1. |
Art After Hours
05:05
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I know an object,
it used to be an art piece
now
it finds itself
with its back to the wall
at this new left-field party place
called Empty Brain Resort
where other artists
dance and talk,
they probably don’t even
recognise it anymore.
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2. |
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You are an artist and that means: you don’t do it for the money. That is what some people think. It is a great excuse not to pay you for all the things you do. So what happens is that you, as an artist, put money into projects that others will show in their museum, in their Kunsthalle, in their exhibition space, in their gallery. So you are an investor. You give loans nobody will repay you. You take financial risks. You speculate on yourself as an artistic asset. You are a trader. You cannot put all your money into one kind of artistic stock. So you diversify your activities. You manage the risks you take. You would say it differently. I know. You say you suffer from a gentle schizophrenia. You have multiple personalities. You are a photographer, but also a DJ. You have a magazine, you are a publisher, but you also organize parties. You take photos of party people. You throw a party when you present a magazine, you make magazines with photographs of party people, you throw a party and you are the DJ. You do interviews with people you meet, you do interviews with people you would like to meet, you tell the people you meet about your magazine. You buy records on flea markets, you distribute flyers announcing parties in the bar where you have a coffee after visiting the flea market, you make videos recording how you destroy the records you bought on the flea market, you liberate your country from its bad music, you show the video in a gallery and you are a DJ at the vernissage. You invite other DJs to DJ with you, you are an MC and someone else is the DJ, you welcome the people who came to the party, you introduce people to one another. You are an artist and you are a mediator, you mix records and you want people to mix, you even mix photographs, you mix photographs of people you want to mix. You present yourself as someone else and you are the way you present yourself. You pretend and you are for real. You sing. You’re doing research on the swing.
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3. |
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Down the rickety ladder
he looks through the keyhole
of another heavy door
and used by Maud, the brewer,
alone and stirring a boiling batch
I’m in the basement
boiling the barley
I have a secret
no one may know
slipping and sliding,
something’s not right,
but people are thirsty
they need their beer
Awoah, what happened
in the summertime?
People drinking something
stronger than wine
Brewing,
tasting
and dancing
like peasants
in the summertime
Feels like something’s not right
Awoah, what happened
in the summertime?
People drinking something
stronger than wine
What do I do?
Do I make a new batch?
Send this one out?
People are quite thirsty,
need that beer
Hey, hey you,
you must be the new artist in town.
Artist just like me,
the artist of the liquids anyways
What do you say
we make a toast
to the arts, the muses,
the holy ghosts and the whatnot
Why don’t you sit down and
take a sip of this murky brew with me
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4. |
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On March 4th, 2016 as an old Vilnius rat I was sniffing around the city. Artists as far back as Josephine Baker through to Miles Davis, Warhol, Hockney, Burroughs, Thunders, Nico, Nureyev to Basquiat, Haring and beyond—the list is endless—all spent chunks of their social lives in clubs so did I. As I entered the dance floor of a club, I realised that possibly I am not under the influence of only alcohol, someone dropped a 2cb pill in my drink. The bartender claimed she had seen nothing and I wasn’t phased. Everyone knows that 2cb is kinda psychedelic but works just like ecstasy. I was caught in a dance, slowly moving my arms and spinning my reality around while asking myself the same question: 'Is it real if it feels real?' - the question that refers to daydreaming and walking on the edge of sanity. I couldn't answer, I still can't, I fear the known, not the unknown.
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5. |
Short Manifesto
04:48
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text: Stanley Brouwn
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6. |
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And I’m not that person.
I don’t do things like that.
I can’t explain how
my body used to cope.
It was absolute rubbish.
I used to work one
hundred percent.
My body was like
That’s not gonna go.
My body physically tells me:
I’ve had enough.
Your body takes time.
There must be dangers ahead:
Putting razor blades into
the plastic boxes, tagging,
standing on the door.
You’re walking around,
keeping alert.
You see a lot of energy
drinks being consumed.
You get one train each.
You have to work your
socks off for eight hours.
You can feel yourself falling asleep.
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Art After Hours Vilnius, Lithuania
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