Exodus

As far as I have to bring back the S, M, L, XL to its owner (honestly, it pisses me off, how insistently she askes me for it, although the book was drowned in a dust before I took it), I decided to fix some info and pages scan here. The book is a hyper-density of information, I'm obsessed with the layout idea (done by Bruce Mau) and it's impossible to digitalize the whole one, so I'm concentrated on Exodus then.

 

Kronstadt, little town located on Kotlin island, we went to couple of weeks ago. German name, Baltic Sea, splendid views, dramatic and live (mostly cloudy) sky, so on. I adore pier cranes. 

I found a perfect german word for my current lifestyle — unterwegs — «entkommen und selbstbestimmt leben».  So aptly.

Can't wait for start to count down the days. And no art or something today.

This night, between October 16 and 17, The Rhizome was born. We four are now Rhizome group. Great hopes and expectations, oh Gods, bless us.

while away the time

The most terrible insomnia I've ever had, mixed with apprehensions. Then sleep the day away. Holy fuck. I give myself one and a half month to recuperate and bring back to normal daily cycles.

Konstantin Melnikov's private house in Moscow, 1927-1929.

I visited this masterpiece last summer together with german students and made acquaintance with his family — granddaugther, her husband and great-granddaugther. We were kindly asked not to photograph, because, as Ekaterina said, none of photos can express the atmosphere and the spirit of the house. and I held on till the end, but then gave up (human-being, shame on me), opened my camera glass and did a random shot.

Perhaps it's too overproud, but seems I did it. At least my own perception.

Nordzee

Despite I'm still waiting for the call from dutch consulate concerning my mvv visa process (just!!!) starting, I can't stop thinking about Nord Sea. What makes it especially desirable is fact that we'll see each other in winter and early spring. Umm, I already see myself at empty shore somewhere in The Hague.

image credit snoeziesterre flickr

Meantime, I get deeper and deeper to OMA projects and fascinated with them as I never could expect before. Hard to express how am I excited about that. That's how Rem makes his voluntary prisoners of architecture. Great deal, should say. Note for myself: use your dictionaries you dumb, improve the lexis!

Dutch Parliament Extension, The Hague, 1978 [13th century]; OMA’s first preservation project.
Watercolor by Madelon Vriesendorp.

Was it just a soap blob

For many reasons I'd better write in my own, but let's treat it as an exercise before my time belts leap.
Instead of preparing my diploma content for annual review competition I rake up some memories and hesitate. Will it be a step ahead or backward. Ooh.

The favourites of last week are blobes and spheres of Tomás Saraceno. I got an opportunity to see them alive at Hamburger Bahnhof — and even more, to squeeze and enter one, and the feelings I had that moment were as light, clean and plain as they are. I don't write recensions (you better have a look here or there ), so let this be my expression.

friend of mine Liliya enjoying the surroundings

lovely clew

lovely moss

and some web photos.
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one two one two

I knew it will happen so it's happened now. As far as I move to another country (well for definite period but anyway) I move to another digital inland empire. Damn, I got  so addicted to changes.

In a process of migrating Heinrich Heine‘s identity desintegrates in 5 steps:
«Here in France immediately on my arrival in Paris my German name "Heinrich" was translated into "Henri", and I had to adapt myself to it and had even so to style myself here in this country, for the word Heinrich is not pleasing to the Frenchman and the French do make everything in the world pleasant for themselves. Even the name "Henri Heine" they were unable to pronounce, and most of them called me Monsieur Enri Enn : Many contracted this to Enrienne and some called me Monsieur Un Rien.»
Heinrich Heine´s statement about losing his name and identity when moving to Paris is inscribed in the entrance halls of the station U9 Westhafen like a leitmotiv, or an ouverture: the loss of name, personality, then the loss of personal and human rights, and finally the loss of life and commemoration - annihilation.

 

The Human rights are seen through Heine‘s point of view. The texts use typographical styles which were rejected by the Nazis. The colors of the very large shapes and forms are Bauhaus‘ ones. Quotes of murdered people are written by hand on the walls. This art work was done by Inscire organisation, they care of human rights or something. Whatever they meant by it, these graphics and tiles just fascinate me.

Image credits essamo  and reiner asscherman flickrs