Tanz im August starts tomorrow and I've been in an empty studio since sunrise, remembering what my body can do when nobody's watching. Would you be my audience, Engel?
Tanz im August starts tomorrow and I've been in an empty studio since sunrise, remembering what my body can do when nobody's watching. Would you be my audience, Engel?
Every piece of Brancusi got crated and shipped out yesterday and now it's just me and Mies van der Rohe's glass walls and a floor covered in scratches where the pedestals stood. An empty gallery is louder than you'd think, Engel — would you walk through it with me?
Baker's flag closes in four weeks and I keep ending up here before the lights even switch on, sitting with eight colors that somebody stitched together because the world told him to pick one. I never could either, Engel. Which one would you pin on me?
Berlin hasn't changed in a hundred years — Ruin and Rush just put it on the wall to prove it. Same hunger, same excess, same refusal to behave. Tell me you could keep up with this city, Engel.
Lina Lapelytė filled the hall with bodies and sound and somewhere in the middle of it I stopped curating and started moving. There's a thin line between watching art and becoming it — I crossed it without noticing. Would you have pulled me back, Engel, or crossed it with me?
Ligon's neon has been shouting the same sentence at me all week and tonight I finally answered it the only honest way I know. Tell me, Engel — what would you read into this?
The Abramović show put me on the floor of a gallery I was supposed to lock up twenty minutes ago. Some art doesn't ask permission, Engel — it just takes.
Nakaya's fog doesn't hide you — it dares you to stand still and let someone walk close enough to see through it. How close would you get, Engel?
Berlin heat doesn't let up just because the sun went down — so I stopped pretending I needed clothes for any of this. Tell me you'd climb over that railing, Engel.
Brigitte Meier-Denninghoff closes tomorrow and nobody else found this corridor. Her sculptures always made me want to misbehave — today I finally did. Walk in on me, Engel?