On their route, the Amazons proclaim the New Time in three rituals. A time when we are more than human; empathic, transformative, new beings, monsters, the alien. This ceremonial procession shows the new visibility and self-evidence with which we are all ready for transformation. We are the future and we bring you the revolution.
Wed
31.5.
Thu
1.6.
Sat
3.6.
Sat
3.6.
Fri
9.6.
Sat
10.6.
Sun
11.6.
Fri
16.6.
Sat
17.6.
Sun
18.6.
Mon
19.6.
Thu
22.6.
Fri
23.6.
Fri
23.6.
Sat
24.6.
Sat
24.6.
Sat
24.6.
Sun
25.6.
Sun
25.6.
Sun
25.6.
Sat
1.7.
Mon
3.7.
Tue
4.7.
Wed
5.7.
Thu
6.7.
Sat
8.7.
Sat
2.9.
Sat
7.10.
Sat
4.11.
-
Program -
Wed
31.05.
20:00 PAF 2023Thu
01.06.
20:00 PAF 2023Sat
03.06.
Sat
03.06.
Fri
09.06.
Sat
10.06.
Sun
11.06.
Fri
16.06.
Sat
17.06.
Sun
18.06.
Mon
19.06.
Thu
22.06.
Fri
23.06.
Fri
23.06.
Sat
24.06.
Sat
24.06.
Sat
24.06.
Sun
25.06.
Sun
25.06.
Sun
25.06.
Sat
01.07.
Mon
03.07.
Tue
04.07.
Wed
05.07.
Thu
06.07.
Sat
08.07.
Sat
02.09.
Sat
07.10.
Sat
04.11.
Category: Productions not listed
Quick deepy sweep
As part of the online durational festival »It’s about time«.
We are in front of the image as in front of time, a past time that we observe, that we look at in the present. It seems close to us but it comes from far away, a time that has passed but not yet passed…… A memory in a way.
This image vibrates with questions. It looks at us, observes us too, questioning ourposition, at what moment did we look at it, why, in what context.The image is thus a temporal braiding where the past, the present which lasts,which lasts…. as if time had not passed
When the image appears, the story is „dismantled“ in all directions, deconstructed.It is a way of rethinking the relationship with our past by giving it, through our eyes,a future, a perspective of the future. A way of deconstructing stereotypes firmly fixed in the collective memory.
This project is about deliberately examining the past as an active moment that accompanies, of a mobile and light nature…
Indeed, the idea is to think of the past as an ally that moves forward and never stops transforming itself.
An archaeological work, to desecrate the historical legends, the perennial stereotypes, firmly anchored in the collective heritage.
Talking about discrimination, prejudice or racism means talking about time, but also about images: caricatures, objects, political or propaganda posters, advertising or leaflets, photographs or paintings… Many media have conveyed the representation of the „Other“ as a being stigmatised in his or her difference, be it ethnic, religious,cultural or sexual. They are part of a visual culture that has contributed for centuries to shaping truncated relationships, marked by psychological violence and even extermination.
Nowadays, even the art world seems to have convinced itself that it is not concerned with discrimination, and forgets that public museum collections are full of looted works. Worse, invisibilisation has a mirror effect: the overexposure, almost marketing, of a handful of artists considered „non-white“. A new politically correct exoticism has slowly been established. If one tries to address the issue, most of the time languages are tied up in theatres and art centres refer to the programming they dedicate to „diversity“.
Understanding what is not apparent
A few years ago, the Austrian artist Christian Eisenberger gave me an undated photograph that once belonged to the collections of the Museum für Völkerkunde in Vienna. This black and white image of black women doing their hair, with their breasts exposed, was not taken by just any photographer, but by Heinrich Harrer. Harrer, the mountaineer, the explorer, the hero, whose myth was brutally shattered one day in the spring of 1997, when a young Austrian journalist, Gerald Lehner,came to present him with the contents of a file that had been lying dormant for more than fifty years in the archives of the Third Reich kept in Washington. A pinkfile. „Harrer, Heinrich, born on 6 July 1912. SS, Section 38, Number 73896.“Harrer denied it, got carried away, until the reporter laid an SS application on the table. „Is this your handwriting?“ „Yes.“ We do not know where the photograph was taken. We can only speculate. Most probably during one of his many expeditions, such as the one during which he made the first ascent of the Carstensz pyramid in Western New Guinea, the highest point in Oceania, in 1962… Beyond appearances, what is at stake in this picture is the relationship between Nature and Culture. What probably moves Harrer here are these „wild“, naked, „pure“, „innocent“ beauties, indulging in an aesthetic ritual intended to make them even more beautiful, while in Europe the crises follow one another…
Hair is at the centre of the photograph. Far from the barbarity of the shearing of prisoners, camp inmates, women accused of „horizontal collaboration“ during the Second World War, here the hair is intended to reveal intimacy, seduction and, beyond that, an underlying sexuality.
The question of the off-screen obviously runs through this photograph. What about the off-screen when it comes to memory and transmission? Wouldn’t it be to the field what holes are to memory, gaps to history, unspoken words to speech?
Trying to understand what is not apparent, what is not there, in front of us, what is not presented and tangible, seems to me to be essential before we can imagine being able to project ourselves into the future.
We often hear that, in any case, „history is doomed to repeat itself“? This idea of repetition cancels out any possibility that history, historical events, will bring something new. History would be the continual repetition of the same, as in an eternal restart. One has the impression that history, since it does not bring anything new, somehow escapes man, who undergoes it but does not make it. It is as if history is autonomous and man is not an actor. If we affirm that history repeats itself, we obliterate in a way, we omit the question of freedom in history: man would not be „free“ to act and transform the world since everything would systematically return to the same thing. Yet is man not, by essence and because of his quality as an agent, free, unpredictable, at least partially? Is history not also the result of human actions?
History, rather than being a simple repetition, would then be in part a source of novelty, of surprise, of the unexpected.
Thinking about history?
„Only the present is, the before and after are not; but the concrete present is the result of the past and is full of the future. The true Present is, therefore, eternity“, said Heidegger in Being and Time (1927).
In front of each image, as in front of Heinrich Harrer’s photo, we must know how to reverse our position and ask ourselves how this image looks at us… How it thinks about us, how it touches us. The inversion of the positions between the viewer and the object being viewed allows us to enlarge the field of vision of history.
Fighting against invisibility, naming in order to make it exist, seem to me to be the indispensable conditions for appropriating our thoughts and our existence. Naming our present differently, characterising it differently, produces new points of view from which new questions and answers, new collective subjects asking these questions and affirming these answers can appear.
In »A deep quicky sweep« the idea would be to share selected images and to decipher the different layers of this hatred of the Other in a historical, cultural and thematic perspective. To understand the construction of this discourse over time is to participate in its deconstruction…
A striking visual history.

Elisabeth Bakambamba Tambwe describes her artistic practice as “the art of encounter”. The encounter with the Other is at the heart of her research-creation problematic. Her quest for the Other is part of her sensitive and aesthetic field of knowledge. Her work also allows her to question the way in which art addresses the Other, or even co-produces a work with another. The encounter with the Stranger is at the centre of her practice. Or should we say her practices: Performances, shows or installations play with the multiplication of points of view (Golden Baby), the transformation of spaces (Carré Noir / Congo Na Chanel), the thwarting of stereotypes (La Philosophie Banane), questioning time (Hairy Guns) and bodies (Flesh / Anomalic / Abstraction). For Elisabeth Bakambamba Tambwe, perception is one of the means of crossing spaces without summoning borders. A rule is imposed: do not contemplate but prefer to penetrate the image, question it and thus leave time for it to look at us in order to question the past time.
Fermentage in der dritten Etage
A T T E N T I O N : Unfortunately the event has to be cancelled due to illness!
Fermentation is the transformation of food by microorganisms such as bacteria, molds or yeasts. These microorganisms transform sugars into other substances. They turn white cabbage into sauerkraut, carrots and radishes into pickles, apple juice into vinegar and milk into yogurt. In an – only seemingly – chaotic process, something is transformed and made edible and durable. A magical process. In a cozy evening, vorschlag:hammer and a group of interested people will pickle sauerkraut and other vegetables together in a VHS atmosphere in the Ballhaus Ost. You’ll chop cabbage and vegetables, knead the cabbage, and put it in jars. Maybe there will be some input on sauerkraut. Maybe there are some inputs on lactobacteria or yeasts. Maybe there are inputs on messy processes. In any case, there is eating and drinking together.
And then it takes time. The evening seeps into the memories. The microorganisms do what they do. After six weeks, the time has come and the participants can open their jars. And perhaps the memory of the time spent together will be awakened: What has stuck? Which flavors resonate? Which phrases have taken on a new flavor? What now has a sour aftertaste?
No previous experience required, but welcome.
Theaterfilm-Festival: Party
The Direction djs. To the entire festival program
Theaterfilm-Festival: »Autistische Spiele«
46’, dt./engl. with dt./engl. ST
Through the careful yet distanced observation of his autistic brother, visual artist and director Tobias Yves Zintel tells of the intrusion of the radically different and the non-semanticizable into the protective space of the family. Together with the psychiatrist and author Przemek Zybowski, he analyzes the spectrum that opens up between the poles of “healthy” and “sick”. In the biographical detail, the relationship of a “sick” brother to his family, the social figure of the autist becomes visible as an allegory for the proclamation of the unspeakable in the current public discourse.
Theaterfilm-Festival: »Doom (The Movie)«
40’, no spoken Language
The Movie is Layton Lachman and Samuel Hertz‘s contribution to rhythms, textures and ways of being-with, together. Even as apocalypses bloom around us, they dance non-stop and launch into a doom-metal concert, howling the approach to the end of the world — a collective grieving and celebration in the face of oncoming doom. They invite us to see, feel, and hear the slow changes of an ending world, and yet propose a non-fatalistic way of attending to each other with care, imagining alternatives to the end-of-days scenario.
Theaterfilm-Festival: »Fallsucht«
37’, dt. with engl. ST
DE, 2021
The Film tells of a disease surrounded by the aura of mystery: epilepsy. Sacred, prophetic, sinful, unruly, possessed by demons. A primal human fear, materialized in a disease that threatens peace. It is this uncontrollable that our society seeks again and again to cope with by pushing it away or even disqualifying it as a way of life. In Fallsucht, Lara Scherpinski examines her body as an archive of family and cultural history, as a reservoir of myths and social debates about normality and otherness. She searches for the aesthetic representability of an inner state that oscillates between ecstasy and pain, between visibility and invisibility, and banishes her to a social isolation.
Theaterfilm-Festival: »Oh My Film«
12’, dt. with engl. ST
DE/ES/AR, 2020
The theater collective Henrike Iglesias from Berlin creates and directs a theater performance about feminist and queer pornography and sexualities. Behind the scenes they face the challenges of collective work and the liberation of their own sexualities.
Theaterfilm-Festival: »Der DJ ist mein Vater«
100’ dt./ engl./ bulg. with engl. ST
DE, 2021
An adult daughter searches for her deceased father, searches for stories – and the patriarchy in herself. She stages a dream-like journey with theater, music and film, during which strange and humorous, blurry and distressing moments ask for father traces in the daughter’s existence. In this game of forgetting, holding on and letting go, she encounters questions: about her own female socialized self, about origin, social class, ideas of achievement, beauty, love, sexuality and emotional education. What belongs to her, what to her father, what to both, what to time? And is she really alone?
Theaterfilm-Festival: »Arbeiterinnen / Pracujące kobiety«
73’, dt./pol. with dt./pol. ST
DE/PL, 2021
Six life stories of women in Poland and Germany that turned out differently than hoped: »Arbeiterinnen« tells the story of the experience of social decline related to the loss of work across three generations. For over a year werkgruppe2 conducted interviews with women from working-class families in the industrial regions of Lower Silesia and the Ruhr. The film is a touching and intimate portrait of women in Poland and Germany who are among the socially excluded and poses the urgent question of mutual solidarity.
Theaterfilm-Festival: »How to get rid of a body. A video tutorial series«
50’, no Language/engl.
Using synthetic moss, zebra patterns, green screens and magic tricks, choreographer and performer Léonard Engel relentlessly attempts to leave his own body behind in a series of short films. Taking his cue from YouTube tutorials, animal documentaries or meditation videos, he twists, chops, multiplies limbs and images, oscillating between hidden creature, hunting figure and morphing monster. An alienation through visual tricks doomed to fail, exposing a body that reminds us of its material existence and its own mortality.
Theaterfilm-Festival: »Keshava / Tharayil«
8’, dt./engl./malayalam/kannada/sanskrit/telugu with engl. ST
CH, 2021
In »Keshava/Tharayil« Anjali and Sumitra Keshava and Ralph and Norwin Tharayil face each other as Indian-Swiss sibling couples. In the context of a fictitious dance lesson, the authors attempt to learn forms of the classical Indian dance art Bharatanatyam from the two dancers. By moving, twisting and bending their bodies, a critical dance conversation gradually emerges in which the Keshavas and the Tharayils explore questions of identity, belonging and cultural (re)presentation.
Theaterfilm-Festival: »Brigitte Reimann besteigt den Mont Ventoux«
68’, dt.
DE, 2021
Based on Petrarch’s account of his 14th-century mountain ascent, which has been called the “birth of alpinism,” as well as on the work of Brigitte Reimann, who decisively shaped the genre of arrival literature that had grown up in the GDR, Film invites us to examine the idea of climax, of caesura, of reorientation and new orientation. The unequal pair of writers inscribe themselves in a mountain story between Provençal nature and socialist everyday production, between beginning and end, arrival and farewell.
Theaterfilm-Festival: »Ori Cleanse«
49’, engl./fr./port. with engl. ST
Six Black dancers with diverse biographical and dance backgrounds develop new ways of thinking, being and acting. They determine images and ideas they have of themselves and how they want to be seen by others. The film illuminates the world of thought and the process behind a dance performance by Grupo Oito: “Cleanse/Nu” is a political statement, a performative self-empowerment and cleansing. The title of the film, Orí, is Yoruba and means head – the head as the key to one’s own emancipation and as a connection to the spiritual world.
Theaterfilm-Festival: »Die Zweitbesetzung«
14’, dt.
DE, 2021
Actress Lola Mercedes Wittstamm is playing director Zeno Gries in front of the camera and presents the work that is in progress in that same moment. Through the roles of actress – director, whose power relationship constantly changes, the thematic focal points such as representation and identity, original versus adaptation become apparent. But since Lola‘s task as an actress is to be Zeno Gries, it also remains unclear whether she is not actually the director of this film.
Club Real
As part of the online durational festival »It’s about time«. Club Real übernimmt die Zeitmessung von »It’s about time«. In welcher Einheit messen wir ein unendlich durational Performancefestival? Die Zeitlichkeit des digitalen Festivals bringen die Künstler:innen mit planetaren Arbeitszeiten der Industriegesellschaft zusammen: die Ewigkeitsaufgaben, die der Kohleabbau dem Ruhrgebiet aufgetragen hat, stehen der Flüchtigkeit des Theaters gegenüber und das Erdzeitalter wird mit dem Stundenlohn verrechnet. Club Real entwickelt seit 2000 partizipative, ortsspezifische Projekte. Installationen, Eins-zu-Eins-Begegnungen, politische Rollenspiele und partizipative Stadtentwicklungsprojekte laden die Besucher:innen dazu ein, alternative Realitätsentwürfe mitzugestalten.
Máquina P.O.P.aganda
As part of the online durational festival »It’s about time«. Adbusting gegen die Diskrimierung HIV-infizierter Menschen: In vier zehnstündigen Livestreams nimmt die Künstler:innengruppe GRUPO D3 CHOK3 uns mit zu ihren spektakulären Aktionen in Mexiko Stadt. Mit Propagandatechniken verändern sie die Inhalte von Werbeplakaten in ihrem Sinne und bringen ihre Botschaften in den öffentlichen Raum – und ins Netz. Akt 4: 01. Dezember 2021 Akt 3: 31. Oktober 2021 Akt 2: 3. Oktober 2021 Akt 1: 11. September 2021
The Mother in Me is the Mother in You II
As part of the online durational festival »It’s about time«. Sie ist wieder da! Zum Jahresabschluss findet Felizitas Stilleke zurück zu ihrer Auseinandersetzung rund um das Themenfeld Nicht-/Noch-nicht-/nicht-mehr-/Vielleicht-/Mutterschaft und ihrem freundschaftlichen Spiel mit der Auflösung binärer Normen und Rollenfragen dazu. Auf Einladung des Festivals »It’s about time« nimmt Felizitas sich selbige und vertieft ihr Ausloten performativer Räume für ein thematisches Fass ohne Boden. Denn so schnell ließen sich die Fragen rund um Mutterschaften nicht überschreiben, geschweige denn abschließen! Verstärkung naht! Eigens für das Festival reist ihre Freundin, genannt Smu, aus Bangalore an. Endlich verbringen sie Zeit IRL und teilen im Anschluss oder auch immer mal wieder mittendrin ihre Begegnung, die vor nunmehr 1,5 Jahren als wöchentlicher Zoomaustausch über Nicht-Mutterschaft eine Form und mit den Sister Misfortune Tarotkarten schließlich eine Stimme fand. Nach einer neuen Podcastsession, live aus dem Ballhaus Ost, lädt Smu als optimale Einstimmung für die nahenden Festtage und das kommende Jahr zu persönlichen 1:1 Tarotkartenlegungen der Sister Misfortune ins Ballhaus ein. Welche Göttin weist dir den Weg aus und in ein Leben ohne Mutterschaftsfragen und welche hört deine Ängste diesbezüglich? In (d)einer halbstündigen Session wird sie spürbar, die Sisterhood, die Felizitas und Smu verbindet. Daher bildet die Kraft dieser feministischen Storytelling-Praxis in Form des Tarots ihr großes Finale: als Video-Tutorials zum Selbermachen! Link zum Podcast
An endless rug
As part of the online durational festival »It’s about time«. Der Begriff Tufting (englisch to tuft – mit Büscheln verzieren) oder deutsch Tuften bezeichnet eine Technik zur Herstellung dreidimensionaler textiler Flächen. Es ist das weltweit am häufigsten eingesetzte Verfahren zur Herstellung von Teppichböden.Teppiche sind nicht nur warm an den Füßen, sie erzählen Geschichten, stecken Territorien ab, sind die Gärten des Wohnzimmers und mit manchen kann man sogar fliegen! In den Ländern des Nahen und Mittleren Ostens waren sie lange Zeit der wichtigste Besitz einer Familie. Es gibt Orientteppiche, die nicht größer als ein Papiertaschentuch sind und als Gastgeschenk mitgebracht werden, und Teppiche, die 1000 Quadratmeter groß sind und Paläste schmücken. Der größte, im Iran handgeknüpfte Teppich der Welt ist fast 6000 Quadratmeter groß und besteht aus 45 Tonnen Wolle und Baumwolle.Ein Teppich markiert einen Raum, trennt ihn von seiner Umgebung. Der Teppich macht das, was er umrahmt, zu etwas Einzigartigem und Exklusivem. Teppiche verkörpern mächtige Symbole in verschiedenen Kulturen und waren nicht nur in 1001 Nacht mit Magie verbunden. Barbara Lenartz wird für It’s about time einen (möglichst) unendlich langen Teppich tuften. Vom 25. bis 29. Januar kann der Tuftingprozess jeden Tag von 11 bis 18 Uhr im Stream live mitverfolgt werden.Am 30. Januar um 17.00 Uhr MEZ werden dann die entstandenen Pieces of Rug im Rahmen einer Online-Live-Auktion versteigert. Auf dem Instagram Channel instagram.com/endlessrug/ werden die Pieces tagesaktuell kuratiert und präsentiert. Schriftliche Gebote können dort bis zum 30.01.22 14:00 MEZ eingereicht werden und gelten dann als Startgebot.Der Erlös der Auktion geht zu 100% an die Berliner Kältehilfe.
Bleibt ihr noch zum Essen?
As part of the online durational festival »It’s about time«. »So lange man über mich redet und meine Geschichte erzählt wird, so lange bin ich nicht tot.« (Margot) Am 1. April trafen wir, das Markus&Markus Theaterkollektiv, Margot zum ersten Mal. Am 22. Mai waren wir auf ihrer Beerdigung. In unserer Inszenierung »Ibsen: Gespenster« haben wir mit einer Protagonistin gearbeitet, die ihren eigenen Tod mit einer Schweizer Sterbehilfeorganisation geplant hat. Wir begleiteten die 81-jährige Margot während ihrer letzten Tage in Düsseldorf, beim Ordnen ihrer Dinge, den letzten Arztbesuchen, Abschiedsfesten und schließlich auf ihrem Weg nach Basel. All das haben wir mit der Kamera festgehalten.Wir verbrachten drei ihrer vier letzten Lebenswochen mit Margot. 80 Stunden Videomaterial sind in dieser Zeit entstanden. Am Abend des ersten gemeinsamen langen Tages fragte sie uns: »Bleibt ihr noch zum Essen?« – und wir blieben. Am nächsten Tag stand ein Ausflug auf dem Programm. Aber zuvor wurde zum Auftakt Kaffee getrunken. An manchen Tagen diente das Essen dem Krafttanken. Oft bildete die gemeinsame Zeit am Esstisch den Tagesabschluss. Unser Ziel war stets, es bei einem Essen pro Tag zu belassen. Aber dieser Plan ging nur selten auf. Die Essen strukturierten unsere Tage mit Margot.Zu diesen Essen laden wir nun dich ein. Komm zu uns an den Tisch, auf einen Keks, ein Getränk oder das ganze Menu. Für eine Minute, ein Essen oder das volle Programm. »Bleibt ihr noch zum Essen?« umfasst neun Essen in einem unverblümten Directors Cut. Die Inszenierung vor der Inszenierung. Im April 2022 jährt sich diese Begegnung zum achten Mal. Die Essen finden also online im April an neun Tagen zur Originalzeit – nur eben acht Jahre später – statt. Zum Abschluss gibt es an einem Wochenende noch einmal alle Essen hintereinander. Vorab bekommst du für jedes Essen eine Einkaufsliste – um dich dann gemeinsam mit uns am Tisch Kartoffelsalat, König Pilsener, Kaffee, Kuchen und Kurbelkäse widmen zu können.Und jetzt fragen wir: »Bleibt ihr noch zum Essen?«
Gib mir noch Zeit | Keine Zeit | Time of your Life | Was ist Zeit | Auszeit | Siesta
Im Rahmen von IAT – It’s about time
»Ich will mehr Zeit.
Genau, ich will mehr Zeit!
Gib mir mehr Zeit.
Dass man auch mal mehr machen kann.
Sonst würde das Leben ja langweilig werden, wenn es keine Zeit gibt.
Abends geht die Zeit schlafen, morgens steht sie auf.
Genau wie wir, das machen wir auch.
Das machen im Moment ganz viele.
Und was machst du?
Wozu hast du nie Zeit?«
(Station 17)
Im Rahmen von »It’s about time« treffen sich vt corp. (Max Gadow und Hannah Müller) ingesamt sechs Mal mit jeweils einem Gast, um sich dieser Sache anzunähern. Beginnend mit der Frage, die jeder Gast beantwortet haben muss: »Wofür hast du nie Zeit?«
Und dann nehmen sie sie sich, die Zeit. Kurz oder lang, entspannt oder gestresst. Auf jeden Fall eine Auszeit. Bis die Zeit aus ist. Dann hört es auf.
Gib mir noch Zeit | Keine Zeit | Time of your Life | Was ist Zeit | Auszeit | Siesta ist ein Onlineformat, dauert genau so lange, wie es sich eben ergibt und wird live aus dem Ballhaus Ost ausgestrahlt.
17. Dezember 2022
Das Jahr neigt sich dem Ende zu und Xmas lauert vor der Tür.. Der Stress steht uns auf die Stirn geschrieben denn unsere Uhren zeigen alle das gleiche an: KEINE ZEIT, KEINE ZEIT! Also down the rabbit hole it goes: Wofür hatten wir dieses Jahr so gar keine keine Zeit? Was habe ich alles verpasst zu erledigen? Welche Geschenke müssen noch besorgt werden? Was mache ich, wenn ich mit Weihnachten nichts am Hut hab? Und was musst du unbedingt noch tun, damit du so richtig smooth ins Jahr 2023 rutschen kannst? Für all diese Fragen und Sorgen versuchen wir in der vorerst letzten Sendung von »Gib mir noch Zeit | Keine Zeit | Time of your Life | Was ist Zeit | Auszeit | Siesta« Antworten zu finden. Oder eben aber auch nicht !!! Denn zu Gast ist diesmal: die Überraschung! Und dafür nehmen wir uns kurz vor Xmas ausnahmsweise mal so richtig viel Zeit .
16. Juli 2022 | – fällt leider aus-
Elizabeth Prentis aka Lizzie hat nie Zeit um ihre Seele in der Natur baumeln zu lassen und sich mal so richtig zu entspannen. Auch wenn sie die Natur gar nicht so mag, denkt sie man sollte sich das schon mal gönnen. Genauso wie ein leckeres Essen, in Lissabon am Strand zu liegen und zur Maniküre zu gehen. Das mag Lizzie besonders gerne und deswegen nimmt sie sich auch Zeit dafür, obwohl die Zeit ihr eher davon rennt. Trotzdem möchte sie nicht noch mehr davon haben, denn das ist immer mit Stress verbunden. Ist Lizzie nicht gestresst, dann benötigt sie auch nicht mehr Zeit, weil sie diese ja dann bereits genießt. Könnte Lizzie die Uhr zurück drehen, dann würde sie am liebsten als Lerche verkleidet zu den Dinosauriern fliegen. Das fände sie cool. gestreamt aus Lissabon.
22. April 2022 | mit Monika Oschek:
Monika Oschek hat nie Zeit zum Inlineskaten. Vor allem das Bremsen kommt immer zu kurz und die Kissen aus Madeira, die müssen auch endlich bestickt werden. Außerdem fragt sie sich, wer eigentlich erfunden hat, dass die Zeit so lange dauert, wie sie eben dauert.
Sie trägt keine Uhr, dabei hätte sie so gern noch mehr Zeit. Wahrscheinlich damit sie dann Karaoke singen, Werwolf spielen und Choreographien tanzen kann. Denn dafür hat sie auch kaum Zeit.
Für Monika stoppt die Zeit genau dann, wenn sie mit Wodka der Sonne entgegen durch den Wald läuft. Das klingt vielleicht nach Alkoholismus, ist es aber nicht. Wodka ist ihr Hund und für den nimmt sie sich immer Zeit. Und für Wellness. Am liebsten mag Moni die Uhrzeit 14 Uhr, weil da die besten Sendungen auf Vox laufen. Oder 18 Uhr. Da kann sie dann endlich Feierabend machen.
Es beginnt um 18.30 Uhr und dauert so lange wie es eben dauert.
25. Februar 2022 | mit Felizitas Stilleke:
Felizitas Stilleke hat nie Zeit, um über die Jahre gesammeltes auf Ebay zu verkaufen oder sich mit Kapitalanlagen zu beschäftigen. Sie trägt eine Uhr am rechten Handgelenk, hat ganz schön viel Zeit und hätte gerne noch mehr – keine Frage! Keine Zeit zu haben findet sie aber auch gut, weil ihr das so richtig Dampf unterm Kessel macht. Und so wie Dampf stellt sie sich auch die Zeit vor, farblos und strömend – oder so wie Wind. Sie ist definitiv eine Leule, geht also gerne spät ins Bett und steht genauso gerne früh auf. Sie wird 109 Jahre alt werden, aber mit dem Tod braucht man ihr nicht zu kommen. Sie hat Geräte, um die Zeit zu stoppen, weiß aber, dass das der Zeit eigentlich egal ist.
Letztendlich wartet sie jeden Tag bloß darauf, dass die Uhr 23:10 anzeigt – ihre Lieblingsuhrzeit.
12 Months – A Year
As part of It’s about time
»Time is something that scares me … or used to. This piece I made with the two clocks was the scariest thing I have ever done. I wanted to face it. I wanted those two clocks right in front of me, ticking.«
Felix González-Torres, 1991
»12 Months — A Year« is a durational film project by ONCE WE WERE ISLANDS made as part of the online festival »It’s about time«.
Starting in November 2021, Aslan and Gylee will create and release a five-minute film every month for one year. Each monthly chapter will be released on the final day of the month and will add to the previous films, accumulating in real-time. The full 60-minute work will be completed and released on 31st October 2022.
»12 Months — A Year« is inspired by durational artforms including the soap opera, the serialisation of the novel in the 19th century, films that stretch and compress time (»Empire«, »24-Hour Psycho«, »The Clock«, »Boyhood«), and the inevitably diverging clocks of González-Torres’s sculpture »Untitled (Perfect Lovers)«.
Simple questions with formidable answers: We ask who we are now, who we will be a year from now, and what the nature may be of the trajectory between these two points in time.
»This was fiction and yet no one knew where the story was headed because time was its unpredictable collaborator.«
Kate Kellaway, interview with Richard Linklater & Ellar Coltrane, 2014
ONCE WE WERE ISLANDS work in the fertile ground between disciplines, combining visual art, performance, choreographic methodologies, and research. The two performers, originally from Manchester and London, employ (auto)biographical narrative as well as meticulous research on the realities of Queer lives in their poetic works.
October
»I started out in search of ordinary things
How much a tree bends in the wind
I started telling the story without knowing the end …«
Bill Callahan, »Jim Cain«, 2009
September
»Sometimes you bend down to tie your shoe, and then you either tie your shoe or you don’t. Every choice begets at least two worlds of possibility. It’s possible, too, that there is no such thing as one clear line or strand of probability, and that we live on a twisted braid, blurring from one to the other without even knowing it, as long as we keep within the limits of a set of variations. Thus the paradox of time travel ceases to exist, for the Past one visits is never one’s own Past, but always somebody else’s; or rather, one’s visit to the Past instantly creates another Present (one in which the visit had already happened) …«
Joanna Russ, »The Female Man«, 1975
August
»The places we are born come back. They disguise themselves as migraines, stomach aches, insomnia. They are the way we sometimes wake falling, fumbling for the bedside lamp, certain everything we’ve built has gone in the night.«
Daisy Johnson, »Everything Under«, 2018
July
»We have no need of other worlds. We need mirrors. We don’t know what to do with other worlds. A single world, our own, suffices us; but we can’t accept it for what it is.«
Stanisław Lem, »Solaris«, 1961
June
»I seem to keep thinking things have already happened. When you asked if I remembered about the party and the ceremony, I thought you meant, did I remember having gone to them. And I did remember. I seem to have fallen out of time …The party and ceremony are tonight. In the future … In a way, I understand. But, you see, I seem to have gone into the future, too. I have a distinct recollection of the party that hasn’t happened yet. I remember the award ceremony perfectly.«
Michael Cunningham, »The Hours«, 1998
May
»‘Love’, this English word: like other English words it has tense. ‘Loved’ or ‘will love’ or ‘have loved’. All these specific tenses mean Love is time-limited thing. Not infinite. It only exist in particular period of time.«
Xiaolu Guo, »A Concise Chinese-English Dictionary for Lovers«, 2007
April
»When was that? When did I stop getting old? Time passes by me like the wind. Maybe the cord that bound me to time broke when I lost my words.«
Yoko Tawada, »Scattered All Over The Earth«, 2018
March
»I believe in an alchemy of time … I believe we can make time … Does naming time generate time? Rehearsal is a great name for time, solitude another. Clock into darkness. Clock into leave. Falling, a time. What if we all agreed to live a year on moon time shunning the sun … The most crucial and most queer thing I can say is that these thoughts are all about that which is unseen in time. All that exists and goes unnamed, uncounted, disregarded. In a queer life you use and re-use shards of time, search out references, create your own constellation and pull small threads forward. You dig and discover all that was, in its time, against the continuity of its time.«
Every Ocean Hughes FKA Emily Roysdon, »Uncounted«, 2012-2015
February
»You know, I’ve got a funny feeling // I’ve seen this all before. // Why? // Cause I’m a caveman. // Why? // Cause I’ve got eyes in the back of my head. // Why? // It’s the heat. // Standby. // This is the time. // And this is the record of the time.«
Laurie Anderson, »From the Air«, 1982
January
»The threads of time have their knots and tangles, and every so often there is a symmetry, every once in a while something repeats, as if refrains and motifs were controlling them, a troubling thing to notice. Such order tends to overburden the mind, which cannot know how to respond. Chaos has always seemed more familiar and safe, like the disarray in your own drawer«
Olga Tokarczuk, »The Books of Jacob«, 2014
December
»The way one does research into nonexistent history is to tell the story and find out what happened. I believe this isn’t very different from what historians of the so-called real world do. Even if we are present at some historic event, do we comprehend it — can we even remember it — until we can tell it as a story? And for events in times or places outside our own experience, we have nothing to go on but the stories other people tell us. Past events exist, after all, only in memory, which is a form of imagination. The event is real now, but once it’s then, its continuing reality is entirely up to us, dependent on our energy and honesty. If we let it drop from memory, only imagination can restore the least glimmer of it. If we lie about the past, forcing it to tell a story we want it to tell, to mean what we want it to mean, it loses its reality, becomes a fake.«
Ursula K. Le Guin, »Tales from Earthsea«, 2015
November
»Something changed in the world. Not too long ago, it changed, and we know it. We don’t know how to explain it yet, but I think we all can feel it somewhere deep in our gut or in our brain circuits. We feel time differently. No one has quite been able to capture what it happening or say why. Perhaps it’s just that we sense an absence of future, because the present has become too overwhelming, so the future has become unimaginable. And without future, time feels only like an accumulation. An accumulation of months, days, natural disasters, television series, terrorist attacks, divorces, mass migrations, birthdays, photographs, sunrises … We haven’t understood how space and time exist now, how we really experience them.«
Valeria Luiselli, »Lost Children Archive«, 2019