Talking and listening. Tiny Spaces deep Connections, Day 11

A visit to freiLand, a self-managed cultural and community space spanning a large industrial area where once warplanes for the Nazi regime were produced and thousands of people worked in forced-labour camps. The Giraffe, a wooden sculpture and dynamic solar and wind-energy installation produces local renewable energy. I do a one hour radio interview with Erich Benesch. He has asked me to bring music, and I spent quite some time yesterday thinking about it. We talk about art and walking and activism and we don’t manage to listen to everything but this is the playlist I brought:

Pt. 9, Corrie van Binsbergen, from her solo guitar album Self Portrait in Pale Blue. A song she created while thinking of me walking.

Wild, Albert van Veenendaal, from the album The Eye in the Needle. I wrote the texts for this project about "How to be human in today's world". 

The Trees of Green-Wood, Caroline Shaw, from the album The Whale. A composer and musician who creates bridges between music, environmental awareness and deep listening. The song is a long list of trees.

Dawn Chorus, Cosmo Sheldrake, from the album Wake Up Calls. The English multi-instrumentalist and composer is known for his acoustic ecology and this album was composed entirely of bird calls from endangered species in the UK. 

Peripetatic, Alex Nowitz, from the album Spinors that came out on the label Evil Rabbit Records for which I do the photography. Peripatetic means “walking about” or “wandering” and relates to the ancient Greek philosopher Aristotle who taught while walking. Also: Alex is at home in Potsdam, something I didn’t know until I arrived.

Laurie Anderson, Walking and Falling, from the album Big Science. “You're walking. And you don't always realize it but you're always falling. With each step, you fall forward slightly. And then catch yourself from falling.” 

 

Impact. Tiny Spaces Deep Connections, Day 10

A tour through the neighbourhood with Petar. Around the corner is Europe’s largest film studio complex, Filmpark Babelsberg. And there is Peter Behren’s studio where Mies van der Rohe, Walter Gropius and Le Corbusier worked alongside each other before they became famous architects. But two big stones in public space have the biggest impact on me. One is from Hiroshima, the other from Nagasaki, transported here and placed in front of the building where the decision was made in WWII to use the first nuclear bombs.

 

What is real? Tiny Spaces deep Connections, Day 9

A meeting with Yuliia who works with Ukrainian teenagers and is also an artist. She gives me a question, something she often asked herself when she started a new life in Germany after leaving Ukraine behind during the war: Am I real? In the Oven House, Luis is testing a destillation setup with the goal of creating mocktails that taste just as good or even better than "real" cocktails.

Suits. Tiny Spaces Deep Connections, Day 8

Another three-piece suit! Sebastian who works in the wood workshop proudly shows me his Wandergeselle suit, worn by German and Central European wandering craftsmen.

 

First landing. Tiny Spaces Deep Connections, day 7

Landing, but not for long. The sourdough starter stays behind in my new home, a former construction trailer, or Bauwagen in German. It is tempting to stay after 6 days of intense movement but I am curious about the Berlin Britzenale, site specific work by 20 artists at an allotment garden association. On my way there, the bus has a 45 minute delay and when I use the time to drink some coffee I get into a conversation with two women who are sitting next to me, embroidering. One of them works on a modernised version of a traditional Palestinian flower motive, the other is using an Egyptian traditional application technique. I love this kind of soft activism.

There are many inspiring projects (you can find all the different works HERE) and I have some nice conversations with artists and visitors. I rest for a bit in Julia Kiehlmann’s “Horticultural Housing” in one of the three beds representing different stages within a shared cycle: a protected space for growth and contemplation untouched by human intervention; a space of transformation and labour where organic material such as cut grass is collected and dried; and a space of regeneration and pause, equipped with a hay attress that invites visitors to lie down and linger. 

(first photo by Natalia Irina Roman)

 

 

The icebreaker. Tiny Spaces Deep Connections, Day 6

Rovereto - München - Berlin - Potsdam

I go for a short morning walk and wish I had more time to go out into the mountains. Having had the opportunity to stay two nights in the same place and work with some of the materials I brought means I need a bit more time to pack than I did on other days. I wonder where Gabriele slept and if I will bump into him again —I did see him for a second time yesterday, after we said goodbye, standing at the entrance of the supermarket, not openly asking for money but being open to gifts of food or otherwise. No trace of him though and no trace of many people in general, too early for most to go to work and too early for cafes to serve customers. I put some sourdough starter in small jars to hand out on my way to the final stop, Potsdam, and feed the remaining starter. 

 My reserved seat in the train is one of a four-seater with a table in the middle. I install myself and put the jar on the table and immediately get into a conversation when a young man joins us—us  meaning the starter and I. He is on his way to Innsbruck, a city that was on my wishlist as well because there are some Smiths living there: people from the Schmiede netwerk I am part of myself (more info about Schmiede here). He is happy to take a little jar with him and when he gets off at the Innsbruck station I take my jars to the restaurant wagon. 
When I get back a family of three —a girl and her grandparents— have overtaken the space, not aware that one of the seats they are sitting in is “my” seat. They seem to be a bit uncomfortable at first, having a stranger join them but as always, the sourdough starter is the icebreaker. When it is time to feed it, the girl and her grandmother start wispering and I hear her explain what it is I am doing. I ask her if she makes bread herself and she proudly nodds her head and tells me about her father who used to be the village baker like his father before him. When I offer her a small jar she hesitates but her granddaughter has no doubts. I see her eyes twinkle and I am reminded once more of the approach to life encompassing an openness, curiosity and lightness that is the trademark of children and so often gets lost when growing up.  

The train arrives with a delay of over an hour in München but there is enough time to leave some seedbombs just outside the station. Next stop Berlin, the train is spacious and the restaurant wagon has proper tables and benches and a waiter who takes my order after I installed myself there to do some writing and embroidering. It is a warm day and my travel companion is hungry again, and when the train waiter takes his break we chat a bit about working in a train, his way and my way. Whenever we stop, I go out on the platform to leave my traces and when there is a longer stop and I aim for a little plant oasis inbetween the trails, the conductor tells me that on that exact spot, a little christmas tree lived for a while, growing bigger and bigger until it got in the way and then they removed it. “We put it outside the cantine for railway staff in the station” he says, “and it is still there, thriving.” I like his story and he tells me he likes my trailmaking and guerilla gardening action. I give him some seedbomds. “Maybe the christmas tree will like some company”, he says and smiles. 

At Berlin Hauptbahnhof I throw the cosmos daydream bombs at the edge of a building site just outside the main entrance. The S-Bahn brings me to Postdam Griebnitzsee where the station is filled with the sounds of swallows, the ceiling is covered in their nests and for a while I admire their amazing flying skills and cheerful presence.

 

Angels. Tiny Spaces Deep Connections, Day 5

Rovereto

The plan had been to work in the building of La Foresta that is situated in the train station of Rovereto and meet many people, but it turned out that the building couldn’t be entered for technical reasons and because of that, most people weren’t there. It is a challenge for them, because at the moment they can only organise activities outside, but it has also created extra opportunities to work in public space. I go to the community garden that is located next to a school, which makes it a great place to easily work there with school classes and teach the children about nature and gardening. 
Back at the bench outside La Foresta I talk to a few people who are involved, one of them an anthropology student with whom I happily discuss Tim Ingold, somebody I admire and met a few times, once during the Sideways walking festival and when he was lecturing in Weimar in the time I was studying there. He is a renowed anthropologist who researched and wrote about many subjects that matter deeply to me, one of them being the human act of creating lines and how f.e. musical notation, writing, walking, singing, weaving and artistic design are related.
In the afternoon there is a workshop about art and nature on a field in front of a church and since it is in Italian I mainly observe. Afterwards I meet Flora from the Forno Vagabonda, a mobile social oven that sometimes travels through villages on an electric cargo bicycle. We talk about sourdough and she tells me how she only feeds her sourdough starter rye breadcrusts. Again I wish I had more time to spend with all these lovely people here. There is so much to learn! I am honoured when she accepts a little jar of my starter.
On my way back home —Martina’s place— I meet Gabriele, a young homeless man and we talk for a while, which means he does the talking, in Italian only, and I listen, not understanding most of his words, but understanding most of what he is saying. I don’t think he often has people listening to him. He asks me if he can’t come with me and I am not sure if he is serious or not, anyway the answer is no. “Gabriele, like the angel” I say and he smiles. We hug and I leave.
In the evening I bake sourdough crackers for Martina. Another beautiful day but I am extremely tired. So many impressions, meetings, exchanges, thoughts, landscapes, so much movement. This slow journey is so much faster than any of my slow journeys have been. Still, most people would have taken a plane to get from Galicia to Potsdam. I am wondering how long it takes if you try to do it as efficient—time-wise—as possible.