Dinsdag verwelkomden we Benedetta Parisi —helemaal uit Turijn— in (hot, hot, hot) Antwerpen om enkele fragmenten van haar WIP-project te delen.
We leerden de enthousiaste artiest tijdens Proximamente kennen. Toen ze ons liet weten een residentie in België te willen lopen, vonden we het super fijn en waardevol dat we haar hierin konden ondersteunen. We linkten Benedetta aan le BAMP —waar ze nu verblijft— en met artiesten uit het WIPCOOP-netwerk. Zo interviewde ze David Labi, Augusto Pedraza, Nela Deleu, Tamayo Okano, Omar Cortegana, die boeiende verhalen met haar deelden. En we organiseerden —dinsdag dus— een deelmoment… We genoten er van de liefdesverhalen op afstand van (inmiddels geen) vreemden meer die Benedetta tijdens haar residenties had ontmoet.
"Why have people been moving across the earth since the beginning of human history? Why do people migrate? Benedetta Parisi's work opens with these questions. What are the distances of our lives? The distances that separate us from the places we love? From the people we love?" — verslag van Benedetta (lees het volledige verslag hieronder)
Na Benedetta’s presentatie verkenden we het thema ‘afstand’ en hoe we daar individueel en collectief mee omgaan, samen met enkele artiesten uit het WIPCOOP-netwerk — Tamayo Okano, Augusto Pedraza, Andrea Gallo Rosso & Moryana Filipova.
“Andrea begins to move, almost dancing. He brought a t-shirt and leaves it on the ground, tracing his silhouette. His voice, from a distance, tells of his absence on the outline. His death, perhaps. What do we leave behind when we disappear? What traces do we leave?” — verslag van Benedetta (lees het volledige verslag hieronder)
Het werd een prachtige middag, met veel persoonlijke verhalen, reflectie, nieuwe vragen, inzichten en verbindingen.
“Speaking of these distances, perhaps the only thing we can say in the end is that the distance between us, in the moment we were talking about it, grew thinner — allowing us to speak, close up and from afar together, truly sharing, for one moment, only the present.” — verslag van Benedetta (lees het volledige verslag hieronder)
Benedetta verblijft momenteel bij le BAMP om haar onderzoek naar afstand en liefde voort te zetten. Veel succes, Benedetta! We zijn erg enthousiast en benieuwd waar je verhalen je hierna naartoe zullen brengen.
Bedankt iedereen voor jullie komst in deze zinderende hitte en voor het openstellen naar niet-langer-vreemden ❤️
Verslag Benedetta
Antwerp Report – Tuesday, June 24 Why have people been moving across the earth since the beginning of human history? Why do people migrate? Benedetta Parisi's work opens with these questions. What are the distances of our lives? The distances that separate us from the places we love? From the people we love? The group made up of Tamayo, Moryana, Andrea, Augusto, and the Mestizo Art Platform team then introduced themselves through Personal Acts. Each person chose a way of presenting themselves to the others — whether with an object, a staged action, or a story. During the personal acts, the rest of the group noted down where they could see a distance in the others' work, whatever distance meant to them. Moryana brought a necklace from her mother's collection from Bulgaria. We could listen to the sound while she told us about Bulgaria, about the 15 kg of jewelry sent by her mother, about the homesickness that coexists with the desire to fight to create her own path, to seek possibilities. The distance is named between art and ordinary life, between Moryana’s smile and the melancholy she tells us about, between this sadness and creation. Moryana tells us, "happiness can move us." Tamayo, in silence, begins to move from the ground. She approaches each member of the group, including Tine's dog. Her body searches for connections, meets the others, very closely, sniffing them, brushing against them. Everyone reacts differently to that touch. It puts us in crisis, raises questions in us: what should I do? How should I react to this closeness? What distance is there between us and animals? Between above and below? In this waiting for the touch we ask ourselves questions. Augusto tells us that his wake-up this morning came through the news of the elections in Colombia. The right wing won. Suddenly the world outside this room bursts into our reflection. What distance is there between me and the struggle? Can I fight for my country from afar? Am I an activist? How can I be one? What distance is there between politics and my daily life? "We don't know where we are," Augusto says. Where are we? And again the question returns: what is our place in the world? Andrea begins to move, almost dancing. He brought a t-shirt and leaves it on the ground, tracing his silhouette. His voice, from a distance, tells of his absence on the outline. His death, perhaps. What do we leave behind when we disappear? What traces do we leave? Memory, as a form of distance within time and presence at the same time. The tension between Andrea telling us about his accident and the shape on the ground, which we can still feel. Mulanga tells us how, for the first time in her life, she finds herself geographically very close to her father, while at the same time feeling she has never been so far from him. She finds herself close to her childhood and suddenly far from her adulthood. How do we position ourselves within distance and closeness? Like the ripples that form in water, our actions reverberate through space, through distance, through time. Paulien brings as her central theme the distance between artist and mother. Her fear of death in relation to her son. Time: past – present – future. And how, for her, the only way to escape this relentless time is to try to create a present moment, to be everything everywhere all at once. She saves us by sharing these few, so concise words with us. We escape fear only by staying like this: in the infinite instant, which she tries to create for her son. But distance can also help, says Tine. It can give us other perspectives, it can help us face things, see them more clearly. The distances we speak are connect to one another, intertwine. They carry the themes that are part of our research, our lives, and we see them voiced by others. Speaking of these distances, perhaps the only thing we can say in the end is that the distance between us, in the moment we were talking about it, grew thinner — allowing us to speak, close up and from afar together, truly sharing, for one moment, only the present.
