Simultane Nicholas

 pour le 6 décembre une lecture simultane:

En guise de contribution à la longue lignée de présentations sur Saint-Nicolas du SNC, nous proposons une lecture simultanée de divers ouvrages liés à Saint-Nicolas plutôt qu'une exposition.

Il s'agit d'une action performative distribuée qui peut se dérouler sur place dans les salles de Bukta Paktop, ou dans un autre lieu de votre choix... le seul élément fédérateur est le temps :

4h44 l'après-midi du 6 décembre 2023

en utilisant n'importe quel livre sur Saint Nicolas, qui peut être un ouvrage scientifique, historique, analytique ou simplement un livre d'histoires pour enfants dans lequel apparaît Saint Nicolas.

Le choix t'appartient.

Si vous le souhaitez, du matériel documentaire peut être envoyé à (lien buktamail) pour être placé sur notre site Internet.

As a contribution to the SNC's long line of Saint Nicholas presentations, we propose a simultaneous reading from various works related to Saint Nicholas. Rather than an exhibition, this is a distributed performative action that can take place at Bukta Paktop, or at another location of your choice... the only unifying element is the time:

being this 4:44 am on the afternoon of December 6, 2023

using any book about Saint Nicholas, - it can be a scientific, historical, analytical work or simply a children's story book in which Saint Nicholas appears.

The choice is yours. If desired, documentary material can be sent to (buktamail link) to be placed on our website.

 

Als Beitrag zur langen Reihe von St.-Nikolaus-Präsentationen des SNC schlagen wir eine gleichzeitige Lesung aus verschiedenen Werken vor, die sich auf den Heiligen Nikolaus beziehen. Dieses Jahr also keine Ausstellung, sondern eine umverteilte performative Aktion, die entweder vor Ort im Bukta Paktop oder an einem anderen Ort Ihrer Wahl stattfinden kann ... das einzige verbindende Element ist die Zeit:

das sei denn 4:44 Uhr am Nachmittag des 6. Dezember 2023

Verwenden Sie ein beliebiges Buch über den Heiligen Nikolaus, das ein wissenschaftliches, historisches, analytisches Werk oder einfach ein Kinderbuch sein kann, in dem der Heilige Nikolaus vorkommt. Eigne Entscheidung. Auf Wunsch kann Dokumentationsmaterial an (Buktamail-Link) gesendet werden, um es auf unserer Website zu veröffentlichen.

SNC saint nicholas chapter, petit hommage archiviste

http://verbandenlambrecht.blogspot.com/p/saint-nicholas-chapter.html

from St Nicholas to Three Magi, some intervention, from there on in it became a painting project - seen as how the meetings never aquired a quorum to actually proceede with the various propositions for continuation...

(more on the website, but at the moment defunct! - will augment as needed)

Interesting encounter with polymorph E Fabre

 

Fascinating encounter with the gallery-owner, collector and editor Eric Fabre – it was an agreeable saunter through the memory-garden of his early years in Paris... or a bit of a zig-zag, since he had studied there but only opened his space in the mid seventies... so different insights and references that painted an interesting picture of the in-between times... Neither -nor, either or... The sixties bubble had somewhat burst, imagination had left the barricades and the first major oil crisis dampened down the economy... the mid seventies were a mix of different tendencies and still it seemed anything was possible.

 

I must have walked by the his Gallery in the later 70's, when I first reconnoitred Paris, but was more intent on the classic venues at that time – only vaguely interested in current trends... Though subcutaneously I was absorbing all sorts of influences, to be sure... When Eric Fabre presented a sketch of the area from the time he had his gallery it did seem strangely familiar... Names and places bygone and replaced... the rue de Seine always seems to have a combination of recognition and novelty every time I walk down it... Anyway, we were taken back down to a time combining the 70's with precursor-elements of his student years, the backdrop of the Bohème from which Lettrism emerged between fragments of surrealism and dada – backtracking somewhat but none the less following a reasonable digression, seeing as how he too, became aware of the Lettrists by backtracking from the then all-pervasive cinema of Goddard and Guy Debord's Situationism... which is also something I can relate to, having the feeling of going backwards rather than forwards in my investigations... realising only belatedly how much influence is absorbed without really knowing where it comes from... (creating a false sense of originality, which I guess the psyche needs to feed it's ego... do I hear Ben talking?) 

 

 

Anyway, hop-skipping along between side-walks, we were treated to a fascinating web of references that slowly constructed an image of the times... The 'Bohème' as a grouping of 'artists without works' – avoiding commercial appropriation on the one hand, but thereby keeping below the radar of many an interested public – Big Name culture creating a less-than-optimal environment for the wonderful hotbed of ideas, often only flashing up in short bursts here or there... (I had to think of Filliou's 'genie'...) Of course there are those that can manage both – a career in the commercial gallery circuit as well as the alternative spaces, taking care not to mix too much, but blocking access to more unfortunate talents.. Artist run spaces have a tricky balance to play.

(part 2 soon)

 

 

conclusive evidence lacking

 (after the Grand Hornu excursion (see main site) we consider:

Second part (consideration)

General At this juncture we have had a few indications of the whereabouts of the bukta-elements... And yes, quite a mixed bag... Whereas in the olden days the regions and traditions were delineated and defined, travel was an adventure in itself... Nowadays the cultural mix has become so far blended that it no longer matters whether one of our numbers is sitting in a yurt hidden away in a Belgian forest or in a furnished apartment in Ulan-Bator... His sneakers will still be as worn down as if he had traveled the silk road twice over... On the other hand inveterate travelers have this year stayed put... Due to unforeseen circumstances, but none the less... 

 

Navigating by a map of the city's underground, I couldn't help laying beside an older map of the same city, from a time when it's inhabitants used horse-drawn transportation above ground... Some areas and names are recognizable, but on the whole a different language altogether...  

 

Another made the effort to scale the alpine heights in Switzerland in order to consider the impression left by the buttocks of Gargantua, as one of the many places he and sometimes also his son Pantagruel had visited in an unknown timescale... Speaking of which... The relativity of the timescale when applied to the maps, the mapping and the psychocartographic interpretations led me to consider a map drawn by the adolescent A.W. as a flight of fancy, but realized when comparing with contemporary satellite imagery that he was well on the mark.... He might be forgiven in pinpointing the wreck of the mayflower as a youthful flight of gullible fancy... Quite sure the local tourist industry upheld the myth for as long as possible... So how much of this mapping is real or even relevant? Is there any way the lines might converge? Can a visit to a backwater lake just behind the shoreline in the south of France (lac de Hourtin or étang de Lacanau near Bordeaux in fact) feed into a hidden river of the imagination which has no specific geographic presence aside from it being a possible tributary of the Styx... Can this occult stream share passage with clear mountain rivers and sedimentary gloom in the delta of a sluggish industrial watercourse heading out to poison the sea... I myself have been investigating the heartland of the industrial revolution, which after years of blackening coal fires and hard labour destitution has become a backward nature reserve amid the depressed economics of a former boomtown... Remnants flowering with garlands of creepers, giving way to new enterprise and yes, dare I say culture... In Between the forgotten generation a regeneration of sorts... Perhaps a good image to keep in mind when surveying the past, present and future of this cooperative effort we launched ten years ago. ( so much for a possible bukta-text ..part two of la belle borinageuse, Grand Hornu... And step up to vincent van G,s haunted houses...) 

 

Général

À ce stade, nous avons eu quelques indications sur la localisation des éléments-bukta... Et oui, un sac assez mélangé... Alors qu'autrefois les régions et les traditions étaient délimitées et définies, le voyage était une aventure en soi ... Aujourd'hui, le brassage culturel s'est tellement mélangé qu'il n'importe plus que l'un de nous soit assis dans une yourte cachée dans une forêt belge ou dans un appartement meublé à Oulan-Bator... Ses baskets seront toujours aussi usé que s'il avait parcouru deux fois la route de la soie... En revanche, les voyageurs invétérés sont restés sur place cette année... En raison d'imprévus, mais néanmoins... Naviguer par un plan des souterrains de la ville , je n'ai pas pu m'empêcher de poser à côté d'une carte plus ancienne de la même ville, d'une époque où ses habitants utilisaient des transports hippomobiles aériens... Certaines zones et certains noms sont reconnaissables, mais dans l'ensemble une langue tout à fait différente...

Un autre a fait l'effort d'escalader les hauteurs alpines en Suisse pour considérer l'empreinte laissée par les fesses de Gargantua, comme l'un des nombreux endroits que lui et parfois aussi son fils Pantagruel avaient visités dans une échelle de temps inconnue... En parlant de ça. .. La relativité de l'échelle de temps appliquée aux cartes, la cartographie et les interprétations psychocartographiques m'ont amené à considérer une carte dessinée par l'adolescent A.W. comme un vol de fantaisie, mais je suis rendu compte en comparant avec l'imagerie satellite contemporaine qu'il était bien sur la marque.... Il pourrait être pardonné en identifiant l'épave du Mayflower comme un vol de fantaisie juvénile... l'industrie du tourisme a entretenu le mythe le plus longtemps possible...

Alors, quelle part de cette cartographie est réelle ou même pertinente ? Est-il possible que les lignes convergent? Une visite à un lac de remous juste derrière le rivage dans le sud de la France (lac de Hourtin ou étang de Lacanau près de Bordeaux en fait) peut-elle alimenter une rivière cachée de l'imagination qui n'a pas de présence géographique spécifique en dehors d'être un affluent possible du Styx... Ce fleuve occulte peut-il partager son passage avec les rivières limpides des montagnes et les ténèbres sédimentaires dans le delta d'un cours d'eau industriel paresseux partant empoisonner la mer...

J'ai moi-même enquêté sur le cœur de la révolution industrielle, qui après des années d'incendies de charbon noircis et de misère de travail acharné est devenue une réserve naturelle arriérée au milieu de l'économie déprimée d'une ancienne ville en plein essor... Des vestiges fleuris de guirlandes de plantes grimpantes, laissant place à nouvelle entreprise et oui, oserais-je dire la culture... Entre la génération oubliée, une sorte de régénération... Peut-être une bonne image à garder en tête lorsque l'on examine le passé, le présent et l'avenir de cette coopération que nous avons lancée il y a dix ans.

Des hippomobiles aériens me semble des choses intéressantes...

First excursion tranfrontalière Donde Va

 

Grande Fête en Mineur

La première sortie en région transfrontalière a été écourtée en raison de problèmes techniques (notre relais de Jeumont était indisponible) et nous n'avions pas à bord le matériel feuillu que nous comptions redistribuer en forêt... (il était une fois ce la zone dont nous parlons était densément boisée) et nous nous sommes vite rendu compte de l'autre côté de la frontière qu'il n'y avait absolument aucun intérêt à faire la fête ou à se régaler - en fait, c'était un calme mortel...

L'une des raisons pourrait être que tous les feux d'artifice avaient été utilisés lors des émeutes de la semaine précédente, ainsi que la répression qui a suivi, et juste une inquiétude générale quant à la prémisse d'origine, à savoir la liberté, l'égalité et la fraternité... qui ont tous pris un coup dans les dernières décennies... Ainsi, dans un nord de la France très calme, nous avons été réduits à quelques visites fortuites et à une sorte de pique-nique autodidacte sur un banc publique surplombant l'Escaut à Valenciennes, en écoutant le soundcheck d'un festival de parking à venir ce soir-là. .. nous n'avons pas traîné.

(partial translation)

First outing in the trans-border region was kept short due to technical problems (our relay station in Jeumont was unavailable) and we did not have on board the leafy material we intended to redistribute in the forest... (once upon a time this area we speak of was densely forested) and we soon realized on the other side of the border that there was absolutely no interest in party nor feast – in fact it was quite deadly quiet...

One reason might be because all the fireworks had been used up in the riots the week before, along with the following clampdown, and just general misgiving about the original premise, being liberty, equality and fraternity... all of which have taken a battering in the last decades...

So, in a very quiet northern France, we were reduced to some incidental sightseeing and a sort of self-made picknick on a perk bench overlooking the Scheldt river at Valenciennes, listening to the soundcheck of a parking-lot festival to come that evening... we didn't hang around. 

 

In fact it was quite fitting as first attempt to define the region known as the 'Borinage' – while some find that it denotes a specific region south of Mons, others consider any coal-mining area along the French-Belgian border as being such... in this first investigation we skirt this border of the original (minimal) interpretation, while knowing that it does extend further... let us say it fails to define itself... here we have to think of Vincent Van Gogh, who's attempt to aid the disaffected mineworkers never really caught on... in fact he himself was a charity case... (visits to his two houses now museums are for another time)

Lack of animation, drive, joie-de-vivre is part and parcel of the region, the experience, the tonality as it were: it would be unfitting to claim otherwise – the attempts by municipalities to bring cheer into the neighborhood are usually quite sorry affairs, the attempts by artists to convey a sort of philosophical beauty in the imagery, take for instance black & white photography, - also miss the mark more often than not... harboring a nostalgia of the actual work in the mines, as if there was something noble about it – rather than just being demoralizing hard graft.

Nowadays it is no longer a soot-black region, but multi-colourd plastic rubbish-like concoctions that might as well go straight to the bin. Originally quaint housing being torn down for 'modern' accommodation which is even more depressing than the original from the industrial revolution... the only thing to do is to shop; buy oodles of chap tat no-one needs just to get through the day. Add some flowerpots and a sig(h)n that denotes a 'village fleuri' and you got it in a nutshell.

So, in keeping with the subtitle “Donde VA” we proceeded from Valenciennes to Anvers, picking up a bag full of roadmaps at Péruwelz right on the border... in preparation of the first installment of the central maproom, with an added twist (suitcase full of archive) which we will divulge later.

non dance

 not to go ahead - or back or sway / left right left right and back again... no!

 

BuktaCinesession Laetitia Yalon  (17/5/2023)

The archival session was sparsely visited, due mainly to a glitch in Bukta's mailing system but also the short notice – quite a few people messaged that they couldn't come – so also our fault for cutting it close... but it was a cold cosy affair (did not light the stove because of good weather, but still chilly) – and a handful of people held out for the full marathon:

The uncut interview sessions that Inbal did with Laetitia at her home in Saint Gilles around 2016, summertime... They are static head & shoulders, sometime close-up, but always fascinating – Laetitia's face always very expressive, her gestures and mannerisms all to familiar and her somewhat mischievous eyes adding spice to the stories she told of her childhood, her mother, the adventurous nomad-ism during the war, the care-free travels as a young woman getting into no end of trouble and situations, accompanied by her soul-brother companion Philippe and strings of well-known artistic protagonists she met along the way... 

 

A story in which one finds oneself falling into one incredulity after the other, with ups and downs and all-arounds so that one does not need any additional images or references – in fact, it is all so dense one has to keep a notepad on one's knee to follow... sometimes jumping, but keeping on the chronological path thanks to the occasional comment by Inbal, but on the whole Laetitia needs no prompting – in fact here thoughtful silences are just as intriguing as her teetering tales...

 

well-deserver pic-nic pitstop

The marathon continued the whole afternoon, with short picnic breaks, and the addition and subtraction of various viewers... as mentioned only a few saw the whole series – even daughters Natalie and Inbal could not stay til the end, and early viewers had to leave while later comers had to jump in mid-story, but I think that everyone got a good glimpse of Laetitia's life a times. I also had the feeling that she was more specific, serious and detailed than when being interviewed by outsiders... and certainly towards the end, when talking about her son Nimrud, the heavy trials of his fate weighing quite obviously – a kind of intimacy she didn't much allow herself or others... which makes these sessions so valuable: they are real, unpretentious, unflattering, non-flippant and down to earth... while everyone who knew Laetitia knows her more flamboyant and care-free side, this is a rare opportunity to see her really – or as close as one can on film – which was a privilege not often accorded in her lifetime...

Quite a session – the other fragments prepared did not have much of a chance, (delegation form Ostend came up empty) but we did after all, to lighten the atmosphere a bit, show the film 'Mariage d L'art et Entreprise' form 'Lille 2004' a live-installation-performance-film-piece by Straatman, Bendy Glue (who were both present during the afternoon) In with Laetitia, Isi, Inbal and a slew of friends participated in an PTTL-production which is not so easy to find any more – so a nice blast from the past!

 

Bukta's own Ber reading Baudelaire

As for the further steps – we were able to get some extra information of film and video pieces in which Laetitia figures, so along with what we already had, a list is starting to emerge, and can be added on to as we go along. As for the interview itself – everyone agreed that it was not really possible to cut anywhere, aside from some clean-up at beginning and end of tape... and the separation of the outside takes as separate film – so most probably we will make the sections available on the LY-archive site (via vimeo) in the near future... and perhaps also still a more prepared screening – this was more of an impromptu working session... but a very nice one (and fruitful) at that!

 

Daisyfeast

 

(what a) Daisyfeast

It was a happy coincidence that launched our somewhat belated season- Bukta-member Jérôme just flew in from Canada for the screening of Leo Liotards film 'C'est la fête' – his jet-lag somewhat reproducing the inebriated experiments of youth displayed on the screen: a warm and sympathetic look-back to the innocence of younger years, when the reasons were not yet so defined, the positions not so vehemently held, the ludicrous as guiding light – bateau ivre, let's say, romantic and down to earth, up close, personal and somewhere in the distant past.

 

It reminded me of the Beat-strip “Pull my Daisy” (with Kerouac, also partially Canadian) by Robert Frank, whom I had the privilege to meet as a student of his partner June Leaf back in Nova Scotia – He sometimes came down from their hideaway in Cape Breton Island to give a presentation at our school.. so this coincidence set me back thinking of my own youthful antics and how, if at all, to do something with the material of those heady days...

In a way I was quite jealous to see this strip of film – prize-winning I might add, and deservedly so! I had been somewhat smitten by film-making back in the day and was able to do a few experimental shorts thanks to the Atlantic Filmmakers Co-op, but after failing to secure further studies in that direction, got blown off course and into other realms – dabbling in video to be sure, but no longer with the verve I once had... the verve that I was reminded of here.

The unabashed simplicity and candid disregard of this work for conventions – originally, the recent cutting all the more professional - still refreshing after all these years (for me more than that, but still recognizable, being not yet so old in the nineties as to being unable to relate – the youthful protagonists still enjoying wine & spirits and lots of smoke rather than the synthetic chemical substances that pass as entertainment nowadays – and as I've already said, more related to the beat forefathers than the hyped up hedonism of today... well, a little bit though – '...up you go, little smoke!' wonderful film!

(and an inspiration to re-visit the archives and finally do something with the material that has been waiting patiently for all theses years!)