Art Show: Global Cities

In 2006 the glass turned half full - or half empty, depending on wether you belong to the species of confessional urbanites or new age country bumpkin. This year, for the first time in human history, half of the global population has chosen (or was forced economically) to survive in a habitat that is defined by speed, size, density, diversity and last but not least pollution and noise.

The great thing about this exhibition is the fact that it is so accessible, digestible. You are actually experiencing one of the displayed Mega Cities - London - either as a resident, or as a tourist during your weekend trip. And the smartly curated display does make you wonder and ponder a lot:

For instance about the densitiy issue. Think London is crowded? How must it be in Cairo then with about 35.000 - thirty five thousand - inhabitants per squaremile, which is nearly 10 times as dense as London (4.5K) You can really grasp this through this cleverly material-printed 3-D model above, the higher the topography the higher the density. BTW: The most densely populated disctrict in the world is Monkok on the Hong Kong peninsula, with an unbelievable 250.000 inhabitants per squaremile. One of the things you should experience in your life!

Also, even though I hear my native tongue nearly every day in Zone 2 (that is excluding all ze Jerman tourists on sightseeing) and the fact that there are at least five German number plates within 10 mile radius of my flat, I am always stunned to hear the latest immigration figures: 40.000 Deutsche call London their home, like me. That's the size of a so-called Middle Town, or one load at Stamford Bridge (Chelsea Stadium for non-locals or footie ignorants) However, the really striking statistic is the heterogenity of London immigrants. Ok, there are about 170K indians and another 85K from Bangladesh dominating a little bit, but other than that, there seem to be about 20-40 thousand from almost a two dozen of countries, which only mirrors the true cosmopolitan spirit of the Big Smoke. Go to L.A. and you have 1.5 million Mexicans, another quarter million from El Salvador and 150.000 from Guatemala, wheras the Germans stand at 25.000, and Brits bring it to 35K.

Speaking of Latinos, Mexico City is a monster in size and of smog, mainly driven by pollution from cars supported by a totally misled transport policy. In Mexico City, water is more expensive than gas. That is sick! Al you have another mission...Ken wanna emmigrate and become mayor...? When comparing cities like L.A. withg Tokyo on issues like puplic transport, the different styles of life couldn't be more drastic: only 7% of L.As population commutes to work on public transport (and it is mainly the poor) while a staggering 78% rides the mega efficient subway in Tokyo.

Apart from huge info-tainment walls, cubicles and videos, the show also includes art that addresses the subject matter. Richard Wentworth has made a site-specific video installation and some of Andy Gursky's large-scale photographies are on display. But the real winners are rather unknown artists: Nagoa Hatakeyama has photographed a 1/1000 scale 3-D model of Tokyo with the effect that it looks absolutely real, if clean and bar any humans or cars. The model itself contains thousands of buildings, and the texture actually comes from real photographies of the originals. This conceptual approach of a russian doll achieves remarkable aesthetical cleansing.

Then there is a weird vitrine full of every day objects and memorabilia constructing utopian city; quite impressive craftsmanship as well.

My favourite piece in the entire Turbine Hall-specific installation is a wall of photos by South African artist Kendell Geers documenting life in Johannesburg: the decay, tristesse and violence exuding 12 photos of inner city life should be shocking, but you have seen this before and heard the hideous crime stories and taxi wars. No, it is the 80 pictures from affluent suburbia that are truly disturbing, because most foreigners probably have no clue how much armed response there apparently needs to be (that is private companies protecting your property with guns and dogs) and that a multi-million villa actually resembles more a fully protected army camp in a combat zone with kilometers of barbed wires and electric fences. Very sad, but very much a reflection of the world order and safety realities in many countries.

I am glad I have lived in big cities like London, Hong Kong, NYC, LA, Singapore, Tokyo or just visited them, but somehow this Tate visit came at a time when we are thinking about moving a bit further out, bigger place with garden, getting a dog and doing more outdoors in the parks, forests and along rivers and ocean shores. It seems like I had my fair share of urbanity, but my glass is becoming half full - in favour of the country side.

Art Show: Candice Breitz

Music is a universal art form. Most of us like certain music genres or styles over others. We also admire, fancy and love our stars. And some of us go above and beyond, and start looking like their idols and mimicking their behaviour. That's what Candice Breitz has captured in three photographs of monumental scale on the ground floor of The White Cube in Mason's Yard. The three groups of devoted followers are Iron Maiden, Marylin Manson and Abba.

At first, i was taken away by the beautiful arrangement of these group portraits, but when looking at the details it triggered fast-moving thoughts and memories: about my own stint in heavy metal gangs during adolescene as well as saturday night tribes, and our desire to belong to a group in general. More than any other art form, music seems to provide a framework for an identity, as these enthusiatic fans look pretty much like their idols - theme and variation.

Moreover, these sub-cultural identities often define themselves through mutual exclusion and aversion, think mots versus bikers back in the 70s. This phenomenon is mirrored by one beautiful detail in the Iron Maiden work: a woman wearing a typical heavy metal uniform comprised of jeans and leather vest cluttered with stickers and patches of her favourite bands and other attitude-bearing pictograms, and the one on her right arm says "Saufen gegen Goth" which means "Binge drinking against gothics" - these deeply melodramatic-depressed-looking disciples of marylin manson are hung on the opposite wall; what a genius juxtaposition!

Downstairs is a 25-screen video piece, and if the photos haven't already made you smile, this will make your day. Instead of listening to John Lennon himself, you see 25 hardcore fans singing his anthems, but each left to their own devices. They listen to the songs via earplugs, and sing alongside his voice - but you can only hear them, one by one, filling a screen on their own, 25 of them in one row, individual yet synchronized, well almost - what a gigantic and hilarious cacophony. Very funny.

To actually watch people "giving everything" in front of a camera looks like worshipping to their god: some are in pain, some look like they just entered heaven, and all that moving limbs and shaking heads, not to forget the pulling of spectacularly weird faces is comic relief and results in a rare atmosphere for a commercial art gallery - wild laughter, open and loud.

The next moment it makes you think how YOU look when passionately singing in the car at 7am in the morning on the M25...

Until 28 Aug 2007 at White Cube | check a short video on http://tinyurl.com/28dkbg

Concert: BBC Proms - Gustav Mahler Symphony No.9

Having played Mahler's 1st myself - The Titan - on the clarinet in my late teenage days, I somewhat became obsessed with his symphonies. To my ears, there is nothing more deliciously complex and dramatic than his first, fiths, and only Schubert's Unfinished tops his ninth in terms of the opulent melodrama of romanticism. Oh well, music history...

Granted, the Royal Albert Hall is not the mecca of accustic fidelity - unlike the Cologne Philharmony, a purpose-built venue for classic concerts - but the charme to walk in after work for a fiver equipped with a blanket and a bottle of champagne urges you to re-position the evening on pleasure.

Hiding the booze like a teenager away from the patrolling staff on the gallery under the roof, it resembled the quest for a working class boy to mingle with his aristocratic lover at dawn without being detected by the entourage of the upper class girl guarding her viginity on the streets of Victorian Kensington.

Then you get the usual rituals of concert master and conductor coming in, receiving applaud, bowing, sitting down, the orchestra getting into pose, a few seconds of empty silence, and then the masterpiece emanates from the stage and illuminates the O2 of the 19th century.

Lying on the floor, closing your eyes, feeling your blood circulation and holding your better half in your arm, your thoughts float into the night and give space to concentrated listening while half asleep. You can just imagine yourself as a well-dressed gentlemenn with a broken heart in 1908 on the dawn of the Belle Epoque roaming the streets of Vienna.

Epic music meets monumental architecture. Can't wait to see the 10th - his unfinished one.

Art Show: Insider Art

There is an urban myth that true art can only be achieved when minds and hearts are distressed, surpressed, and pushed to the limits. In the spirit of that stereotype (which is often devised by collectors and curators as a means to keep their artists poor) one should ask the question wether truth in art can be better accomplished by artists living in dodgy studios, or inmates of prisoners, mental clinics and immigration detention centres.

For all the different reasons of this world, their neccessity to think about the world is a result of the forced time they have available, timed with the pain of realising what they have lost, given up, traded in or fucked up. Hence, this summer show at the ICA displays some pieces where that pain punches you head on. For instance, somebody has painted hundres of ugly and menacing faces lurking behind him - victims that haunt him or other inmates that want to take revenge...for what?

Others are more subtle while some are even witty and funny: a game, devised to be played by new entrants in a prison as a means to learn the "the way we do things around here" is loosely based on Monopoly, but instead of expensive streets and landmarks you have different wings and visitor centres.

My favourite piece is a large embroidery work that has about hundred names with year tags next to it cluttered around the canvas (yes it does look a bit like copying Tracy's tent) but then these names are also accompanied by icons ranging from gothic faces, pigs, red lips, crosses, dolphins etc. Only when you see one sexually explicit depiction, you start to wonder what the story of this inside (or rather outside?) artist is all about - mind you the names are a mixture of female and male, and the artist is a woman.

Coincidently, I got a DVD today with little animation movies of ideas for future architecture - and one is called "Creative Prison" by Alsop. His idea to transform prisons into places where people unleash their creative potential is based on the statistic that the shocking number of 80% of ex prisoners fail after 2 years in this country. If prisons were more accomodating to inmates to be productive while serving a sentence, then they would better re-socialse and integrate afterwards, because they could apply for jobs with newly acquired skills and certificates.

Moreover, there are not many other places in this country for working class male (unfortunately the majority of inmates) to show any form of feminine emotion, and painting your hopes and fears as well as talking about it when you are awarded with one of the Koestler prizes (the basis for this exhibition). In this light, you should not focus on artistic craftsmanship, but the aspect of identity and possibility.

And never forget: there is always a - if admittably very small - number of inmates in prisons or mental clinics, that shouldn't really be there, not genuine criminals with a long history of violence, but people that somehow got onto the wrong track, did that one mistake and got caught, went to the wrong demonstration, or even got sentenced without any evidence of their guilt like so many in 21st century detention camps - and one of them could be you and me; and how could we possibly survive if not through artisitic expression, just like Koestler, a writer and the founder of this prize, who was wrongly imprisoned for three months during the Spanish Civil War - apparently for civil unrest.

Theatre: Boeing Boeing

As much as I am a contemporary arts man, I am not exactly a theatre man by the same token. And I could - or should. My cousin Eva heads up the music production at the mighty Globe on the Southbank, but when it comes to Shakespeare versus an intense 2-cast blackbox play at the Bush theatre I would favour the latter - sorry sweetie.

More shockingly, I have only been to a West End show once...in five years - and that was upon request of my visiting parents. However, my partner got free tickets for Boeing Boeing, and that is where at least one end closes to my cousin: she wildly recommended me to see this production when Marc Rylance, the then artistic director and head actor at the Globe, departed his venture after 10 years to embark on a mainstream production, yes, this one. (he is not there anymore but his successor was fab to say that upfront)

So, what is it all about?

Revisit the 60s, when flying was considered not a commodity but luxury for a very few, and being an air hostess for a venerable airline granted you C-celebrity status and a lucrative affair with the tanned pilot (B-celebrity) if that was your cup of tea. In Boeing Boeing, however, the air hostesses are all engaged to Bernard, a successful architect living in Paris, and to be precise, he has three of them. He manages this love rectangle with meticulous attention to detail, by studying their flight schedules, changing his diet, and of course, all the taste swings in his swanky appartment.

It all goes smoothly until one day his old friend from school shows up - the exact opposite of the cool elegant playboy, and becomes, you guess it, witness of a day gone wrong: storm over the Atlantic brings the American from TWA back on the wrong evening, and the Italian gets another day in transit, all when his German favourite is supposed to fly in for the night.

What happens then over the course of the next 2 hours is a one big laugh caused by wicked humour, lots of banality jokes, and a terrific performance from Gretchen, the Lufthansa Eagle, who encapsulates the intense drama queen to a T. I have not laughed at my own cultural stereotypes so loudly in a while. And of course, Robert, the dorky shy friend, is being dragged into juggling these three hotbeds, together with the annoyed and cynic house keeper.

The piece is very retro, and predictably posed some questions in my head afterwards: were that the good old times my parents were talking about, when flight schedules were stable (stale) for years, when a lot of jobs triggered a romantic fascination in people, like being a sailor in the 18th century, all before the efficiency squats of huge management consultancies strip all roles and tasks bare of any (inefficient) fun parts. On a side note, an air hostess isn't even called that way any more, but I guess we call them flight attendants more for reasons of political correctness. Fine, but the glamour has gone as well: there is a sarcastic German term for it nowadays coined "Saftschubse" which literally means 'Juice Pusher'. That doesn't suggest IT Girl, does it?

Photography: The Hitcher by Chris Coekin

Chris Coekin spent 5 years hitch hiking around the UK, picturing himself standing at the road side with cardboards in his hands, as well as documenting road deaths and other relevant topics. For this type of photos he used a disposable camera, while he shot the portraits of the kind and trusting drivers with a more sophisticated equipment, and the results look distinctively different.

Coeking achieves something magical: you start to wonder who these people are - the one in what 50...or even 100 - who actually picks up a complete stranger. I started to analyse the faces, the make of their car, any other evidence of class, background, the jobs they might have been driving to, or from, as well as their age and potential interest.

And then you ask yourself the "why question" - What makes some people to share their "moving castle" with somebody obviously handicapped in his mobility, while hordes of others drive by thinking...well...what do we think when we see somebody displaying a cardboard for a ride? I have taken hitchers when surfing in Cornwall, mainly because I felt sorry for them, and also because I thought I'd get some valuable tip offs in return (I actually did) Then I had situations where I wanted to but didn't have any space. However, I also often don't give a damn, don't I...

The photographer gives away some of the motives why people picked him up, but thankfully, but he only does this every now and again, giving you enough food for thought while leaving enough room for further guessing and wondering.

A selection of the cardboards used to write down his desired destination is mounted in a grid formation on the third wall of the cafe space. This well structured approach is an effective ironic take on the rather inconsistent hit-and-miss approach of hitch hiking, where you probably do not get from A to B in a predictable and orderly fashion, assumably more lateral, often via C and D.

At the Photographer Gallery until 2 Sept

Concert: Manteca at 606 Jazz Club

You drive into Chelsea Harbour, Lots Road, 18th century factory buildings, you stand in front of an unassuming door eyeing through the metal bars down the stairs, no sign, then you find the door buzzer, hidden, a guy in the basment opens the door and you leave 21st century behind and expect a prohibition establishment selling Vodka made in a bath tub.

Downstairs, you enter 606, my favourite Jazz club in London. You won't find the really big international names here (go to Ronnie Scott's) but you will find the creme de la creme of British Jazz as well as young shooting stars from around the world. The trick is, you only spend £10 pounds for fine artists who (in many cases) are band members of the big names anyhow, performing with their own projects and under their own names (you just don't know them) - also a good way to make yourself accomplished with the scene.

On Friday, we were delighted by Manteca, a mixture of salsa and Latin Jazz, and they lit the spark. It only took the opener to turn everybody's attention away from half eaten dinner to a combo of seven lead by Colombian vocalist Martha Acosta. Her passionate singin was backed, pushed and embellished by Trumpet, Sax, Bass, Keyboard, Drums and Bongo. Together, they turned this little venue into a Latino hotbed. The only shame was that there is no place to dance.

At £40 per head including dinner, prosecco and wine, this venue is a real alternative to the bigger names and concert halls, especially if you like it more intimate. A great choice for a second date!

High Street: Wholefoods Temple in Kensington

This is THE ART of Gourmet Shopping and thus it deserves a post on this blog. I know Wholefoods back from The States, where its is the kind of bigger, more corporate brother of Trader Joe's. Granted, most of the food is organic in here, but you have to close one eye on the carbon food print, since it imports a lot from around the world. The trade off is: you will find EVERYTHING, no matter how sophisticated of a home meal you want to cook.

Where in London can you get delicious rarities such plaintains from Costa Rica and fresh Tamarind from Thailand in the same supermarket, instead of trawling different markets from Green Street to North End Road? Exotic goods aside, a lot of the produce is local and spanking fresh, and I have never seen so much choice of salads on a single shelf, well it is 50 feet long!

Basically, this temple of monumental proportions devotes the size of a Tesco Local each to distinct areas such like fish, herbs, nuts, coffee, and easily the size of a Tesco Centre for cheese, wine and staple food. Oh, the wine list...is extensive and covers all our favourites from Casa Lapostolle (Chile) to Rosenblum (California) and you can even (re-) fill your own bottle of organic Spanish wine for £5.

You don't want to just do the usual after-work-stressed-pressing-for-speed go shopping there, you want to spend time on this whole experience; explore, wander, wonder, get lost, find new ways to Rome (I seriously thought about their approach to feasting) and simply be carried away by whatever your 'weakness' is - one thing is for sure, it is measured in calories. According to Meghan, I said "we need to go" apparently a number of times - as a means for self protection against being skint in the first week of a months and blowing-up to Peter Griffin size from the TV series Family Guy by the last of it.

We ended up with a few samples and tasters for a tenner and comparing the prices to Tesco and Planet Organic, well it is somewhat inbetween, depending on your taste buds.

Art Show: Mark Dion - Systema Metropolis

Mark Dion's environments are a bit like art for geeks: a taxonomy of species (mainly insects) and objects found in urban spaces like the Brompton Cemetary, Highgate, and the Thames. In the latter, his research teams find way more plastic bags, balls of all sorts and other waste, but also a dozen species of fish, including a sea horse! And the probes have been taken in front of Battersea Power Station, not Henley.

I do like these taxonomic, almost scientific apporoaches in the art world, being it Michael Landy's 'Breakdown' or Joseph Beuys' 'Wirtschaftswerte' - meticulously documenting, clustering, and clinically displaying whatever they chose to examine. Dion's projects have an archeological strand excavating living creatures as well as man-made objects from locations across the globe. His style of installation, however, reminds me of Damie Hirst's glass vitrines.

My favourite piece in this exhition is the stuff that he digged out of the Themse river, and put it into a translucent tent: you can see what's inside, including clay pipes from the 17th century, but it is all fuzzy and blur, just like the murky water where it rested for weeks or centuries. Only when you walk around it, you can gaze through a fine green moskito-like net, and out of a sudden the objects become clear and sharp - and, well, greener. A nice reflection of the fact, that the Thames is actually a clean river, ok, at least from Fulham upstream.

Until 2 September 2007 at the Natural History Museum

Art Show: Paul Chan

Paul Chan uses moving shadows projected onto Gallery walls and floors. Different objects move through the video surface at differnt speeds, and there is anything from abstract shapes and forms, to cars, trees, people, weapons, lines, dots, and flags

These clever immaterial installations cause many different associations in the spectator. Some samples: Genocide in Africa, Conquistadors versus Indians in 16th century Latin America, ghost ships, planes dropping bombs on cities, villagers watching bombs being dropped at them, bodies jumping down The Twin Towers, AK47 machine guns passing by as if they were feathers in the wind and so on.

However, your associations never get confirmed, it remains fuzzy and ambiguous. And that is the trick. It makes you wander what is out there, has been in the past, and will be in future - or rather is flying around you, painfully visible, or eerily unoticed.

Amongst all this dark visual poetry (the shadows are black after all) there was one thing that made me laughing out loud: I had the pleasure to observe three people either abruptly avoiding to trip onto the shadow projections, or being seriously warned by their anticipating partners "to be careful" as if they would destroy a fragile piece of art. Obviously, the formal and controlled space of a public gallery has ingrained the behaviour in many people to not touch art by all means, and if in doubt, to better not take a close inspection since the guard might strike a pre-emptive alarm. Watching folks when trying not to trip into an immaterial shadow on mere floor tiles, is quite a comical sight, believe me...At the other end, other visitors walked right through the picture, in established wave-into-the-camera-style:-)

Until 1 July at The Serpentine

Theatre: Trance at The Bush

Being a typical small black box theatre, The Bush invites intense plays with a cast of two or three. Trance by Japanese playwright Shoji Kokami perfectly fits the bill, and fills the space with nutter-esque wit and charm: three high school friends pump into each other years later, one has become an psychiatrist, the second a writer and her patient, who also has a crush on her. The triangle is complemented by the third, who lives his identity as a drag queen, with a crush on the writer.

In his schizoid paranoia, the writer believes he is the last emperor of Japan, so his friends need to play roles that fit into this world, in order to be with him and try and help him. That's the plot, and the acting is loud, fast, crazy at times, and painfully funny, especially on the drag queen's side. Towards the end, the script plays with Descartes notion of dreaming and knowing when dreaming, and the roles take multiple twists, and at the end you are (intentionally?) made lost and literally loos the plot alongside this fulminant trio.

Not exactly light entertainment, but a great way to leave a stressful work week behind asking yourself the question: What is Normal?

At The Bush Theatre until 30 June 2007

The Great Exhibition

Wanting to see Paul Chan's show in the Serpentine, I bumped into friends on the way and joined them to see "a graduate show in a tent" instead (I had seen Paul Chan in Boston already) It turned out to be a afternoon of exitement, arousal and inspiration. The RCA has coined this year's presentation of its students "The Great Exhibition" in hommage to the original in 1851 - and as far as I can say I have discovered some revolutionary and thought provoking concepts and ideas.

Let's start with The Race by Michael Burton, a series of interventions tackling the issue of antibiotics - human mankind cannot live without it yet bacteria are developing faster than R&D labs can spin out drugs. He suggests that "with the end of the antibiotic era we have no other choice but to symbiotically evolve to meet the pressures of hostile new diseases. The photo above is called bacteria harbourer, and another piece on display (as well as video) is a fist-size fabric cage that is woven into a women's hair in order to hosts a praying mantis. Yes, it may sound absurd, but when you see it it kind of makes sense, for future generations though.


My favourite is EXTREME GREEN GUERRILLA, a project by Michiko Nitta, that responds to global warming and other threats to contemporary civilisation. Among other radical solutions, he proposes an Animal Messaging Service, in which humans send digital messages from e.g. London to New York - not through the existing infrastructure of glassfibre cables but - by using biological transmitters: whales, birds, rats and other species. The 'interface' to carry the information is stored on RFID tags that are implanted into the animals, as demonstrated below with a Mackerel.

Surely, this isn't exactly the most efficient way to communicate, but that would miss the point. Screaming of with and humour on the one hand (species are clustered into fast and slow, or low and high risk; think predator and prey...the Mackerel belongs to the latter) this project also gives amazing impulses to think about carbon footprint and other hot topics.

To Andreas Molgaard, the most pressing issues is mankind's survival in the 21st century. Focussing on the big picture of global change, he comes up with 11 ways to survive, ranging from the funny, wouldn't it be nice, to extreme thoughts of erasing one continent completely or limiting life to 33 years (like Jesus). Like it or not, this is somebody with the vision (and guts - since this is pretty controvertial stuff) to list some of the options, viable or not, the history of the future will tell...

These days however, a big imminent problem in cities like London is social unrest, in form of gangs hanging out on the streets, women getting harressed, juveniles drinking on playgrounds and so on. Nothing new so far. But did you know that the police can declare an area - ranging from a phone box to the entire borough - a so-called "dispersal zone" legally prompting suspects to leave the declared zone and keep them at bay with a 3 months prison threat if violating this order? I didn't! And I am very glad that Tamsin Fulton is pointing this out in her project www.thedispersalzone.org.uk Using the API of Google Maps she publicises all DZs in London with Tags when it was declared for what duration and what the reason was. The fact that she uses readily available yet hardly known information (to the local residents) makes this project very Mark Lombardi-ish (he re-shaped newspaper clips into intricate graphic webs of state corruption across the world) More on her blog http://tamsdesigninteractions.blogspot.com


From the Mean Streets of London to the Great Oceans of our Planet: Daniel Sjoholm thinks that current abundance in Yacht design suffers a misguided focus on marble, gold and other Oligarch toys. He sees a need for an update in Yacht design, and promotes a new luxury in the form of glass bottom "speed lounges" that look like spaceships cruising lagoons and reefs. Can he also somehow reconcile his vision with the manifesto of the EXTREME GREEN GUERRILLA folks?

Other highlights of bionic design included Il Hoon's aluminum table, that could both be interieur of Sjoholm's yachts and vanguard of a new wave of organism-inspired architecture and furniture design. Bauhaus is dead. Long live Colani.

Emphasising round forms as well are Henny van Nistelrooy's old-magazines-turned-artworks. Starting from the outside, he works his way through these magazines carving out holes of different sizes and angles to create a paper-based sculpture. When you then flick through the pages, these meticulously crafted holes appear like wormholes trying to link the (often shallow and meaningless) world of fashion and advertising with your own imagination of how you might fill these voids with your personal stories. Having always admired paper cuts (Matisse, Felix Droese to name two) I felt inclined to get one for £20, which rounded-up this fantastic endeavour on a Sunday afternoon.

Until 28 June at Kensington Gardens

Movie: Werner Herzog's Fitzcarraldo

De Niro may have coined the term "method acting". But his achievement seem to be dwarfed in light of Werner Herzog's endeavour - or torture - when doing Fitzcarraldo, the story of a Western rubber Baron in 19th century Peru, who's childlike dream is to produce an entire Opera in the Amazonian jungle.

This vision includes a 50 ton steamboat that has to be lifted over a mountain in order to access a far-flung arm of the river - and here comes Herzog's heroic accomplishment: all the props are real, so is the (at times) life-threatening river as well as the indians, and they lift that monster of a ship over that mountain for real - think method shooting! No studio, no stuntmen, no frills. Instead, real danger, tropical weather, malaria mosquitos - and above all - the world-famous tantrums of notorious Klaus Kinski, who threatened to kill Herzog in another iconoclatic movie: Aguirre - Wrath of God. Before embarking on the 5 movie lasting partnership with Herzog (Grizzly) Kinski role modeled as THE German Villain in noir movies of the sixties.

Granted, the story is simple, but you should see this movie - in my opinion one of the top 10 most important movies ever - for the sheer fascination of Kinskis outburst which are surely for real and often didn't stop after the cut, and of course you have to see it to believe it: everything is really real, no fake, it all really happened that way, back in that year in the 70s.

Film History!

On 10, 16, 22 and 30 June at the ICA

Art Show: Anthony Gormley

Event Horizon - that title reminds me of a pretty scary movie from the late 90s exploring concepts of dents in space and memory journeys back and forth into your darkest past and greyest future. Event Horizon is Antony Gormley's latest environmental installation, scattered across the Southbank of London.

30 odd casts of his own body stand on roof tops of predominantly 60s grey concrete monsters. It is an exiting journey for your eyes to wander around and discover their location and juxtapositions with the surrounding urban landscape.


Whilst not really empathising with some by-passers' concern passed on to the police that "somebody is intending to jump off the IBM building" as reported in the press, I did have an eerie moment this morning that reminded me to these people's experience: when driving on the M4 westbound just before crossing the M25 at 5:30 am on a sunny Saturday morning, I saw somebody sitting on the edge of a pedestrian bridge gazing at the approaching traffic. He seemed to contemplate whether to jump or not (Of course I called 999 and they said they were aware of the incident and sent somebody - I hope it all ended positive...) In my mind I connected this scene with Gormley's installation that reminds us of the fragility of the human body, and the anonymity of urban life.


Inside the Hayward Gallery you find typical sculptures from various periods, all good and all thought provoking. The horrenduous and cold interieur of the gallery provides a menacing platform for Gormleys messages.

The attention grabbing bit though is the cloud-filled room that I suppose gives this fabulous exhibition the title Blind Light. Once inside the cube, you are really distressed and disoriented and do what everyone else seems to be doing: meanering around the glass walls from edge to edge until you reach the exit again, but when two opposing traffic streams hit each other you might loose track and sight of the secure pathfinder and off you go back into blindness. A very physical and psychological experience.

Until 19 August at the Haywards Gallery

Photography: Edward Burtynsky

On my way to Photo London I popped by Flower Central in Cork Street to admire some well known and some new work of one of my favourite artists: Ed Burtynsky. His prints of man-made landscapes and, more recently, the visually probing insight into contemporary China, are epic and monumental: large scale images of quarries, rubber piles, shipbreaking businesses in Bangladesh and 10.000 people assembly lines like your eyes have never seen it before. His style makes you almost smell all the toxic waste, and it is the details in the pictures that makes you grasp the scale of the sites inspected, like the house-size caterpillar trucks appearing like ants in the gigantic landscape of a quarry.


There are not a lot of photographers that combine "need-for-change" ethos a la Gore and Moore with immaculately crafted high-end aesthetics. And as far as I know, Ed doesn't digitally post-produce like Gursky does.

Until 2 June at Flowers Central, West End

Photo London

Being a very visual person, I have always, and will always love photography. Doing a bit of photo stuff myself for now 4 years, I also had an additional hat on this time. Whilst I won't and don't want to be an artist in the first place, it becomes more and more exiting to locate my own portfolio inbetween the different positions. It feels a bit similar to the tribute acknowledgements on music albums or quotations in scientific publications, that I have certain photographers that I deeply admire, and wonder to what degree these sources of influence impact on my own stuff or not.


Anyhow, some of my favourites are present in the Old Billingsgate Market, starting with Stephen Gill. The museums guard above is a typical representation of conceptual series by Stephen Gill, who captures people getting lost in central London, pictures bill boards from behind, or photographs the silent guards in museums. He often boarderlines between conceptual sequence and documentary style. My favourite cycle is called Hackney Wick in which he saves current socio-cultural netherworlds for future generations, who will only know this area as Olympic grounds (that will have pushed these East London urbanspheres away.

The picture at the top is Susan Derges, who specialises on photograms. These prints are direct results from light hitting photo-sensitive metal plates - there is no camera involved - and the sensation is that the prints are 1:1 in scale, meaning if you see a 2-3 meter print of water splash, that is the size of the metal plate this artist is driving and carrying to Oceans, lakes and rivers, often exposing them at nightime. This process results in the sharpest and most detailed photoworks around.

Another favourite of mine, Massimo Vitali, who has a knack for aperture almost blending out texture and colour of water and sans, thus, focussing on masses of tourists in bikinis and swimshorts. His work really shines through when seen in large scale.

Therefore, go until 3 June at Old Billingsgate Market

Cutty Sark - R.I.P.

Today on 21 May 2007, one of London's landmarks was destroyed: the Cutty Sark, the last remaining tea clipper on thisw planet. Even though a spokesman said the damage 'is not insurmountable' it remains questionable to what degree the historic ship can be restored, and if, at what costs - that largely depends on how much of the £25 restoration project has already been spent.

For me personally, I do feel quite attached to this event, since I have been to the Oriental Club in Mayfair last night (of which I never heard before and certainly wouldn't have expected such thing to exist...naive me...) and we had insightful talks about the East India Company (which founded the club) the British Empire and hence, the maritime trade - the folks I visited were a bit older so to say and had personal memories of the old Empire days. Coincidentally, a day later one of the icons of that era burns down in a fire. Weird life. And a shame for Greenwich.

I have taken the picture above in 2003. Rest in peace, Cutty Sark.

Unavailable until further notice, in Grenwich

Photography: Andreas Gursky

Duesseldorf 1992. A photographic exhibition absolutely blows my mind: three students of the famous "Becher Class" (boring yet world-famous photographs of gas and water tanks) at the Kunstakademie show their prints in a cutting edge gallery. Thomas Ruff, Thomas Struth and Andreas Gursky.

This time not only marked a generation change amongst the bue chip names of the Duesseldorf art scene, but also a paradigm shift from painting towards photography.

Back then, this medium was considered highly speculative and I remember that the price for some 'smaller Gursky prints was around £1000-2000 in Deutschmark value back then. Damn I didn't have the money to get one - I could buy a little flat for it today. For investors (which I am not - I still collect only nitty gritty pieces of young or historically insignificant artist every now and then) Gursky might be the world's most expensive living photographic artist, but for me he is just a 'local' icon (I am from Duisburg originally, 20 miles north of Duesseldorf).

Since then I have always been exited to see Gursky prints in full scale across the world. To my total and utter delight, he currently has a double exposure in the West End displaying almost a squaremile of photographic sensation (ok, I am slightly exaggerating here) and I am sure I will go back for further contemplation. Try and locate the manipulated details in the Formula One Series at White Cube...

The most fascinating new work is the one taken in North Korea. What an insight into the last Stalinist Regime on the planet.
Looks shockingly familiar in a way...Leni Riefenstahl...Berlin 1936...Olympics...history.

In my point of view, Gursky is simply the best social anthropology photographer, only rivalled by Edward Burtynski, who in a way is his environmental anthropolohy pendant (shipwrecks, quarries, tyre cemetaries etc).

Gursky mostly captures the mundane, but in the most monumental way. You must spoil your eyes to this!

Andreas Gursky at White Cube Mason’s Yard and Monika Sprüth Philomene Magers London, from 22 March to 12 May 2007.

Art Show: Boo Ritson - Hotdogs & Heroes

This is an unusual one: The photograph of a painting of a portrait - by simply adding the very artificial looking acryllic colours (paint has never looked so disgustingly plastic; for me a biting take on artificial aspects of American society...) Boo Ritson creates in intricate web of layers and cross-references.

The whole series 'Hotdogs and Heroes' is very conceptual, visually narrating an average day of a professional killer, who comes down to smalltown Nevada to 'do a job' suspecting the air hostess to be the frivolous girl in the bar last night, popping up his collar in the hope to not be reckognised.

Somehow, I immediately thought about Hopper's Nighthawks, and that these characters in this series here could be the a kind of off-spring story behind the famous picture, as if Boo intended to fill the infamous void that iconic painting left behind - 60 years later, as if small town Midwest hasn't moved on, well, it often appears to not have changed that much after all.

Until 29th April, David Risley Gallery, Vyner Street, E2

Artists Anonymous: Alice Straight to Video

We entered a fury cave labyrinth, the kind of installation that reminds you of childhood days. We joked and played around. I took this photo of hers curiously exploring what is in store to feed her exitement around the next corner.

After a minute or so she started to feel uncomfortable, claustrophobic and anxious. She asked the gallery girl for a sort of short cut to get out, cop out. I started to look at the video screens nestled into the white acryllic fur. It dawned on me relatively quickly. This was disturbing stuff - well, not exactly shocking given the first show of artists anonymous in Vyner Street exploring the traumatic side of 'drugs'.


The installation stations were mainly about sex, punch in your face with errected penises or a more subtle, morbid looking aquarium with undefinable gadgets inside. When I cam out on the other side, Katherine and Meghan were already engaged in a discussion on child abuse - the topic of this show. A terrifying corner of society, with no exit door for the victim who often get lurked into sugar-candied rabbit holes layed out by the perpetrators.

Later that day I found the press release on the collective's website and now it gets more shocking, especially being German myself: "In Germany one cannot prosecute against childhood sexual abuse after the age of 28...an infant who can or does not defend itself cannot be the victim of rape, merely of sexual abuse, even when sexual intercourse has taken place...Sexual abuse and Rape are both defined by specific occurrences...The mere memory that it was on Sundays when the mother was at church, is not enough...Germany’s leading organisation for adult survivors of sexual abuse, advises victims against prosecution, as it claims this is too traumatic for the victims..."

Incredibly important stuff. Disturbing content, encouraging format, strong message. From the outside this installation looks like a deconstructed pile of rubble, just like the life of the survivors.

Until 22 April, E2 9DG

My favourite Shops in London

Since I started posting on the London art scene, I often thought of posting my favourite top lists of best shops, galleries, artist's books, restaurants since food or shoes can be like a piece of art itself. Starting with a topic that is closely linked to art – commerce – you’ll find my 10 picks from the 40.000 shops in London below:

Koenig’s Bookshop
Having been a loyal customer for a decade to its Cologne branch (best art bookshop in the world hands down) I was delighted to find their little London branch in the Serpentine Gallery. Sunday morning 10am, a short stroll in Hyde Park before the crowds flock in, followed by the free exhibition in the gallery, and then the ritual of exploring and screening through this tiny space crammed with monographs and catalogues of current exhibitions around London with a sale section is in the back room. Serpentine Gallery, Hyde Park

ICA Bookshop
This is the best place in London for independent, artisan-led magazines and other underground-style periodicals such as Ken360, Greenwich Emotion Map, Daydream Magazine and other ‘secrets’. You wander what else is out there…
The Mall, West End

Bookshop @ Photographer Gallery
Not surprisingly, the best stop for publications on photography. You might spend hours. Great Newport Street, West End

Miller Harris
Tranquillity. Enthralling shop design. Charming sales person. Captivating scents. Miller Harris is a heaven for perfume aficionados, and the whole thing feels like a holistic art installation for your senses. Unique! Needham Road, Notting Hill

Jeffery West
Gents: Fed-up with assembly line output of yet expensive high street brands? Ladies: bored with ‘try-to-fit-in’ footwear of your beloved City Adonis? Jeffery West of Northampton make shoes for ‘Dandies’ as they say, but for me they are simply the most flamboyant shoes to turn a great suit into an artwork or a to get you into a fancy place with your jeans on. My favourite colour is “honey leather”. Classic shapes are Chelsea Brogues and pointy Budapesters. Piccadilly Arcades, West End

Nino’s
You can spend £75 on a decent Boss shirt and the chances are 1:10 you’ll see another one on the tube the next day. Or, you spend £100 on a limited edition shirt at Nino’s and you have a guaranteed one-off in your size for a particular colour. My favourite is a dark brown shirt with each button hole stitched in various colours. The Quality? You still look 9am even after dinner! They also have great cufflinks made from porcelain marbles and LEGO cubes. Quadrant Arcade, Regent Street

HG Walters
Voted the best family butcher by so-and-so association, I am endlessly thankful to only live a stone throw away. The display cabinet wants you to eat it raw on the spot, there are great cheese for vegetarians as well. It is not even expensive given that it is organic and local produce. Palliser Road, Baron’s Court

Stanford’s
London’s No. 1 temple for travel publications. But the geek in me comes back for the abundance of maps of everything in the basement. The detailed Landranger maps are invaluable to soul surfers keen to explore secret surf spots. Long Acre, Leicester Square

The Library
This men’s boutique in Chelsea sometimes feels like a test lab for Harrods and Selfridges. In the past, you could find Trunk t-shirts, Dries van Noten Jackets, Margiella jumpers or Dirk Schoenberger shirts at least a season earlier. The price tags can make you nauseous though. Brompton Road, Chelsea

Grace & Favour
A great ‘life-style’ store that sells candles as well as clothes. I got my favourite blazer there, an eccentric Gibson Jacket with 70s-style leather elbow pads and red and yellow lines crossing the tweed pattern. North Cross Road, East Dulwich

Art Show: Karen Kilimnick

Well, this review is actually more about the Serpentine itself rahter than about Karen Kiliminck's interesting collection of mainly oil paintings and room environments, which refer to classic painting from the 16th to the 20th century. Granted, this is good and consistent work, and her installations such as table, chairs, fireplace, curtains, wood work on the walls and a painting depicting...eh... exactly this scene are nice food for thought, but do not exactly tickly my fancy.

However, this exhibition confirms (again) what a versatile space the Serpentine Gallery really is. Most of the rooms are purpose-changed to resemble gardens, stables, dining and ballroom of Tudor mansions. I wonder how many people who enter the Serpentine for the first time really know the installation and where the regular features of this 1934 original teahouse begin.

Other great end-to-end shows blending in artwork and 'work on the place' include Michael Elmgreen & Ingar Dragset Welfare Show and Ilya and Emilia Kabakov Houses of Dreams. My favourite Serpentine show so far was Gabriel Orosco, and he used the space more like a couple of white cubes.

Perhaps, the key success factor for attracting 750.000 visitors per year is access: located in Hyde Park and free for all, it attracts figures from all sorts of life, ranging from sunbathers seeking a break to Charles Saatchi assessing the latest shadow projection of Tim Noble & Sue Webster. One of my all-time London favourites!

Until 9 April at the Serpentine

Concert: Bonobo at The Forum

Bonobo has become my favorite band of late. I discovered them for myself on a bodyboarding DVD soundtrack about two years ago. Hence, my exitement to get tickets at The Forum in Kentish Town from my goddess fiance for Valentine's Day.

To understand the name, Wikipedia provides a clear answer: biologists have called bonobo's pygmee chimpanzee until recently... What kind of music? Hard to say - I'd call it downbeat jazz with a pinch of chillout lounge.

However, they don't fit into boxes. Neither are the jazzy elements really improvised, nor does the collective sound of keyboard, bass, guitar, Sax, drums and various electronic effects sound cafe-del-mar-hotel-costes-supper-club at all. It is just brilliant. Very imaginative and very idiosyncratic. They look that as well, particularly the Sax player. The 90 minute show was all in all honest, perfectly played music that gets your senses going but doesn't tickle your limbs further than little, gentle and almost introvert moves. So it is not for dancing, yet it's groovy.

The third album is called day to come and features Bajka, a lovey German singer who joined the guys on stage for the four vocal songs. Her voice and style is very hard to define as well. Perhaps a fusion of Berlin Variete and Moloko.

My favourite album is 'Dial M for Monkey', but my most loved tune is 'Silver' on Animal Magic. The closest match in my collection in terms of style are certain tracks of Loka, DJ Krush and Sofa Surfers. If these names ring any bell, can anyone recommend anything vaguely similar?

Art Show: Tino Sehgal at the ICA

The Trilogy - Part Three

Yeah - he is back. Not as clever as last year. Therefore creating links to the upper floor piece of his phenomenal first appearance in 2005.

"I have decided that this artwork is called 'success'." As suggested by the image above, this year's performance (is it really performance art, or more like a Beuys' Social Plastic where everyone is an artist - I don't know...) involves children. That's as much I wish to reveal. You need to experience yourself what it is all about: just sit down somewhere in the corner and observe - you will find inspiration, guaranteed!

Until 4 March, 2007 at the ICA, Pall Mall

Art Show: Artists Anonymous - Drugs

What happens when you gaze at an image and then suddenly look away? You see an after image, but this time the colours are inverted.

According to wikipedia (on 22 January 2007, 23.20 GMT) "afterimages are caused when the eye's photoreceptors, primarily known as cone cells, adapt from the overstimulation and lose sensitivity".

The latter - overstimulation and loss of sensitivity - have something to do with the content of the artworks displayed in this new space in Vyner Street: drugs. Artists Anonymous is a Berlin-originated group of 'clean' drug addicts who have moved to London to show their fascinating art. It's a clever and playful idea on a serious issue, the impact of drugs, and the successful battle to get rid of them:

First, there is the painting (picture at top here), depicting a hallucinatory scene of drug-infested sex, nonsense, games, dreams and nightmares - through inverted colours. It feels cold, like being 'on turkey' (detox) or in the wrong movie, on the wrong party, the wrong side of life. Then, the painting is photographed (picture above), and the process of shooting on negative film refers to the afterimage turning yellow into blue and green into magenta etc - negative into positive. Now the figures seem to be made of real flesh, there is warm glow, it feels better. However, the content is the same. But since the negative also shows the image mirror-invertedly, the photograph now appears to be wrong side (if it had text in there you'd realize). Right or wrong? Positive or Negative? That is the question....that survivors of drug addiction can only assess and answer for themselves.

Having tried to help a friend at university getting clean from heroin and cocain, I got some painfully close insights into this matter. I truly hope for Maya and her colleagues that the afterimage remains their daily reality, and that their memory of surreal hallucinations remain afterthoughts on seeing the wrong coloursof life. (Well done, and good luck for the next five years and beyond!)

Art is better than any LSD! Vyner Street, E2

Art Show: Andrew Bracey - Freianlage

I love animals, preferably in free nature, rather than in a Zoo. That said, the Zoo plays a pivotal role in saving certain species from being extinct (think Panda) as well as educating humans about animals so that we take better care about our little (and big) friends.

Andrew's Freianlage is about Zoos and our relation to it. Just as observing social interaction of monkey tribes in their cages is like being shown the mirror of human behaviour (funny, sad, nasty, cheeky, egotistic, altruistic etc.), this well-curated show in this small space in Hackney exposes the imbalance of power in the battle for living space between our globalized consumer society and the billions of other species around.

His wall installation "Migrate" uses found objects, discarded, binned, thrown away, taken out of the consumer cycle, as a substitute for canvas or paper to paint birds in miniature scale. As a whole, a microcosm juxtaposing icons of nature (kingfisher, flock, robin etc.) with standard leftovers of the waste economy (cigarette boxes, screwed paper, plastic and other usual suspects). Looking at the individual piece, it is a sad yet motivated cry to mankind that battling for habitat is a zero-sum game - that our earthmates are loosing right now.

The monkey in the magnifying glass device, which looks like a robot from a car manufacturing assembly line, reminds me of the safari holiday quest: on the one hand there are the 'bad' types that leave a terrible ecological foodprint, on the other hand there are responsible tourists that understand and respect the animals' need for some remains of privacy, thus, only watching and filming animals from a decent distance with the help of this technological achievement.

My personal favourite is a tiger painted in oil on the tail end of a game dart - penetrated into a corner of the gallery walls. The arrow/dart missile is still the dominating hunting form for indigineous tribes in the rain forest across the globe - silent, efficient and deadly - just like the tiger itself who is known and respected as the king of the jungle, and only killed if attacking a human.

A real discovery! Until 28 January 2007 at Transition Gallery, E8

Art Show: Ricky Swallow

On my last exploration tour through Hackney, I found a couple of good shows in Vyner Street, the most impressive being Ricky Swallow's wood carvings. The sculptures of this Australian artist and Venice Biennale representative are a result of extraordinary craftsmanship. There are arms, shoes and other small scales pieces mounted on the wall or positioned on the floor.

My favourite is 'Younger than Yesterday', a skull that grows barnacles out of its vessel. Both outstandingly beautiful and disturbing at the same time. Swings and balances. Giving and taking. "The deterioration of the skull's former life becomes the root from which the barnacle's macabre decoration pushes forward and flourishes." It definetely invokes some scary thoughts on brain tumour and the notion of getting older.

What a shame that the gallery rep on the day was very uncommunicative - otherwise a nice conversation could have blossomed...(post note: as happened at the current exhibition:-)


Until 21 December 2006 at Modern Art

Art Show: Carsten Hoeller at Tate Modern

The annual turbine hall craze. Mass gatherings. Corporate Sponsorship (Unilever Series). Big Names. Monumental Scales. Art Experience. Free Entry. Media Hype. Or, in Joseph Beuys' world: a social plastic.

All installations I have seen so far in Tate Modern's Turbine Hall (Anish Kapoor Marsayas 2003, Olafour Eliasson's Weather Project 2004, Bruce Nauman 2005, Rachel Whiteread and now Carsten Hoeller's Slides) were installations that facilitate social interaction, self-assessment and geo-whatever (physical, psychological, economical, historical...) contemplation. The latter refers to the unique scales, concepts, forms and materials of these site specific commissions. They were all interesting. The white sugarboxes a bit boring. The 'sun' was magic. But the German's slides are different.

Rather than seeing or hearing, you can touch them. Finally something for the kinaesthetics amongst us. Moreover, a form of interaction and experience with art that is forbidden in most of the art shows that you will ever enter in your lifetime. Like the forbidden fruit in paradise - I have once been kicked out of the Abteiberg Museum in Germany's province because of daring to touch a specially surfaced part of the museum's white wall (oi - minimal art...!). And for a hands-on experience, what could be better than the slides? They are action, they look great (the craftsmanship make them appear to be requisites of a science fiction movie), and they tickle our mischieveous desire to be kid again and to play. And how handy that you have to accompany your off-spring for safety reasons. Excuse me, could I borrow your son please?


And even for the spectators, who choose not to take the burden of queueing away their Sunday afternoon for a 10 second episode of accelerated happiness, it is a spectacle. Being an observer and assessor of family dynamics, fashion trends and social behaviour, in an art palace like that, with no entry fee, good light to capture the scenes by camera, that's pretty priceless. And here, I think Hoeller's piece continues where the others ended (maybe Eliasson came closest); it is a happening, a social plastic, and everyone is an artist for a day, part of a masterplan: to make art more accessible, understandable and enjoyable for a wider audience.

For those who know me, I have nothing against conceptual art or other hard to digest forms of creative expression, but I do loathe some of these high-brow art farts dominating the magazines (writing) and biennales (curating), master-of-the-universe investor-collectors, star-gazing Frieze groupies, and the ridiculous art market that is more inflated than the global property bubble. Therefore, Hoeller's art is a funny yet smart piss-take on the whole scene itself: this hilarious circus | zoo | kindergarden called 21 century art world.

Until 7 April 2007 at Tate Modern

Art Show: Susanne Treister - Hexen 2039

I have discovered Susanne Treister at Frieze 2005 and immediately fell in love with her series of conceptual waterlolours and drawings based on the NATO Supply Classification system. Who on earth would have known that an organisaiton such as this geo-political military aliance would have a number code for literally everything on this planet, the stuff above is labelled as no 3805 - Earth moving and excavating equipment. I wasn't primarily impressed by her style of painting (even though its good), but by the simple fact how unusual her drive and talent is to challenge us, the average citizen, to question the world we live in; it makes you think what the hell is out there.


This winter, the artist has a multi-site exhibition going called Hexen 2039: 'New military occult technologies for psychological warfare - a Rosalind Brodsky research programme. Yes, it sounds nuts. But it's brilliant! Not only is she taking on an alter ego - in the future - but the whole thing is a fantastic 'phantasm'. The complex drawings and diagrammes (a bit like those of Mark Lombardi) are based on combining interesting and often unknown facts about subjects such as the Metro Goldwyn Mayer film company, Radio Towers, The London Science Museum, Mussorgsky's music Night on Bald Mountain, Rasputin, as well as urban myths about Freemasonry, the MI6 and The German Walpurgisnacht where witches (hexen) fly on brooms on the 1st of May.


Or in her words, "This work uncovers or constructs links between conspiracy theories, occult groups, Chernobyl, witchcraft, the US film industry, British Intelligence agencies, Soviet brainwashing, behaviour control experiments of the US Army and recent practices of its Civil Affairs and Psychological Operations Command (PSYOP), in light of alarming new research in contemporary neuroscience..."

Most of the 'interventions' have been closed by now, but the matter of Hexen 2039 - mind reading and mind control - is discussed at the Dana Centre on 13 February 2007