, to the native texture of embodiment, of doing time, as David Wojnarowicz memorably put it, in a rented body, with all the attendant grief and frustration that entails."

Jag läste Cynthia Carrs biografi om honom för något år sedan. Wojnarowicz var en passionerad och intensivt levande människa som gjorde konst under ett tiotal år innan han dog i förtid av AIDS.

"To make the private into something public is an action that has terrific repercussions in the pre-invented world"
David Wojnarowicz

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