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Visualization for GAU – End

sreda, december 26th, 2007

From Report No. 2 (The Ana D Book; pg. 40)


        Eugène Boudin
        Beach at Trouville /1864/1865
        (27 x 49.1 cm; Oil on wood)

(…) However, the little miss with fiery red hair and greenish eyes was far from stupid. Friendly insults were interspersed with clichés about Zeitgeist and Wiener-Geist and we immediately arranged to go and view Rembrandt’s etchings at CD. We then went to mine, so that she could tell the tales of the past few months. I gave her the bookmark with a reproduction of Boudin’s Beach at Trouville, where the young Flaubert found the red-and-black shawl of Elise Foucault-Schlesinger and his unhappiness. She looked at me in surprise when I mentioned that I too have a lot of that dark normandism in me that hates life and every thought of having to live through it. She left some time after midnight and in spite of wanting to, I did not dare ask if I may touch her. In two days’ time, it was going to be Saturday and while still standing in the doorway, she invited me to come to the market with her. If a moment before I was still regretting the bagatelle I had given her, the invitation filled me with such excess of gratitude that I agreed while blushing furiously, perhaps more because I was ashamed of myself than of the suddenly uncovered lust. Margot looked at me quizzically and then, after having counted to four, her cheeks grew slightly pink as well. I could see her hesitating, but a moment later, having thanked me again for the Boudin bookmark , she scampered down the stairs. When she left, I tried to keep myself in check. I nervously paced up and down the living room, then gave up, went to the kitchen and took the kitchen towel off the worktop.

From Report No. 2 (The Ana D Book; pg. 47)


        Kasimir Malevich
        The Red Cavalry Riding / 1928-1932
        (90 x 140 cm; Oil on canvas)

(…) I was equally unable to smile the next day around midday, when nervous and cross with myself, I was coming back to those stones from the opposite direction. I wasn’t sure whether I would hold it against her more if she did or if she didn’t come. It occurred to me I could hide and see whether she took my word game literally or whether, overcome by a sense of decorum, she kept for herself at least a small fraction of the century on offer. Then I thought I might not like either of the possible solutions. That I never like any solution! The Sunday street was deserted when I walked past the spot where we had met the day before. The pavement was still showing patches of citron yellow and cobalt blue. Children wish for that kind of sky and that kind of sun. There are times when even masters are led astray by such illusions and false perspectives. I think even Malevich allowed himself to write the absurdity that cobalt sky led him to paint in sunny hues and to Impressionism. And that from the author of the Suprematist cross and the man who was able to paint white on white. I felt like crying, even though I had long since forgotten how. I was increasingly convinced I shall only snivel when I am saying goodbye. Sad.

        Kasimir Malevich
        Black Cross /1923
        (106 x 106.5 cm; Oil on canvas)
        Kasimir Malevich
        White on White /1918
        (79.4 x 79.4 cm; Oil on canvas)
  • Visualization for GAU – Part VI

    torek, december 25th, 2007

    From Report No. 9 (The Ana D Book; pg. 261)


          Johann Heinrich Fuessli
          (Henry Fuseli)

          Nightmare /1781
          (127 x 102 cm; Oil on canvas)

    (...) We went again down the same roads to the west, north-west. I then took a sharp turn round one of the corners. We sped down a slope, joyfully braking. So that we squeaked down Freud’s Berggasse with backsides flying in the air. Child B grew concerned about the paper that I had in my saddle bag hanging off the luggage rack. I had to take the bag all the way to the second floor and leave it under the museum’s supervision in the hall that used to belong to Dr Freud. We spent a long time going from room to room, retracing our steps, although by far the longest was spent scrutinising the antique statuettes from the psychoanalyst’s private collection. Each time, we squatted next to those, repeatedly and extensively. So extensively that the other visitors had to pluck up the courage and start to complain loudly. With my mobile, I took two crazy phalluses and a tiny red satyr. We twice returned to the Nightmare by the painter J.H. Fuseli, given to the master by Eernst Jones, author of the essay On the Nightmare from 1912. I was attracted by the certificate of Honorary Citizen of Vienna. The decorative sketch of Oedipus and the Sphinx was painted on to the document in water colours by Max Pollak in 1924. Dr F. was in fact made the thirty-third honorary citizen of Vienna. I still maintain that the famous Jew should have been the Londoner from 39 Elsworthy Road, where he fled from the incursion of the home-bred Barbarians, rather than a Viennese from 19 Berggasse. This was further confirmed after Child and I inspected the documentary images of the ecstatic Vienna just before the Anschluss.

        Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres
        Oedipus and the Sphinx /1808
        (189 x 144 cm; Oil on canvas)

    From Report No. 9 (The Ana D Book; pg. 249)


        Gustav Klimt
        Beethoven frieze (Side Wall) – detail /1902
        (2,15 – 2,00 x 34,14 m; Casein paint, gold paint, black and color chalk, graphite. Applied plaster and various appliqué materials)

    (…) Lower down in the food market we later bought some Tuscan bread with olives, disgracefully expensive fresh figs, two baklavas and a large wedge of Dachsteiner. We went to the Secession and she only admired Klimt and the Beethoven frieze. In the afternoon, we lounged around and made love. The evening was spent looking at Viennese monographs and listening to Urlicht, homage to Gustav Mahler. When she went to the bathroom, I sent the first message to Hana. After coming back, she first silently watched me texting and later went out onto the balcony. After the last message, I remained seated on the floor in the room. Thoughtful and perhaps a little melancholy. Child B knelt down to me.
    “What’s the matter...?”
    “I’m a bit sad...”
    “I know... ‘cos you were texting so slowly.”
    “I knew you would know!”
    “’Cos I was texting so slowly!”
    The paradox made her smile and she brushed my cheeks with her lips in understanding.



        Gustav Klimt
        Beethoven frieze (Side Wall) – detail /1902
        (2,15 – 2,00 x 34,14 m; Casein paint, gold paint, black and color chalk, graphite. Applied plaster and various appliqué materials)

    From Report No. 13 (The Ana D Book; pg. 353)

    (…) I only leave the study when I hear that Oki wants to listen to the New York Suicides again. And I enter the living room, where a look at the visitors reminds me that it is carnival time. Princess’ face has been changed into a wonderful lion’s mouth, just with a few colour applications and some imperceptible implants. The regular features of her companion have been altered in the same fashion into an ape from the Beethoven frieze in the cellar of the Vienna Secession. They were not wearing a costume, but their carefully chosen clothes with imaginative accessories made both friends into living caricatures that would grace any book illustration, inside or out.
    “Oscar?! An artist has finally managed to balance you out!!!”
    “Barbara, one sunny night, I shall cheerfully tear him to pieces!!!”



        Gustav Klimt
        Beethoven frieze (Narrow wall) – detail /1902
        (2,15 – 2,00 x 34,14 m; Casein paint, gold paint, black and color chalk, graphite. Applied plaster and various appliqué materials)
  • to be continued
  • Visualization for GAU – Part IV

    sreda, oktober 17th, 2007

    From Report No. 9 – SMS chapter (The Ana D Book; pg. 237):

    AUGUST 9 /Tuesday/

    Child (13:33)

    Peripat to CHILD (13:41)
    Tell, C, what has been?

    Child (13:44)
    ..don’t know.. how to..

    Peripat to CHILD (13:47)
    Then don’t be sad!
    Off to the KHM*!

    * abbreviation Kunst Historisches Museum; The Art History Museum (Ger.)

    Child (13:48)
    Have a good look
    and enjoy it for me
    as well..

          Asja (17:31)
          At 00:25 far from the
          river and near the
          forbidden city by
          Tiananmen Square, also
          within reach of the
          Great Wall, which will
          be our gift tomorrow..

          Peripat to ASJA (17:35)
          At 17:33, far from
          peace and close to
          Children’s Games by the
          Tower of Babel and
          within reach of
          Rembrandt’s son Titus
          who will be reading his
          book tomorrow as well .

    Pieter Breughel
    The Tower of Babel /1563
    (114 x 155 cm, Oil on wood)

          Asja (18:20)
          What wonderful things
          you are surrounded by..
          there at the KHM, hmmm,
          Rembrandt Harmensz van Rijn
          Titus van Rijn, the Artist`s Son, Reading /1656/57
          (70,5 x 64 cm,Oil on canvas)

    * Call Child in the evening, have a chat about the visit to the Museum: “I was not as delighted at seeing Breughel this time as I had hoped!”

    Child (20:12)

    Peripat to CHILD (20:18)
    C’ David, H’s Ages of Man,
    R’s Titus and his granny, and
    also D’s Venetian Lady..

      Caravaggio – Michelangelo Merisi
      David with the Head of Goliath /1606/07
      (90.5 x 116 cm, Oil on wood)
          Hans Baldung Grien
          The Three Ages of Man /1510
          (48 x 32,5 cm, Oil on wood)/
          ** A conscious mistake by Peripat?
          He had mistaken Baldung for Holbein!

    Child (20:31)

          Rembrandt Harmensz van Rijn
          Tha Artist's Mother as Prophetess Hannah

    Child (20:39)

          Albrecht Duerer
          Venetian Lady /1505
          (33 x 25 cm, Oil on wood)

    Peripat to CHILD (20:44)
    just sending the
    correction to the last.
    When writing, I was
    reminded of the Essay
    on Blindness and then
    immediately thought:

    Child (20:47)

    Peripat to CHILD (20:50)

    Child (20:53)
    OK,OK (C,R,H –
    immediately, not so D.
    Then picked up Larousse
    to verify.) FEEL I’M

    Peripat to CHILD (20:58)
    ONLY 160 SIGNS, YOU KNOW..?!

    From Report No. 9 (The Ana D Book; pg. 252):

    “Let’s go across,” she indicated the museum twins on the other side of Burggarten, “…to see your Pieter B and his Children’s Games…”

    Pieter Breughel
    Children’s Games /1560
    (118 x 161 cm, Oil on wood)

    When we were then walking past the Butterfly House and the self-satisfied iron and glass constructions, bolted and green, which made me think of the false times of Universal Exhibitions, Child B suddenly stopped. I stopped too. She was looking me straight in the eyes and there was no anger in her voice.
    “You gave birth to me and brought me up… Now you are no longer content with what I have become… You are looking for a chaste being on whom you could repeat the experiment…”
    “Be nice, you know I am only one. If I were two or three, then it would be easier. You know, like you, you too are only one…”
    She didn’t smile. She just looked away and continued on her way. I followed her. I chased her.
    “Look, you give me everything… Except her!”
    She made no reply, just started to put one foot in front of the other with more severity.
    “You are wrong… I am well aware that she lives in the world of consumption, not of love. In her world, no thing can spend a month intact, without getting gnawed…”
    Again, she stopped and looked at me.
    “I’ve told you before, she is crazily just so… I wish she became repulsive to my gaze.”
    I fell silent. We stood behind the Neue Burg. It was from the balcony opposite that Hitler declared the Anschluss.
    “If she does not repel my gaze, I will repel it myself…”
    “What you are saying is not good.”
    In the KHM we went straight to the Breughel room. We stopped longest in front of the Hunters in the Snow. As we were leaving, she asked me to take her to C’s David, H’s Ages of Man, R’s Titus and his granny and D’s Venetian Lady. We were able to laugh again. Her next question was also tinged with laughter.
    “What am I to do with you?”
    “If I’m a shoot, pluck me! If I’m a beast, kill me!”
    “At times I feel enormously guilty for still being normal!”

    Pieter Breughel
    Hunters in the Snow /1565
    (117 x 162 cm, Oil on wood)

  • to be continued
  • Visualization for GAU – Part III

    nedelja, september 30th, 2007

    (Translation incited by curiosity of an English speaking visitor of The Anna D Book home page /comment on the Visualization for GAU - Part III./)

    From Report No. 4 (The Ana D Book; pg. 67):

    (...) Child B had a desperately large toe on her left foot, horribly ugly and pink. Plebeian. In contrast, the whole of the rest of her body was most reminiscent of Modigliani’s Nude on a Sofa, from the Gianni Mattioli collection in Milan. The brush of the master from Livorno was painting Child. Everything is identical, from the hair on her head, to the dark eyes, to pubic hair and torso. The composition is severed so that on the right side of the canvas, the legs of the diagonally positioned nude are cut off at approximately mid thigh. On the opposite side, the left edge of the picture cuts off the voluptuously resting arms flung behind the head at the right palm, while the left is cushioning, hidden under the dark mane cut in a page-boy hairstyle. The painting does not show a single finger. No deformation. Neither hand nor foot. (...)

      Amedeo Modigliani;
      Nude on a Sofa /1917
      (60 x 92 cm, Oil on canavas)

    From Report No. 8 (The Ana D Book; pg. 216):

    (...) I knew I had to tell her. But I waited. Waited for the right time. ‘Waiting for time’, doesn’t that sound weak. In Goya’s Black Paintings there is a picture of Saturn devouring his own children. The god of time is represented very realistically, like a mad old man eating a human body five times smaller than himself as if it were a large sandwich. The father’s mouth had already gobbled up both arms and the head of the child. ‘Waiting for the right time’ is as weak as if the master from Castile gave that painting the title: ‘The God of Time Devours the Children Who Are Waiting for Their Time’. (...)

        Francisco Goya;
        Saturn devouring his Children /1624
        (146 x 83 cm, Fresco)

    From Report No. 7 (The Ana D Book; pg. 198):

    (...) “... You can believe me when I say that my cello and I, we never bob up and down on the dark waves behind Böcklin’s boat, somewhere near the Island of the Dead ..., we walk on it! ” (...)

    Arnold Boecklin;
    Island of the Dead /1880
    (111 x 155 cm, Oil on canavas)

    From Report No. 13 (The Ana D Book; pg. 373):

    “I will try to live again ... Rantz did too ...”
    He didn’t want to know who Rantz was. He didn’t ask.
    “Go to Madrid ..., visit the Prado. There, you will find Goya’s pictures from the Quinta del Sordo ...”
    “I know ..., the Dog Drowning ... Saturn devouring his Children ...”
    “Yes, ... that dog, he’s not afraid at all, just looking ...”

        Francisco Goya;
        The Dog Drowning
        ( 134 x 80 cm, Fresco)
        1621 Quinta del Sordo; Sp. The house of the deaf man

    Ibidem (pg. 374):

    (...) Outside, in front of the house, under the bare bulb over the door, he took a CD out of the pocket and offered it to me. I took it. It was one of the precious few examples I never managed to get hold of and had never heard. On the cover was Goya’s Dog, his head on a wild wave of troubled waters. And behind and in front of him, smooth cliffs like skyscrapers. (...)

    Ibidem (pg. 375):

    “Nothing dared come onto the road, not even a stray dog ...”
    Fedor did not say a word all the way to the corner at Kazina where I dropped him off.
    “Peripat, don’t do this again!”
    “Fedor, I have seen everything from the House of the Deaf Man ... Several times over!”

    Francisco Goya;
    (Detail, Fresco)
    1620 Quinta del Sordo