knjiga ana d.

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)

Iz II. POROČILA (Knjiga Ana D; str. 40)

Eugène Boudin
Plaža pri Trouvillu /1864/1865
(27 x 49.1 cm; olje na les)

(…) Gospodična z ognjeno rdečimi lasmi in zelenkastimi očmi nikakor ni bila neumna. Med prijateljskimi nesramnostmi sva izmenjala nekaj puhlic o Zeit-Geistu in Wiener-Geistu ter se zmenila za takojšen ogled Rembrandtovih jedkanic v CD-ju. Pozneje sva odšla k meni, da mi je povedala vse zgodbice zadnjih mesecev. Podaril sem ji knjižni označevalnik z Boudinovo reprodukcijo trouvillske plaže, kjer je mladi Flaubert našel rdeče-črno ogrinjalo Elise Foucault-Schlesinger in svojo nesrečo. Presenečeno me je pogledala, ko sem omenil, da je tudi v meni vse preveč tistega temnega normandizma, ki sovraži življenje in vsako misel na to, da ga bo treba preživeti. Odšla je nekaj po polnoči in kljub temu da sem si to želel, si je nisem upal niti vprašati, ali se je lahko dotaknem. Čez dva dni je bila sobota in med vrati me je povabila, naj jo spremim na trg. Če mi je bilo še hip pred tem žal podarjene bagatele, me je ob vabilu prevzel takšen presežek hvaležnosti, da sem močno zardel, lahko da bolj od sramu pred samim sabo kot zaradi nenadno razkritega poželenja. Margot me je začudeno pogledala in nato, ko je uspela prešteti do štiri, so še njej rahlo pordela lica. Videl sem, da okleva, vendar se mi je hip za tem še enkrat zahvalila za Boudinov bukmarker in odbrzela po stopnišču. Ko je odšla, sem se poskusil zadržati. Živčno sem se nekajkrat sprehodil po dnevni sobi, potem pa popustil, odšel v kuhinjo in s pulta vzel papirnato brisačo.
(…)

Iz II. POROČILA (Knjiga Ana D; str. 47)

Kazimir Malevič
Rdeča konjenica / 1928-1932
(90 x 140 cm; olje na platno)

(…) Nisem se mogel smehljati niti naslednji dan okrog poldneva, ko sem se ves nervozen in jezen sam nase iz nasprotne smeri spet vračal k istim kamnom. Nisem vedel, kaj ji bom bolj zameril, če bo prišla ali če je ne bo. Pomislil sem, da bi se lahko skril in tako videl, ali je mojo besedno igro vzela bukvalno ali pa jo je premagala spodobnost in si je vzela vsaj delček od ponujenega stoletja. Potem sem še pomislil, da mi mogoče ne bo všeč nobena od možnih rešitev. Da mi nikoli ni všeč nobena rešitev! Po nedeljsko opusteli ulici sem se sprehodil mimo prostora, kjer smo se dan pred tem sešli. Na tlaku so se še vedno videli madeži citronsko rumene in kobaltno modre. Otroci si želijo takšnega neba in takšnega sonca. Včasih iluzije in zlagane perspektive zavedejo še mojstre. Mislim, da je celo Malevič nekoč zapisal nekaj tako abotnega, kot da ga je kobaltno modro nebo privedlo do slikanja v svetlih sončnih tonih in do impresionizma. In to avtorja suprematističnega križa in človeka, ki je lahko slikal z belo na belo. Š lo mi je na jok, čeprav jokati že dolgo nisem več znal in se mi je vedno bolj dozdevalo, da se bom cmeril šele takrat, ko se bom poslavljal. Žalostno.
(…)

Kazimir Malevič
Črni križ /1923
(106 x 106.5 cm; olje na platno)

Kazimir Malevič
Bela na belo /1918
79.4 x 79.4 cm; olje na platno)

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!”
“How...?”
“’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)

Iz IX. POROČILA (Knjiga Ana D; str. 261)

Johann Heinrich Fuessli
(Henry Fuseli)
Nočna mora /1781
(127 x 102 cm; olje na platno)

(...) Po istih ulicah sva se še enkrat odpravila na zahod, severozahod. Potem sem na enem od uličnih vogalov ostro zavil. Spustila sva se po klancu in veselo zavirala. Tako da je cvililo po Freudovi Berggasse in nama spodnašalo zadke. Otrok B se je ustrašila za papir, ki sem ga vozil v popotni torbi, viseči s prtljažnika. Torbo sem moral potem odnesti s sabo celo v drugo nadstropje ter jo pustiti pod muzejskim nadzorom v nekdanji veži dr. Sigmunda. Dolgo sva se premikala iz sobe v sobo in se vračala, čeprav sva daleč največ časa porabila za podrobno ogledovanje antičnih kipcev iz psihoanalitikove zasebne zbirke. Čepela sva ob njih večkrat, in to vsakokrat nezmerno dolgo. Tako dolgo, da so se morali ostali obiskovalci ojunačiti in začeti na glas godrnjati. Na GSM sem si posnel dva nora falusa in majhnega rdečkastega satira. Vrnila sva se kar dvakrat k Nočni mori slikarja J. H. Füslija, ki jo je mojstru podaril Ernst Jones, avtor eseja O nočni mori iz leta 1912. In mene je vlekla diploma častnega meščana Dunaja. Dekorativno skico Sfinge in Ojdipa je na dokument z vodnimi barvicami naslikal Max Pollak. Doktor F. je namreč leta 1924 postal triintrideseti častni meščan Dunaja. Vendar se meni še vedno zdi, da je moral biti sloviti Jud mnogo bolj kot Dunajčan z Berggasse številka 19 Londončan z Elsworthy Road številka 39, kamor je zbežal pred vdorom domačih barbarov. Prepričanje se mi je dodatno utrdilo po tistem, ko sva si z Otrokom ogledala dokumentarne posnetke ekstatičnega Dunaja tik pred Anschlussom.
(…)

Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres
Ojdip in sfinga /1808
(189 x 144 cm; olje na platno)

Iz IX. POROČILA (Knjiga Ana D; str. 249)

Gustav Klimt
Beethovnov friz (stranska stena) – detajl /1902
(2,15 – 2,00 x 34,14 m; mešana tehnika na omet)

(…) Niže na živilski tržnici sva kasneje kupila toskanski kruh z olivami, nesramno drage sveže smokve, dve baklavi in veliko zagozdo dach-steinerja. Š la sva v Secesijo in občudovala je samo Klimta ter Beethovnov friz. Popoldan sva poležavala in se ljubila. Zvečer sva skupaj pregle- dovala dunajske monografije in poslušala Ur-licht, hommage Gustavu Mahlerju. Ko je odšla v kopalnico, sem Hani poslal prvi mesidž. Po vrnitvi me je nekaj časa tiho opazovala med dopisovanji, kasneje pa odšla na balkon. Po zadnjem SMSu sem še naprej obsedel na tleh sredi sobe. Zamišljen ali mogoče malo otožen. Otrok B je pokleknila k meni.

Paradoks jo je nasmejal in z ustnicami me je razumeva- joče pobožala po licih.
(…)

Gustav Klimt
Beethovnov friz (stranska stena) – detajl /1902
(2,15 – 2,00 x 34,14 m; mešana tehnika na omet)

Iz XIII. POROČILA (Knjiga Ana D; str. 353)

(…) Kabinet zapustim šele po tistem, ko slišim, da si je Oki znova zaželel novomeški duo Suicide. In vstopim v dnevno sobo, kjer me pogled na obiskovalca znova spomni, da je čas maškar. Princeskin obraz je nekdo samo s pomočjo barvnih nanosov in za oko neopaznih implantov uspel spremeniti v čudovit levji gobec. Pravilne poteze njenega partnerja je na enak način preoblikoval v opičjaka iz Beethovnovega friza v kleti dunajske Secesije. Njuna garderoba ni bila pustna, vendar sta premišljeno izbrani obleki z domiselnimi dodatki iz obeh prijateljev naredili živi karikaturi, ki bi se lahko enako upravičeno sprehajali zunaj ali znotraj vsake odlične knjižne ilustracije.

»Oskar?! Umetnik te je končno uspel uravnovesiti!!!«
»Barbara, eno lepo noč ga bom veselo raztrgala!!!«
(…)

Gustav Klimt
Beethovnov friz (prednja stena) – detajl /1902
(2,15 – 2,00 x 34,14 m; mešana tehnika na omet)

Malo sem si zaspal, ampak po nocojšnjih Odmevih na nacionalki mi je postalo jasno, da si zares zaspati v moji domovini sploh ni mogoče. Torej, pri budni zavesti in z nezmerno zamudo se pridružujem 571 podpisnikom Zgagove in Š určeve Peticije zoper cenzuro in politične pritiske na novinarje v Sloveniji.

Minister za kulturo, ki v dialogu ni sposoben kaj več od poniglavih žalitev o sogovornikovem videzu ter tope prepirljivosti v slogu infantilnega retour-kutschna, je pre-daleč od kulturnega ministra in takšna ne-kultura si ne zasluži nič drugega kot kulturni boj.

Branko Grims (psevdonim v odhajanju)