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ANA BILANKOV GOING BACK AND FORTH13.12.06 07:00PM

CAPTAIN’S DECK

LIDO DECK

ATLANTIC DECK

HORIZON DECK

BERMUDA DECK

CARIBBEAN DECK

EUROPA DECK

FLORIDA DECK

The exhibition has been realized w

ith the financial

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ffice for E

ducation, Cultural

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port, Zagreb and M

inistry of Culture

of R

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Izložba je realizirana sredstvima: G

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ureda za obrazovanje, kulturu i sport Grada

Zagreba i M

inistarstva kulture RH

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ANA BILANKOV : GOING BACK AND FORTHGALERIJA PM / DOM HRVATSKIH LIKOVNIH UMJETNIKA PM GALLERY / HOUSE OF CROATIAN ARTISTS TRG ÆRTAVA FA©IZMA BB, ZAGREB, CROATIA13.12.06 - 29.12.06.

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The exhibition has been realized w

ith the financial

assistance of City O

ffice for E

ducation, Cultural

Affairs and S

port, Zagreb and M

inistry of Culture

of R

epublic of Croatia.

GALERIJA PM

/ DO

M H

RVATSKIH LIKOVNIH U

MJETN

IKA

TRG ÆRTAVA FA©IZM

A BB, ZAGREB, CROATIA

AN

A BILAN

KOV / GO

ING BACK A

ND FO

RTH

Izložba je realizirana sredstvima: G

radskog

ureda za obrazovanje, kulturu i sport Grada

Zagreba i M

inistarstva kulture RH

.

ANA BILANKOV : GOING BACK AND FORTHGALERIJA PM / DOM HRVATSKIH LIKOVNIH UMJETNIKA PM GALLERY / HOUSE OF CROATIAN ARTISTS TRG ÆRTAVA FA©IZMA BB, ZAGREB, CROATIA13.12.06 - 29.12.06.

CAPTAIN’S DECK

LIDO DECK

ATLANTIC DECK

HORIZON DECK

BERMUDA DECK

CARIBBEAN DECK

EUROPA DECK

FLORIDA DECK

Ana Bilankov

The Things Left Over:

13 Days Diary

PROLOGUE

This is a story of my brother.

The ship, black & white, is moving slowly on the horizon.

From one projection to another, looping and circling uninterrupted.

I can see the void between the projections. Absence as the presence of nothingness.

How should I start?

Berlin, 29 September 2006

Newark Airport, 2 October 2006

Spent a couple of hours in the familiar no-space waiting for another plain to Orlando, Florida. I am for the first time in America now.

Flying above New York City, I think on my ancestors and how they came a hundred years ago after a long journey over the ocean to this ´promised new world´, and spent many years here working very hard. Some of them never came back. My brother was the last male line in the history of my family.

In my imagination America was never the ´promised land´ and I am just curious to see the “realized utopias” and “simulacra of the reality”, Baudrillard is talking about in his book “America”. And I think about what a privileged position I have, coming here as an artist to do a project about it.

I remember my brother´s view as I saw it recently in Zagreb on the photographs entitled as the “View of New York”. He shot them from one cruise ship on which he was working. You can only see some buildings and parts of other ships docked somewhere in New York, but it can be everywhere else. I am interested how the view in these photographs is constructed. I would like to see them again and analyze them exactly.

What did the structure of the lenses look like through which he saw the world?

New Smyrna Beach, Florida, 3 October 2006

Where shall I start?(After discussing my previous work with other visual artists at the Atlantic Center for the Arts).


I found myself here closed in the hermetic art world, somewhere in the north of Florida, in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by jungle vegetation. I feel claustrophobia because of the separation from the real world and the impossibility to move around without having a car. I was dropped here two days ago and I do not know where I am. I started to research on the Internet about New Smyrna Beach and neighboring places I saw on the map. I must find out where I am.


Today I start placing myself in the nice big dance studio. I can begin to write down some thoughts in the absence of new images. I feel as if I am living and working in a botanical garden, sharing the space with

other visual artists, composers, mystery writers and some strange animals I´ve never seen before and I described them this morning as “something between eagle, turtle and the snake”. My artist colleagues were wondering. Instead of “eagle” I wanted to say hedgehog, but I mixed it with the German word “Igel”.

I need the outside world to position myself.

This is a story about me, about my positioning here and about my searching for something that I would like to find out. And I don´t know now what it is.


06 10 06. Nice date. Very symmetrical. I am nervous today. The journey began but I do not know in which direction.

I decided to write down the first page of my book. Or the last page of a very old story. It will be some kind of real fiction. Or ‘mystery story’. I am writing it in English, because I am in America now. After finishing it I will translate it into Croatian, my mother tongue, for the exhibition I’ll have in December. I love these language inversions. The story will start with the sentence:

My brother left the ship “Meridian” docked in Miami on 12 October 1994 in an emergency. This was written in the letter by the Manager of Apollo Ship Chandlers, whose employee he was. On 13 October 1994 he appeared unexpectedly in Zagreb, his birth-place.

On 12 October 1994 I left Zagreb, my birth-place too, by night bus and arrived in Mainz, my migrant German home at this time, on 13 October 1994.

I didn´t know that he would be arriving. He didn´t know that I would be leaving. We passed each other in this 12 hours of our departures and arrivals being simultaneously somewhere in the transitional spaces.

After arriving in Germany I started to cry. I called several travel agencies to find out, if there are some available flights for Zagreb the next day. I did not have any reason to go back there. And at this point I did not know that my brother arrived in Zagreb and that I would see him there 3 weeks later in a hospital passing away. I didn’t know it. But I was crying, after all.

12 years later I am for the first time in America, as an Artist-in-Residence at the Atlantic Center for the Arts in New Smyrna Beach, Florida. And I decided to

go to Miami for two days by night bus. My journey will start on 12 October, a historical date in American history, the date Christopher Columbus discovered America and the exploitation of native Indians began.

It is about the impossibility of meeting each other, about shifting of time and place, about absence and nothingness, about losing control and about the necessity to have a structure, about wishing to love and to be loved, about being somewhere in between, about the impossibility of meeting in the same time and space, about coexistence of different time systems and spatial extensions.

I will arrive in Miami on Friday 13 October 2006. And exactly after 12 years we will pass each other again. Or meet each other.

-----------------

On 14 October 2006 in the morning a big monochrome ship on the horizon crossed in front of me. And this time, after 12 years, we could say hello and good-bye to each other.


Yesterday I started playing piano improvisations in my studio. It is nice to be just feeling. Pure expression without reflection. I love producing piano noise. The moment when each tone loses its individual quality in the noisy echo.

For the first time today I went by bicycle to the outside world. New Smyrna Beach is a very strange place: highway, some dead animals on it, cars, colored houses on both sides, advertisements, motels, nothing. I perceived it through the lenses of David Lynch films and some pictures of Edward Hopper. I shot several slides.

“You don’t have to arrive”, my artist colleague Alejandra from New York/Buenos Aires told me this morning in the kitchen.


I leaf through the brochure “Celebrity Cruises Caribbean 1994” and wonder how all the people in the photographs laugh with the very open mouths where you can see all their white shiny teeth. I try to reenact it photographing myself, but I can´t even close my teeth because of the deformation I have. I will never be able to appear on the brochure pages.

I scan the inside ship structures from the brochure and convert them into negatives. Think about the closed system of the ship as a constructed cosmogony with its own time and space categories like the books of Jules Verne, Roland Barthes writes about in “Mythologies”. I am again fascinated with pure geometrical structures of squares, rectangles, triangles, circles, as I was earlier in my black and white photography.

On the computer desk in Media Lab I found the prints of note systems for composing music. I like the visual structure and the repetition of the little rectangles between the lines. Samson, the composer from New York/Hong Kong, told me that this is a sign for nothing, nothing is played, it´s the silence.

It is nice to be here in the protected art world with other creative people and to share observations and experiences with them.

I saw Heeseop´s drawing today. It is so loud and noisy, like my improvised piano playing. I would like to scream like the lines in her drawings do.

Die Welt kann alles aus sich selbst gewinnen, sie brauch, um zu existieren, nichts als den Menschen. (Roland Barthes: Mythologie)

Marcellino has the same book here, so here is the English translation: The world can draw everything from itself; it needs, in order to exist, no one else but man.


The isolation here and impossibility to move around makes me mad. This is some kind of monastery for artists. Our artwork is praying for us.


Spoke with Guillermo about the similarity of the closed system of the ship and the hermetic art world here in the Atlantic Center for the Arts. He drew out the paradox and inverse situation going on here: The outside world of New Smyrna Beach with their nothingness is more claustrophobic than our isolated Art Center.

Read to him the Prologue. With these few sentences my first concept of a cruising ship looping in six projections around the circle space of the Gallery of Extended Media in Zagreb is finished. The sentences produce the clear image, I do not have to double it.


What is my brother a metaphor for? Is it the ghost of my past, which still dominates my present? And am I scared to actually meet it? I should go to Miami and finish this story. Maybe I will find nothing there. But I´ll go.


Do the dolphins sleep? If they sleep, they can’t breathe. So, half of their brain sleeps and half is awake, one eye is open, the other is closed. After 45 minutes the sides change.

Today we were on the Eco-Tour in New Smyrna Beach. In the car, on the way there, I share thoughts with SJ about this text and later on the ship the view of the beautiful living shells in the white plastic boxes on our laps.

In the evening, one hour before I leave for Daytona Beach to get a bus for Miami, I check my Email and find an Email from Steven, a Miami based artist I found on the Internet, who wanted to rent my flat in Berlin a month ago but then changed his traveling schedule. In his Email he writes about his new project starting now in Miami and that he perhaps will see me in Berlin, Miami, or some other enchanted place.

Miami Beach, Florida, 13 October 2006

I sit on the beach in Miami Beach. Nice young bodies are moving in front of me. Think about my brother and how he probably liked to be her.

In the port of Miami I saw only one ship. Nothing special. Start photographing people on the street. I feel I´d like to be close to them. I still do not know why I am here and what I am looking for. Steven, the only person I know in Miami, asks me to join him for the new local art magazine launch-party in the evening. As he enters my hotel in Espanola Way to pick me up – he lives in the same street - I recognize his face. I saw him on the Berlin Biennale opening party in March of this year, and wondered if he was Italian. Although his hair was like in Dürer´s self-portrait. I can´t remember if Dürer made this painting when he was in Italy. And I don´t know where these connections are coming from.

Miami Beach, Florida, 14 October 2006

This morning I went to the beach at Miami Beach to finish my last slide film with some self-portraits. In front of me the big ship from my prologue crossed away in slow motion from the right to the left of the image, before disappearing on the horizon.

Now I know what I was looking for. For this little moment in which my brother and I could say hello and good-bye to each other.

An hour later Steven took me to the port to take some video footage. Many ships were docked today and we made several drives from left to right and from right to left to film them.

Now I am going back to my temporary art family, somewhere in the north of Florida, surrounded by the jungle vegetation and strange animals. Like in the “Jungle Book” I loved when I was a child. And I am happy coming home. Here and there.

Ana Bilankov

Stvari, preostale: Dnevnik 13 dana

PROLOG

Ovo je priča o mome bratu.

Brod, crnobijeli, polako se kreće na horizontu.

Iz jedne projekcije u drugu, neprekidno kružeći.

Među projekcijama praznina. Odsutnost kao prisutnost ništavila.

Kako započeti?

Berlin, 29. rujna 2006.

Newark Airport, 2. listopada 2006.

Provodim nekoliko sati u poznatom mi ne-mjestu čekajući na drugi avion za Orlando, Florida. Prvi put sam u Americi.

Leteći iznad New Yorka mislim na svoje pretke, kako su ovdje došli prije stotinjak godina nakon dugoga putovanja preko oceana u taj ʻobećani novi svijetʼ, i kako su godinama tu živjeli teško radeći. Neki se nisu nikada vratili. Moj je brat bio posljednji u tom lancu u povijesti moje obitelji.

Za mene Amerika nije nikada bila ʻobećana zemljaʼ i ja sa znatiželjom očekujem da vidim “ostvarene utopije” i “surogat stvarnosti” o kojima govori Baudrillard u svojoj knjizi “Amerika”. Također razmišljam kako sam privilegirana, dolazeći ovamo kao umjetnica koja će raditi projekt o tome.

Sjećam se bratova pogleda na New York s njegovih fotografija koje sam nedavno vidjela u Zagrebu i koje su naslovljene “Pogled na New York”. Snimio ih je s turističkog broda na kojem je radio. Vide se samo zgrade i dijelovi brodova usidrenih negdje u New Yorku, ali to bi moglo biti bilo gdje drugdje. Zanima me kako je konstruiran pogled na tim fotografijama. Voljela bih vidjeti ih ponovno i precizno ih analizirati.

Kakva je bila struktura leća kroz koje je vidio svijet?

New Smyrna Beach, Florida, 3. listopada, 2006.

Gdje da počnem?

(Poslije razgovora o mojim prijašnjim radovima s drugim likovnim umjetnicima u Atlantik centru za umjetnost.)

New Smyrna Beach, Florida, 4. listopada 2006.

Našla sam se ovdje zatvorena u hermetičnome svijetu umjetnosti, negdje na sjeveru Floride, bogu iza leđa, okružena vegetacijom džungle. Osjećam klaustrofobiju zbog odvojenosti od stvarnoga svijeta i nemogućnosti kretanja bez automobila. Tu su me doveli prije dva dana i pitam se gdje sam to zapravo. Počela sam tražiti po Internetu podatke o New Smyrna Beach i okolnim mjestima koja sam vidjela na karti. Moram otkriti gdje sam.


Danas se smještam u lijepi veliki plesni studio. U pomanjkanju novih vizualnih materijala, počinjem bilježiti neke misli. Osjećam kao da sam u nekom botaničkom vrtu, dijelim prostor s ostalim likovnim umjetnicima, skladateljima, piscima krimića

i nekim neobičnim životinjama koje nikad prije nisam vidjela i jutros sam ih opisala kao nešto između orla, kornjače i zmije. Moji kolege umjetnici su se čudili. Umjesto orla (“eagle”) htjela sam reći jež (“hedgehog”), ali pomiješala sam to s njemačkom riječi “Igel”.

Potreban mi je vanjski svijet da se pozicioniram.

Ovo je priča o meni, o mome pozicioniranju ovdje i o potrazi za nečim što bih željela otkriti. Ali ovoga časa još ne znam što je to.


06.10.06. Lijep datum. Vrlo simetričan. Danas sam nervozna. Putovanje je započelo, ali ne znam u kojem smjeru.

Odlučila sam napisati prvu stranicu svoje knjige. Ili zadnju stranicu jedne stare priče. Bit će to neka vrsta stvarne fikcije. Ili krimić. Budući da sam sada u Americi, pišem je na engleskom. Kad završim prevest ću je na hrvatski, moj materinji jezik, za izložbu u prosincu u Zagrebu. Volim te jezične inverzije. Priča započinje rečenicom:

Moj je brat, tražeći hitan odlazak, napustio brod “Meridian” usidren u Miamiu 12. listopada 1994. Tako stoji u pismu

upravitelja agencije “Apollo Ship Chandlers” čiji zaposlenik je bio. Neočekivano se 13. listopada 1994. pojavio u Zagrebu, svome rodnom gradu.

Dana 12. listopada 1994. ja sam otišla iz Zagreba noćnim autobusom i 13. listopada 1994. stigla sam u Mainz, u to vrijeme moj migrantski dom u Njemačkoj.

Nisam znala da on dolazi. On nije znao da ja odlazim. Mimoišli smo se u tih dvanaest sati našeg odlaženja i dolaženja, nalazeći se oboje istovremeno negdje u prijelaznim međuprostorima.

Stigavši u Njemačku počela sam plakati. Nazvala sam nekoliko putničkih agencija kako bih pronašla neki let za Zagreb slijedećeg dana. Nisam imala nikakvog razloga vraćati se. Tada nisam znala da je moj brat stigao u Zagreb i da ću ga nakon tri tjedna tamo naći u bolnici na umoru. Nisam to znala. Unatoč tome, plakala sam.

Poslije dvanaest godina prvi sam put u Americi kao umjetnica u Atlantic centru za umjetnost u New Smyrna Beach na Floridi. I odlučih otići u Miami na dva dana noćnim autobusom. Putovanje će početi 12. listopada, na važan dan u američkoj povijesti, dan kad je Columbo otkrio Ameriku i kad je počelo zatiranje Indijanaca.

Radi se o nemogućnosti da se susretnemo, o pomaku u vremenu i prostoru, o odsutnosti i ništavilu, o gubitku kontrole i potrebi da se uspostavi struktura, o želji da se voli i bude voljen, o bivanju u međuprostorima, o nemogućnosti susreta u istom vremenu i prostoru i o koegzistenciji različitih vremenskih sustava i prostornih protežnosti.

U Miami stižem u petak 13. listopada 2006. I točno nakon dvanaest godina mi ćemo se opet mimoići. Ili susresti.

------------------------------

Dana 14. listopada 2006. ujutro veliki monokromni brod na horizontu prolazio je preda mnom. Ovaj smo put mogli jedno drugom reći zdravo i zbogom.


Jučer sam počela svirati klavirske improvizacije u mom ateljeu. Lijepo je kad možeš biti samo osjećaj. Čista ekspresija bez refleksije. Volim tu buku klavira. Onaj trenutak kad pojedini ton gubi svoju vlastitu kvalitetu u bučnom odjeku.

Danas sam prvi put prošetala biciklom u vanjski svijet. New Smyrna Beach je vrlo neobično mjesto: autoput, na njemu mrtve životinje, automobili, obojene kuće s obje strane, reklame, moteli, ništa. Promatrala sam to kroz leće David Lyncha i nekih slika Edwarda Hoppera. Snimih nekoliko dijapozitiva.

“Ne moraš stići”, reče mi jutros u kuhinji kolegica umjetnica Alejandra iz New Yorka/Buenos Airesa.


Listam brošuru “Celebrity Cruises Caribbean 1994” i pitam se kako to da se svi ljudi na fotografijama smiju tako otvorenih usta, da im možes vidjeti sve bijele sjajne zube. Pokušavam tako snimiti sebe, ali ja jedva da mogu stisnuti zube zbog deformacije koju imam. Ja nikada neću moći osvanuti na stranicama takvih brošura.

Skeniram slike strukture unutrašnjosti broda iz brošure i pretvaram ih u negative. Mislim o zatvorenome sistemu broda kao konstruiranoj kozmogoniji s vlastitim vremenskim i prostornim kategorijama poput Jules Vernovih knjiga o kojima piše Roland Barthes u “Mitologijama”. Ponovo me fascinira čista geometrijska struktura pravokutnika, kvadrata, trokuta, kružnica kao i ranije na mojim crno-bijelim fotografijama.

Na stolu s računalom u ʻMedia labuʼ našla sam ispise notnih sustava za komponiranje. Volim vizualne strukture i ponavljanje malih pravokutnika na crtovlju. Samson, skladatelj iz New Yorka/Hong Konga rekao mi je da je to znak za prazninu, to se ne svira, tišina je.

Lijepo je biti ovdje u zaštićenom, umjetničkom svijetu s drugim kreativnim ljudima i s njima dijeliti opažanja i iskustva.

Danas sam vidjela Heesopin crtež. Tako je bučan i žestok, poput mog improviziranog sviranja na klaviru. Željela bih vrištati poput linija na njezinim crtežima.

Die Welt kann alles aus sich selbst gewinnen, sie braucht, um zu existieren, nichts alles als den Menschen.(Roland Barthes: Mythologie)

Marcellino ima ovdje istu knjigu, pa evo prijevoda na Engleski: The world can draw everything from itself; it needs, in order to exist, no one else but man.

Svijet može sve izvući iz sebe sama; samo mu treba, da bi postojao, ništa drugo doli čovjek.


Ova izoliranost i nemogućnost da se krećem okolo me izluđuju. Ovo je neka vrst samostana za umjetnike. Naši umjetnički radovi mole za nas.


Razgovaram s Guillermom o sličnosti zatvorene strukture broda i hermetičkog umjetničkog svijeta u Atlantik centru za umjetnost. Poslužio se paradoksom i opisao inverznu situaciju koja se ovdje zbiva: Vanjski svijet u New Smyrna Beachu sa svojim je ništavilom klaustrofobičniji od našeg izoliranog umjetničkog centra.

Čitam mu Prolog. S tih nekoliko rečenica moj je prvi koncept plovećeg broda, koji kruži u šest projekcija oko kružnog prostora Galerije proširenih medija u Zagrebu, gotov.Rečenice proizvode jasnu sliku, ne trebam je umnažati.


Kakvu metaforu predstavlja moj brat? Je li to duh moje prošlosti koja još uvijek dominira mojom sadašnjošću? I bojim li se doista s tim susresti? Moram otići u Miami i dovršiti tu priču. Možda tamo ne nađem ništa. Ali idem.


Spavaju li delfini? Ako spavaju, ne mogu disati. Tako pola njihovog mozga spava a pola je budno, jedno im je oko otvoreno a drugo zatvoreno. Nakon 45 minuta strane se izmjenjuju.

Danas smo bili na ekoturi u New Smyrna Beachu. Putem, u autu, izmjenjujem misli s SJ o mom tekstu, a kasnije na brodu, pogled na prekrasne žive školjke u bijelim plastičnim kutijama u našem krilu.

Navečer, sat prije odlaska u Daytona Beach, gdje lovim autobus za Miami, provjeravam mailove i nalazim Stevenovu poruku, umjetnika iz Miamia kojeg sam našla preko Interneta i koji je prije mjesec dana htio iznajmiti moj stan u Berlinu, ali je onda promijenio plan putovanja. U e-mailu piše o svom novom projektu kojeg je započeo u Miamiu i da očekuje da ćemo se možda vidjeti u Berlinu, Miamiu ili nekom drugom čarobnom mjestu.

Miami Beach, Florida, 13. listopada 2006.

Sjedim na obali u Miami Beachu. Lijepa mlada tijela kreću se preda mnom. Mislim na svog brata i o tome kako se njemu vjerojatno sviđalo biti ovdje.

U luci vidim samo jedan brod. Ništa posebno. Počinjem fotografirati ljude na ulicama. Osjećam kako bi im se voljela približiti. Još uvijek nisam sigurna zašto sam ovdje i što ja to tražim.

Steven, jedina osoba koju znam u Miamiu, poziva me da mu se pridružim večeras na “launch-party” povodom izlaska novog lokalnog časopisa za umjetnost. Kad je došao po mene u hotel u Espanola Way - on živi u istoj ulici - prepoznajem mu lice. Vidjela sam ga, naime, na otvorenju Berlinskog bijenala u ožujku ove godine i pitala sam se da li je možda Talijan. Premda mu je kosa bila poput one na Dürerovom autoportretu. Ne sjećam se da li je Dürer naslikao taj portret kad je bio u Italiji. I ne znam zapravo odakle sve te podudarnosti.

Miami Beach, Florida, 14. listopada 2006.

Ujutro odlazim na obalu Miami Beacha. Želim ispucati svoj posljednji dijafilm s nekoliko autoportreta. Preda mnom prolazi veliki brod iz moga Prologa, lagano se krečući s

desna na lijevo prije nego što će nestati na obzoru.

Sada znam što sam tražila. Ovaj mali trenutak u kojem smo moj brat i ja mogli reći zdravo i zbogom jedno drugome.

Sat kasnije Steven me vodi u luku kako bih snimila video materijale. Danas je tu usidreno mnogo brodova. Vozimo se nekoliko puta s lijeva na desno, pa s desna na lijevo i snimamo ih.

Sada se vraćam svojoj umjetničkoj obitelji, tamo negdje na sjeveru Floride, okruženoj divljom vegetacijom i neobičnim životinjama. Kao u “Knjizi o džungli” koju sam kao dijete voljela. I sretna sam što se vraćam kući. Ovdje i tamo.

hvala / thanks to :

Guillermo Kuitca, SJ Rozan i svim ostalim kolegama

umjetnicima i organizatorima boravka u Atlantskom centru

za umjetnost, New Smyrna Beach, Florida USA u listopadu

2006. / and all other artist colleagues and organizational staff at October 2006 Residency at the Atlantic Center for the Arts, New Smyrna Beach, Florida USA; Steven D. Gagnon; Marko Boško, Krešimir Štimac; Vlasta Gracin /

Gradski ured za obrazovanje, kulturu i sport / City Office for Education, Cultural Affairs and Sport, Zagreb; Sanja Iveković, Antonia Majača, Bojana Pejić, Anna Zosik,

Sunčica Ostoić, Leo Katunarić, Ivan Marušić Klif i svima

koji su pomogli realizaciji projekta / and all others, who supported the project.

Korektura /eng/ : SJ RozanPrijevod /hr/ : Smiljka Bilankov, Ana BilankovLektura /hr/ : Boris Nazansky

Editing /eng/ : SJ RozanTranslation /cro/ : Smiljka Bilankov, Ana BilankovProof reading /cro/ : Boris Nazansky

I uz ranije radove Ane Bilankov ponekad se pojavljivao tekst, tj. sasvim kratke reËenice koje su korespondirale s prizorima s videoprojekcija ili fotografija, doËaravajuÊi neprestanu potrebu da vlastito pozicioniranje, usprkos uspostavljenim navikama æivota u meuprostorima dolazaka i odlazaka, uËini moguÊim. Moglo se naslutiti kako ispod tih neutralnih, depersonaliziranih predstava i neodreenih kratkih reËenica postoji neka skrivena stvarnost koja kao da se opire naraciji. Ti neimenovani fragmenti stvarnosti, fragilni trenuci bez uporiπta, stereotipi prolaznih ne-mjesta postali su aluzivnim imaginiarijem kojim autorica posreduje odreeno stanje osjeÊajuÊi ga kao supstanciju vlastitog migrantskog identiteta, identiteta osobe navikle na stranost. U zamraËenom kruænom prostoru galerije vidimo goleme dnevne i noÊne projekcije jednog luËkog grada na Floridi. Dok ih samo promatramo, ne znajuÊi niπta o tome kako su, kada i zaπto zabiljeæeni baπ ti prizori, sluπajuÊi zvukove koji se stapaju u buËni æamor, doæivljavamo ih s pozicije putnika i stranca, kao arhetipske prizore ne-mjesta. Projekcije se ponavljaju u loopu. Ponovno se suoËavamo s prvim prizorom: golemim putniËkim brodom, Ëije ubrzano udaljavanje i pribliæavanje zumiranjem prati uznemirujuÊi zvuk sirene, a potom neπto nalik na zvuk lomljenja stakala. U jednom dijelu galerije, za malim stolom, Ëitamo Anin dnevnik u kojemu nailazimo na reËenice: “OdluËila sam napisati prvu stranicu

svoje knjige. Ili zadnju stranicu jedne stare priËe. Bit Êe to neka vrsta stvarne fikcije. Ili krimiÊ.” U tekstu koji slijedi doznajemo da su videosnimke nastale u Miamiju, srediπnjoj luci za velike turistiËke brodove, na jednom od kojih je nekad radio i njezin brat, te otkrivamo kako motiv odlaska u jet-setersku meku nije potaknut tipiËnom turistiËkom znatiæeljom koju obiËno prati æelja za osvajanjem prostora, nego taj odlazak ima mnogo dublje psiholoπke razloge. U Dnevniku, uvoenjem treÊeg lica, umjetnica intuira bit romaneskne strukture, koja zahvaljujuÊi tom “on” i ponekom aoristu, ËitaËima omoguÊuje spokojni uæitak u vjerodostojnoj pripovijesti. “Roman zaleuje, od æivota stvara sudbinu, od sjeÊanja koristan Ëin, a od trajanja usmjereno i suvislo vrijeme.” (Roland Barthes) No treÊe lice pojavljuje se tek nakratko, ponovno uranjajuÊi u prvo. Pribliæavanje cilju linearnom narativnom strukturom usporava se digresijama vlastitih doæivljaja na putu, a cilj se otkriva kao iracionalna æelja za trenutkom nemoguÊeg susreta. Usprkos Ëinjenici da doæivljaj ne-mjesta sve viπe postaje jednom od globalnih sastavnica svih vidova druπtvenog bivanja, u konkretnoj se stvarnosti danaπnjeg svijeta mjesta i prostori ili ne-mjesta i mjesta prepliÊu i proæimaju. Nema mjesta koje ne bi sadræavalo moguÊnost ne-mjesta, ali isto tako, ova tvrdnja funkcionira i u obrnutom smjeru, tjeπi nas Marc Augé�, piπuÊi o ne-mjestima kao bujajuÊim metastazama

� Marc Auge, Nemjesta, Uvod u moguÊu antropologiju supermoderniteta, Biblioteka Psefizma, Zagreb, 200�.

Potraga za mjestom susretaStranac je sanjar koji vodi ljubav s odsutnoπÊu…, piπe Julija Kristeva u knjizi ‘Strangers to Ourselves’. Neka skrivena rana tjera ga na putovanje.

suvremenog svijeta. Mjesta putnika pojavljuju se kao iznenadne oaze smisla, u nepoznatim prostorima, meu nepoznatim ljudima koje nakratko povezuje neπto zajedniËko. Upravo to se dogaa u Atlantic Center for the Arts, u izoliranom mjestu za umjetnike “negdje na sjeveru Floride” gdje se Ana zatekla krenuvπi na put potaknuta sasvim osobnom priËom. O ponovnom osjeÊanju stranosti mjesta koje opisuje kao “nigdinu” rjeËito govore i dijapozitivi koji se smjenjuju uz mali stol sa sobnom lampom i njezinim dnevnikom. Prizori kojima locira svoj okoliπ snimani su s distance; u prvom je planu obiËno asfaltna cesta, slijede kuÊe u nizu i poneko palmino drvce u drugom planu, viπe opisujuÊi prazninu negoli otkrivajuÊi autentiËnost nekog odreenog prebivaliπta. Tu je i nekoliko neobiËnih prizora poput snimke na cestu baËenog prepariranog medvjeda, prekrasne prazne plaæe (“raj za turiste”) i njezin autoportret na kojem se smijeπi, ilustrirajuÊi kako ne moæe postiÊi savrπeno blistav osmijeh preplanule posade cruisera iz jednog paæljivo Ëuvanog prospekta iz �994. koji je ostao kao saËuvani trag kojim se prisjeÊa brata. Kao nekadaπnji Ëlan posade tog istog broda sa stranica prospekta na kojima poziraju ljudi zavodljiva looka obeÊavajuÊi dobar provod i avanturu, on se u njega ukrcao izravno iz jedne posve drugaËije, miljama udaljene zbilje rata i bojiπnica. Ono nevidljivo iz proπlosti πto nas ponekad tako snaæno odreuje i opire se jeziku i reprezentaciji, u opipljivoj stvarnosti postoji joπ

samo kao prostor s kojeg se nekada odlazilo i na koji se vraÊalo. Iako je rijeË o neËem posve iracionalnom, slutimo nezadræivu potrebu za ponavljanjem putanje da bi se u kratkom doæivljaju bivanja u prostoru zauvijek odsutne bliske osobe ostvarila toËka presijecanja koja je jednom fatalno izostala: mjesto susreta. Jedan od naËina zaustavljanja tog krhkog trenutka, prenosi se na Ëin pisanja, kreativni proces proizvodnje smisla. Bit onoga πto nastaje viπe i nije u leæerno najavljenom æanru (roman ili krimiÊ), nego u procesu u kojem se jezik zapravo ne definira onim πto kazuje veÊ onim πto omoguÊava da on teËe, protjeËe i rasprskava se — æeljom. Ono πto uistinu postaje bitno jest proces2 a ne cilj, hrabrost da se krene πirom otvorenih oËiju na ranjivo mjesto, koje iako skriveno i duboko potisnuto ne prestaje emanirati istu nerazumnu æelju za susretom. Daleki put na koji se otisnula u potrazi za intenzitetom osamljenog i nijemog susreta s odsutnim Drugim, na kraju se otkriva kao iscjeljujuÊe suoËavanje sa simptomima stranosti vlastitog izmiËuÊeg identiteta koji se ostvaruje i postoji upravo u odnosu na nekog Drugog.radmila Iva jankoviÊ

� Æil Delez i Feliks Gatari, Anti-Edip, “Proces”, str. �06. Theoria, Sremski Karlovci, �990.

Sometimes words, short sentences, which corresponded to the scenes from the videos or the photographs, would accompany the earlier works of Ana Bilankov too, conjuring up an incessant need, in spite of the settled habits of a life in the interstices between comings and goings, to make the positioning of the self feasible. It was possible to sense that there was, beneath these neutral and depersonalised representations and the indeterminate short sentences, some veiled reality that, as it were, resisted narration. These anonymous fragments of reality, fragile moments without any underpinning, stereotypes of passing non-places, became an allusive imaginary with which the author mediated a certain state of mind, feeling it the substance of her own migratory identity, the identity of a person adjusted to being alien.In the darkened circular space of the gallery, we can see vast daytime and nighttime projections of a port town in Florida. While we are just looking at them, not knowing anything about what how, why and when it was that just these scenes were chosen, listening to the sounds that blur into a raucous drone, we are also experiencing them from the position of traveller and foreigner, as archetypal scenes of non-places. The projection goes round in a loop. Again we meet the same scene: a vast passenger liner, rapidly coming closer and getting further away again in the zoom setting, all to the disturbing sound of the siren, and then something like the sound of shattering glass. In a part of the gallery, at a little table, we can read Ana’s diary, in which we might light upon the sentence: “I decided to write down the first

page of my book. Or the last page of a very old story. It will be some kind of real fiction. Or mystery story.” In the text that follows, we find that the video clips were created in Miami, central port for the great cruisers, on one of these ships, on which her brother worked, at the same time discovering that the motivation for travelling to this jet-set mecca was none of the standard tourist curiosity that usually accompanies the need to eat up miles, rather that the journey had much deeper psychological reasons.In the Diary, with the introduction of a third party, the artist intuits the essence of the novelistic structure, which thanks to this “he” and the occasional use of the aorist, enables the reader to take pleasure in a credible tale. “The novel freezes, makes fate out of life, a useful fact from memory, and of duration, a directed and cogent time” (Roland Barthes). But the third person occurs just for a moment, and once again the diary is steeped in the first person. Drawing closer to the finish in the linear narrative structure slows down with digressions concerning the experiences from along the way, and the objective is revealed as an irrational desire for a moment of impossible encounter. In spite of the experience of non-place increasingly becoming one of the global ingredients of all forms of social being, in the concrete reality of today’s world the places and spaces or non-places and places are more and more interfused and intertwined. There is no place such as not to be able to contain the possibility of non-place, and also, this statement functions in an opposite sense, Marc Augé says

search for a Place of encounterThe foreigner is a dreamer making love with absence…, writes Julia Kristeva in the book ‘Strangers to Ourselves’. There is some hidden wound that drives him to wandering.

by way of consolation�, writing of non-places as the flourishing metastases of the present day world. The place of the traveller will appear as a sudden oasis of meaning, in the unknown spaces, among unknown people who are for a brief moment linked by something in common. This actually happened in the Atlantic Center for the Arts, in an isolated artist’s colony “somewhere in Florida” where Ana fetched up while setting out on a journey moved by an entirely personal story. The slides that change by a little table with the table lamp and her diary speak eloquently of the renewed feeling of strangeness of a place that she describes as “in the middle of nowhere”. The scenes with which she locates her surrounds are shot from a distance; in the foreground there is usually blacktop, then a row of houses, and the occasional palm in the middle ground, describing more of the emptiness of the place than revealing the authenticity of some given abode. Then there are some uncommon scenes like the shot of a stuffed bear thrown onto the road, a lovely empty beach (“tourist paradise”) and a self-portrait, in which she smiles, illustrating that she can’t achieve the perfectly glittering smile of the tanned crew of a cruiser from a carefully preserved prospectus of �994, a clue that enables her to remember her brother. As a one-time crewmember of the same ship featured on the pages of the prospectus, on which people with seductive looks pose in a pledge of fun time and adventure, he shipped on board directly from an

� Marc Augé, [Non-places: Introduction to an Anthropology of Supermodernity], ref. to Croatian version, pub. Biblioteka Psefizma, Zagreb, 200�.

entirely different reality, miles away, of war and battlefields.What in the past is invisible but that sometimes defines us so strongly and resists both language and representation, becomes, in palpable reality, just a space from which one once went away and to which one returned. Although this is something that is entirely irrational, we can feel the irresistible urge to repeat the trajectory, so as in the brief experience of being in the same space as a now always-absent loved one to be able to achieve a point of intersection that once was crucially lacking: the place of encounter. One of the ways of arresting this brittle moment is located in the act of writing, the creative process of the production of sense. The essence of what comes into being lies no longer in the casually announced genre (novel or crime story), but in the process in which language is not defined by what it says but by what enables it to move on, flow past and spatter out — by desire. What indeed becomes essential is process2, not end, courage to move on with eyes wide open to the place of vulnerability, which although hidden and deeply suppressed does not cease to emanate the same unintelligible desire for meeting. The long journey she set out on in the search for the intensity of a lone and mute encounter with the absent Other is at the end revealed as a healing confrontation with the symptoms of the foreignness of her own shifting identity, which is achieved and subsists precisely when related to some Other. radmila Iva jankoviÊ

� Giles Deleuze and Felix Guattari, Anti-Oedipus, (Serbian edition) Sremski Karlovci, �990, p. �06

Ana Bilankov Roena �968. u Zagrebu. Æivi i radi u Berlinu i Zagrebu. Zavrπila je studij povijest umjetnosti i germanistike na SveuËiliπtu u Zagrebu, studij umjetniËke fotografije na Wiesbadener Freie Kunstschule te postdiplomski studij “Umjetnost u kontekstu” na Universität der Künste u Berlinu. Boravila je na viπe studijskih boravaka u inozemstvu, izmeu ostalog 2006. u Atlantic Center for the Arts, Florida, USA, 2004. u Moscow House of Photography na stipendiji Berlinskog Senata znanosti i kulture, a ranije je bila dobitnica DAAD/Erasmus stipendije na University of the West of England-Faculty for Art and Media & Watershed Media Centre u Bristolu, UK. Kontakt : [email protected]

Ana Bilankov Born in �968 in Zagreb. Lives and works in Berlin and Zagreb. Studied History of Art and German Language and Literature in Zagreb and in Mainz, Art Photography in Wiesbaden and completed postgraduate studies „Fine Art in Context“ at the University of the Arts Berlin. 2002 she was artist in residence at Watershed Media Centre Bristol, UK, 2004 at Moscow House of Photography with the fellowship from Berlin Senate for Science, Research and Culture and 2006 at Atlantic Centre for the Arts, Florida, USA. contact :[email protected]

Izabrane samostalne izloæbe / selected solo exhibitions�006 Inventing a Space, Institute of Contemporary Interdiscipinary Arts, University of Bath, UK; �005 UhodeÊi crni kvadrat: Moskovski fragmenti, Galerija Miroslav KraljeviÊ, Zagreb; �004 analog, Galerie 35, Berlin / Izmisliti prostor, Galerija Nova, Zagreb / Shadowing the Black Square: Moscow Fragment, Cultural Centre ArtStrelka - Gallery James, Moscow;�00� Sweet Home, Watershed Media Centre Bristol, UK.

Izabrane grupne izloæbe / selected group exhibitions �006 No Man´s Land/Womanifesto: http://www.womanifesto.com/en/event5/participate.asp/ Bangkok, Thailand / L´Usage Du Monde, Muzej moderne i suvremene umjetnosti Rijeka / Strictly Berlin: Media Art from Berlin, Galerie der Künste, Berlin / International Creation Film and Video Festival: New Moving Images, Beirut, Lebanon;�005 �st Moscow Biennale: Special project “Gender Troubles”, Museum of Contemporary Art Moscow / 39. ZagrebaËki Salon vizualnih umjetnosti, HDLU Zagreb / Silver Camera, Moscow House of Photography, Moscow / Insert: Retrospektiva hrvatske video umjetnosti, Muzej suvremene umjetnosti, Zagreb / Visura Aperta Momiano 05 / 34. Splitski Salon: Pejzaæ u suvremenoj likovnoj umjetnosti i kulturi, HULU Split;�003 �6. Adria Art Annale, Dioklecijanova palaËa, Split; �00� (Un)sichtbar leben — Neue Medienkunst aus migrantischer Perspektive, Kunst- und Medienzentrum Adlershof, Berlin; 2000 SAKRA, Zionskirche, Berlin.

Izloæeni radovi / exhibited works

going Back and forth, 2006, �4´ 4�”4-kanalna audio-video-instalacija s 8 sinhroniziranih video projekcija na zidu, ca. 5x7 m, boja, zvuk, loop / 4-channel audio-video installation with 8 synchronised video projections on the wall, ca. 5x7 m, color, sound, loop Kamera / Camera : Ana BilankovMontaæa / Editing : Ana Bilankov, Marko BoπkoProgramiranje / Programming : Marko BoπkoTehniËki asistent / Technical assistant : Kreπimir ©timacMuzika / Sound : Bajada Clandestina Esperanza, Sufjan Stevens, N.N., Laid Back Band, Led Zeppellin.

stvari, preostale: Dnevnik �3 dana / the things left over: �3 Days Diary, 2006 4 biljeænice, prospekt “Celebrity Cruises Caribbean �994”, stol, stolice, stolna lampa / 4 booklets, brochure “Celebrity Cruises Caribbean �994”, � table, chairs, reading lamp

stvari, preostale / the things left over, 2006, 4´�2”digitalna dijaprojekcija na zidu / digital slide projection on the wall, ca. 38 x 53 cm

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