Montag, 29. November 2010

Thoughts for Painting Grey

notes by Dagmar I. Glausnitzer

(original text in German 2008, translated by Dagmar I. Glausnitzer in December 2009)

„ the inevitable is unknown or to discover conditions of obstinate layers”

The grey paintings happened during the days when my father was in the Hospice. He died on December 26, 2008 at 10:50 pm holding my hand.

During one of my visits to the Hospice, on a day in November 2008, he had been crying all day. His tears were flowing down his jaws without stopping. It was a foggy day and the colour on his face had vanished. He said: I have to leave you. He had never talked to me before about leaving but on that day, he knew that he would never go back home. The word ‘leaving’ gained another dimension and he was sure to face it. It was on this day in November when only the breath of nature determined what had to follow.

There was a thought, which I had not forgotten: during my journeys through India, I experienced: that which is being desired will not be fulfilled. The flow of life always takes a different turn against one’s own predetermined plan. Now, again my thoughts of what to say or do during the visit in the Hospice became entangled in concrete and material expectations.

This time my father once more taught me an important lesson: when I brought to him my intentions, they became obsolete. This meant that my personal plan can not acknowledge the world in its present setting of circumstances. The road will be swept free only without the desire for fulfilment and in preparation for an unknowable price. The indeterminate continues in life without the investment that expectations can be fulfilled and satisfaction achieved. My father knew that day, that he had to be ready to enter what appeared to be grey.

The colour grey is a threshold. Seems like dying. Seems like leaving colours behind. Inside the layers of grey, the colours have retreated. Pigments hide behind each tone of the variants in grey. Still, grey is actuality and presence. Grey has the potentiality of each and every existent colour. Grey is the movement between here and there, and unlike red, it is impossible to hold on to grey. Red has the clarity of being alone and thorough. But grey is as clear as mud, it escapes its definition. The colour grey refuses its name.

Grey, because the surfaces allow the light to penetrate through indifferent layers in search for colours.

Abstract, because the material has been freed therein, has been dissolved from the known and dispensed from that which has been recognized. The Abstraction is the threshold to an unimaginable reality.

The abundance of colour is the eternal difference and without comparison, grey is removed from the experience of acknowledgment. Only a veil, like a stubborn layer is visible of what is yet to be discovered beneath it. Grey is a layer, which binds itself to the undefined. Grey is the unity of all colours, like a dominant shadow. What might appear invisible because of the ways of perception, logic continues to strive for the material and ways to determine the colour.

Every thinkable colour becomes grey. Principally the colour grey is a mix of white and black and within it are uncountable tones between light and dark. His tears were the tones between here and there. The original palette of black and white is a position of clarity, unambiguous simplicity (can white or black be simple?); it has the potential of manifold but also bears the outset for the indeterminate layers of grey.

The first studies in oil probe the origin of grey and the movement in mixing amounts and shades. Perhaps in the end there was a similarity to ideas of mountain and water. But these analogies only occur in the imagination of the observer, and still they influence the process.

I have to look out of the window and contemplate the fog, the darkened trees and the landscape, which disappear in undefined clouds.

The grey disappointed the abstract for a moment.

© glausnitzer-smith Germany 2008-2009

Mittwoch, 24. November 2010

Worte von Marina Klett, Berlin

am 21.11.

das Grau muß weg

leg den roten BH um

heute Nacht im Alptraum gab es kein Rot

nebliger Morgen mit schweren Gedanken

ungekuesst vom roten Mund

das Herz steinern

zur Transplantation sollte es röten - herzensrot

iss doch ein Radieschen

beiss in Evas Apfel

rauch die rote Zigarette

bald schon ist sie Asche

neck mich, dass ich lache

grau braucht rot

rot wird grau

schlau macht jung und rot nicht faul

roll mir den roten Läufer aus

und streiche rot das ganze Haus.

Samstag, 20. November 2010

Haarscharf und um Haaresbreite





seats are available on the upper deck, a seat is there,

relax a little, wait a little,
to expand the comfort of waiting time I am sitting down
on the empty seat in the big transdev one of the city
waiting time from a - z and recognize the hidden elements
which are buried under the obviousness of contrast.

Colors are behind the curtains of numerous, uncounted windows

who is there in the district of the inner city.
There is a system where signals can be re-arranged
to make up for the marks.
The sight now is oblivious of reason much less to the effect
of negative spaces. The Palace and the hordes of uncounted objects
and m...coats, still who really knows if the poppies of the fields actually blossom in their darkest black.

Only the nail sculptor was worthy of those distributed pinks

and her straightest lines between a and z.
Then the locations of meaning in the mind begin to correlate to the
counted positions on the table, projects like place mats mark the time of the presence.
Voices from empty chairs dictate their priorities over and over again until each plate is filled with Grey.

von Marina Klett, Berliner Malerin

zeitweilig

Text in roter
Schrift auf grauen Hintergrund.
Himberrote Lippen küssen blutrote Rosen.
Rote Tränen weinen im Grau des Morgens und die aufgehende rote Sonne
erwärmt die trüben Gedanken.
Ich ziehe meinen roten Pullover an und putze den Grauschleier fort.
Dem Hund binde ich das rote Halsband um,
an der Ampelkreuzung macht er "sitz".
Nix wie weg hier. So könnte es bleiben.

Montag, 15. November 2010

Rot hinter Grau

Montagsröte


ich kaufte unzählige Lackpapierstückchen in Kupfer, Silber und Gold, unendlich aufgezogen an sichtlosen Fäden gemischt mit Lichterketten sollten sie aus dem Fenster hängen, wie eine ausgespuckte Pracht an der backsteindunklen Hauswand der Novembernacht.




Sonntag, 14. November 2010

Vom Sehen und Nachdenken
























Glausnitzer-Smith, November 2010





Vom Sehen und Nachdenken

Eine abgeleierte Rotgeschichte und trotzdem ist die Sammlung aus dem eigenen Bestand vorhanden und findet hier einen temporären Platz, wie alles auf der Werft temporär ist. Etwas ist da und wieder verschwunden.

Rote Lippen im roten Meer

Es dürfen Verbindungen geschaffen werden, die aus dem Dickicht der Gedanken herausstolpern und oftmals vom assoziativen Charakter nicht abweichen können. So gibt es Rotgedanken im fahrenden Zug und in verschiedenen Wartezuständen im täglichen Einerlei und Allerei.

Anhalten, nicht gehen, Achtung

Tücher, das Aushalten und Aufhalten durch Signale, die auf die gewohnte Weise Reaktionen im Gehirn auslösen.

Ja Grau beim Rot

So können allmählich alle Bezeichnungen dieser spezifischen Farbe ausgespart werden und möglicherweise entsteht etwas Anderes.

Plätze und Rathäuser am Meer

Ich erinnere mich wieder an das Grau, welches eben gerade dieses Weglassen im Prozess betont, da will ich wieder hin und in Wort und Farbe mich treiben lassen. Eben gerade durch das Weggelassene hindurch schlängeln und einen Weg finden, der die Signale und die Konditionierung in Frage stellt. Weitermachen und dem Grünen Licht folgen.

mit Schweiß und Tränen

Und was sagte sie noch, dieses kleine wunderhübsche Mädchen, als sie die Hacken ihrer Schuhe zusammenschlug.

Hass und Liebe vergessen wollen

und den unendlichen Vorstellungspfaden der Imagination neuen Schutz gewähren, das ist meine Absicht und das Experiment.
Nachtbilder und Tagworte kommen zusammen

Rot geschieht wie Blut gerinnt.



Glausnitzer-Smith 2000


Samstag, 13. November 2010

Rot Räume


India 2009


Mari Kolbeinson during T.a.T. Performance Art Workshop
in Jerxheim Bahnhof 2010










Rot auf Reisen



Rote Äugen






















Gesammeltes von digs