1 E

 

I live in Australia and I was born in Sri Lanka. I’m almost obsessive about what happens to people after they die and just to find out what the spiritual world is because I think humans have been always looking for that – what happens after they die. Then they just form their culture, religious belief and politics around that, although they don’t talk about that in their day-to-day life. What’s always interesting is the need to talk about that - but we also try to avoid that, because something to do with religion is not necessarily discussed. At the same time I’m very passionate about social justice, equality and world issues, about religion becoming an obstacle of that. So, that’s probably me. I have this kind of contradiction or view about fate and politics, I guess.

 

2 E

 

Pronoun used by a speaker to refer to himself or herself refers to a person who:

 

(1) lives in an island country on a continent in the southern hemisphere, in the southwestern Pacific Ocean

 

(2) was born in an island country off the southeastern coast of India.

 

(3) is almost in the state of being obsessed with:

 

a) what happens to human beings in general or considered collectively after they die

b) becoming aware of what the world inhabited by spirits is

 

(4) thinks that the human beings, especially persons as distinguished from an animal or (in science fiction) an alien, have always been looking for that what happens after they die. (4b) Then they form:

 

a) their arts and other manifestations of human intellectual achievement regarded collectively,

b) the belief in a supernatural power that controls human destiny

c) the activities associated with the governance of a country or other area, especially the debate or conflict among individuals or parties having or hoping to achieve power around that.

They don’t talk about (3a) and (3b) in their day-to-day condition that distinguishes animals and plants from inorganic matter, including the capacity for growth, reproduction, functional activity, and continual change preceding death.

 

(5) always finds  the circumstances in which something is necessary, or that require some course of action to talk about that interesting

 

(6) thinks that human beings try to avoid discussion about (3), because something to do with the belief in and worship of a superhuman controlling power is not necessarily discussed.

(7) is very passionate about:

 

a) the social quality of being fair and reasonable, the state of being equal, especially in status, rights, and opportunities

b) the world issues about the belief in and worship of a superhuman controlling power becoming a thing that blocks one’s way or hinders progress of that.

 

(8) indicates that (1), (2), (3), (4), (5), (6) and (7) is the person himself or herself.

 

(9) has:

 

a) the kind of combination of statements, ideas, or features of a situation that are opposed to one another or

b) the ability to see something from a particular place about esp. (3a) and (4c).

 

(10) guess.

Jetzt habe ich vergessen, wo ich war. Soll das vergessen werden, nein, warte mal, es war eine detaillierte Beschreibung von der Situation, der Lage des rein physischen Ondrej in diesem Raum, diesem Haus, dieser Stadt, diesem Staat, Kontinent, usw. Was sagt mir jene Beschreibung meiner selbst – vielleicht überhaupt nichts, wie ich befürchte. Die Koordinaten machen einen nicht klüger, aber vielleicht ist es dann doch klar, dass der Leib eine Grenze überschritten habe, sich bewegte, Bewegung ist Story. Wie war die Geschichte? Was ist alles in einem Auszug aus jener Geschichte inhärent da? Die ganze Vorgeschichte auch? Als Voraussetzung? Als ein Vektor dieser Reise? Wäret ihr nicht gekommen, hätte ich nicht versucht, einen wenigstens kleinen Kontakt herzustellen, hätte die Sprache nicht verändert; es gäbe nur einen egozentrischen Monolog. Aber ihr seid nicht mehr hier, ich bin wieder ganz allein da; hier sitze ich und schreibe. Der Dialog, oder besser gesagt, ein Dialogversuch, ist aus. Der Monolog wird fortgesetzt. Aber es wird kein Theater gespielt. Ich habe Hunger, aber keinen großen. Adieu!] Dialogue check one two one two, nothing’s happening and the tape runs on. It is now recording silence. Ondřej in a room on the third floor of a building opposite the theater where a certain genuine dialogue is, or at least should be, going on. Where words formulated into wholes, perspectives and opinions should be planted into minds and the thinking of others, a conflict, a solution, consensus or disagreement, all just words that should transcend into narratives that aren’t important here and now, which are just assumptions for hearing, understanding, comprehension and transmission. Viral communication, viral verbal activity – do you know any more advanced vocab? Stop, cut, I’ve immersed myself in a whistling noise that originates somewhere between the earplug and an inner auditory organ. What is it? When Cage attempted to find a place where he could hear absolute silence, he was apparently disappointed that he heard a weak murmur (or something like that) and the technicians in the studio that held the isolated room explained to him that he was hearing his own blood. My blood whistles.

It’s impossible not to talk. Some woman addressed me now. I typed out for her what this is all about, I explained it to her, although I don’t really know if she wanted to ask about that exactly. I expect that when she had been examining me so thoroughly before, she must have found it strange. As I was typing out the last sentence of my reply to her assumed question, she left. Maybe she wanted to ask something completely different – what time it is, if I have a light, if I’d lend her some money or if I’d marry her (I don’t suppose that really, I wasn’t looking at her, but from my peripheral vision I can postulate it was a curious woman in her fifties). It’s a quarter past three in the afternoon, more and more people are moving about and it’s starting to seem to me more and more like some sort of porn. The artist on the pedestal writes and others look at him as if at a display of some sort of artsiness.

COLOPHON

 

Ondřej Buddeus — A me

 

Is part of Ondřej Buddeus‘s participation in the Adaptation.

 

“But the need to adapt, uncoordinatedly, individualistically, without any authority, leader and order, to changes we initiate ourselves. Adaptation signifies now (asynchronously) and here (various places) an affinity with Utopia, which remains a non-place. Adaptation to conditions of reality which the collective dialectic of individuals without leader and order themselves create.“

 

Babi Badalov, Hafiz, Lia Perjovschi, Loulou Chérinet, Ondřej Buddeus, Ruti Sela, Shady Elnoshokaty, Vít Havránek, Xu Tan, Zbyněk Baladrán.

 

 

Curatorial Consultant Visual Arts:

Anne Faucheret

 

Translation: © Tereza Novická, 2013.

Graphic design: www.mutanta.com

 

We would like to thank all participants of the festival who took part in the project.

 

We would also like to thank

the following individuals:

Hana Buddeus, Věra Krejčová,

Antonín Mareš

 

Published by Steirischer Herbst Festival

GMBH Graz 2012 in collaboration with

tranzit.cz

 

 

© Ondřej Buddeus, 2013

ISBN: 978-80-87259-18-4

 

steirischer herbst festival gmbh

Sackstraße 17 / 8010 Graz / Austria

 

Supporters:

Land Steiermark Kultur

Stadt Graz Kultur

Bundesministerium für Unterricht,

Kunst und Kultur

Programm Kultur 2007-2013 der

Europäischen Gemeinschaft

Graz Tourismus

 

Sponsors:

Legero / con-tempus.eu

Steiermärkische Sparkasse

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