I have a studio in Berlin -- let me cue on here -- which is down there in this snow, just last weekend. In the studio we do a lot of experiments. I would consider the studio more like a laboratory. I have occasional meetings with scientists. And I have an academy, a part of the University of Fine Arts in Berlin. We have an annual gathering of people, and that is called Life in Space. Life in Space is really not necessarily about how we do things, but why we do things.
Imam studio u Berlinu - dozolite mi šlagvort - koji je tamo dole u snegu, ovo je od prošlog vikenda. U studiju izvodimo puno eksperimenata. Smatram ga više kao laboratoriju. Povremeno se sastajem s naučnicima. Imam akademiju, kao deo Univerziteta lepih umetnosti u Berlinu. Imamo godišnje sastanke, koji se zovu "Život u prostoru". "Život u prostoru" zaista nije obavezno o tome kako nešto radimo, nego zašto to radimo.
Do you mind looking, with me, at that little cross in the center there? So just keep looking. Don't mind me. So you will have a yellow circle, and we will do an after-image experiment. When the circle goes away you will have another color, the complementary color. I am saying something. And your eyes and your brain are saying something back. This whole idea of sharing, the idea of constituting reality by overlapping what I say and what you say -- think of a movie.
Hoćete li sa mnom pogledati taj krstić u centru? Samo gledajte. Ne obraćajte pažnju na mene. Imaćete žuti krug i nakon slike ćemo uraditi eksperiment. Kada krug nestane imaćete još jednu, komplementarnu boju. Nešto vam govorim. A vaše oči i mozak odgovaraju. Cela ova ideja o deljenju, o predstavljanju stvarnosti preklapanjem onoga što ja govorim i što vi govorite - razmislite o filmu.
Since two years now, with some stipends from the science ministry in Berlin, I've been working on these films where we produce the film together. I don't necessarily think the film is so interesting. Obviously this is not interesting at all in the sense of the narrative. But nevertheless, what the potential is -- and just keep looking there -- what the potential is, obviously, is to kind of move the border of who is the author, and who is the receiver. Who is the consumer, if you want, and who has responsibility for what one sees? I think there is a socializing dimension in, kind of, moving that border. Who decides what reality is?
Već dve godine, uz pomoć nekih stipendija Ministarstva nauke iz Berlina, radim na ovim filmovima gde zajedno stvaramo film. Ne mislim da film obavezno mora da bude zanimljiv. Ovo očigledno nije ni najmanje zanimljivo što se tiče priče. Ali ipak, ono u čemu je potencijal - i samo gledajte tamo - ono u čemu je potencijal, očigledno, je da na neki način pomeramo granicu toga ko je autor, a ko primalac poruke. Ko je potrošač, ako želite tako i ko je odgovoran za to šta neko vidi? Mislim da ima dimenzija socijalizacije u pomeranju te granice na neki način. Ko odlučuje šta je stvarnost?
This is the Tate Modern in London. The show was, in a sense, about that. It was about a space in which I put half a semi-circular yellow disk. I also put a mirror in the ceiling, and some fog, some haze. And my idea was to make the space tangible. With such a big space, the problem is obviously that there is a discrepancy between what your body can embrace, and what the space, in that sense, is. So here I had the hope that by inserting some natural elements, if you want -- some fog -- I could make the space tangible.
Ovo je Tejt Modern u Londonu. Na neki način, predstava je bila o tome. Bila je o prostoru u koji sam stavio polovinu polukružnog žutog diska. Takođe sam stavio ogledalo na plafon i malo magle, nešto izmaglice. Moja zamisao je bila da prostor načinim opipljivim. Problem sa tako velikim prostorom je da očigledno postoji neslaganje između toga šta vaše telo može da prihvati i šta je sam prostor, u tom smislu. Nadao sam se da ću ubacivanjem nekih prirodnih elemenata, ako želite tako - maglom - da učinim prostor opipljivim.
And what happens is that people, they start to see themselves in this space. So look at this. Look at the girl. Of course they have to look through a bloody camera in a museum. Right? That's how museums are working today. But look at her face there, as she's checking out, looking at herself in the mirror. "Oh! That was my foot there!" She wasn't really sure whether she was seeing herself or not. And in that whole idea, how do we configure the relationship between our body and the space? How do we reconfigure it? How do we know that being in a space makes a difference?
Dešava se to da ljudi počinju da vide sami sebe u prostoru. Pogledajte ovo. Pogledajte devojku. Naravno da moraju da gledaju kroz prokletu kameru u muzeju. Zar ne? Tako danas funkcionišu muzeji. Ali pogledajte joj lice tamo, dok zagleda sebe u ogledalu. "O, to je bilo moje stopalo!" Nije bila sigurna da li gleda u sebe ili ne. U toj celoj zamisli, kako oblikujemo povezanost između našeg tela i prostora? Kako ga preoblikujemo? Kako znamo da postojanje u prostoru čini razliku?
Do you see when I said in the beginning, it's about why, rather than how? The why meant really, "What consequences does it have when I take a step?" "What does it matter?" "Does it matter if I am in the world or not?" "And does it matter whether the kind of actions I take filter into a sense of responsibility?" Is art about that? I would say yes. It is obviously about not just about decorating the world, and making it look even better, or even worse, if you ask me.
Vidite li ono što sam rekao u početku, da je bitno zašto, a ne kako? To zašto zapravo znači: "Koje posledice ima to kada napravim korak?" "Kakve to ima veze?" "Da li je bitno da li sam na svetu ili ne?" "I da li je bitno da li se radnje koje poduzimam filtriraju u osećaj odgovornosti? Da li je umetnost o tome? Rekao bih da da. Očigledno je ne samo o ukrašavanju i ulepšavanju sveta ili pogoršavanju, ako mene pitate.
It's obviously also about taking responsibility, like I did here when throwing some green dye in the river in L.A., Stockholm, Norway and Tokyo, among other places. The green dye is not environmentally dangerous, but it obviously looks really rather frightening. And it's on the other side also, I think, quite beautiful, as it somehow shows the turbulence in these kind of downtown areas, in these different places of the world.
Takođe se radi o preuzimanju odgovornosti, kao što sam učinio ovde kada sam bacao zelenu boju u reke u Los Anđelesu, Štokholmu, Norveškoj, Tokiju, između ostalog. Zelena boja nije opasna po okolinu, ali je očigledno da izgleda zaista zastrašujuće. Sa druge strane mislim da je takođe veoma lepa jer pokazuje turbulentnost ovih gradskih sredina, u različitim delovima sveta.
The "Green river," as a kind of activist idea, not a part of an exhibition, it was really about showing people, in this city, as they walk by, that space has dimensions. A space has time. And the water flows through the city with time. The water has an ability to make the city negotiable, tangible. Negotiable meaning that it makes a difference whether you do something or not. It makes a difference whether you say, "I'm a part of this city. And if I vote it makes a difference. If I take a stand, it makes a difference."
"Zelena reka", kao deo aktivističke ideje, a ne kao deo izložbe zapravo smo pokazivali ljudima u ovom gradu, dok prolaze da prostor ima dimenzije. Prostor ima vreme. I voda vremenom protiče kroz grad. Voda ima mogućnost da grad napravi savladivim, opipljivim. Savladivim, u smislu da ima razlike ako nešto učinite ili ne. Pravi razliku da li kažete: "Deo sam ovog grada. I ako glasam napraviću razliku. Ako se zauzmem za nešto, napraviću razliku."
This whole idea of a city not being a picture is, I think, something that art, in a sense, always was working with. The idea that art can actually evaluate the relationship between what it means to be in a picture, and what it means to be in a space. What is the difference? The difference between thinking and doing. So these are different experiments with that. I won't go into them. Iceland, lower right corner, my favorite place.
Ova cela ideja da grad nije slika, mislim da je to nešto sa čime je umetnost na neki način uvek radila. Ideja da umetnost zapravo može da proceni vezu između toga šta znači biti u slici i šta znači biti u prostoru. U čemu je razlika? Razlika između mišljenja i akcije. To su različiti eksperimenti sa time i neću zalaziti dublje u to. Island je, u donjem desnom uglu, moje omiljeno mesto.
These kinds of experiments, they filter into architectural models. These are ongoing experiments. One is an experiment I did for BMW, an attempt to make a car. It's made out of ice. A crystalline stackable principle in the center on the top, which I am trying to turn into a concert hall in Iceland. A sort of a run track, or a walk track, on the top of a museum in Denmark, which is made of colored glass, going all around. So the movement with your legs will change the color of your horizon. And two summers ago at the Hyde Park in London, with the Serpentine Gallery: a kind of a temporal pavilion where moving was the only way you could see the pavilion. This summer, in New York: there is one thing about falling water which is very much about the time it takes for water to fall. It's quite simple and fundamental.
Ovakvi eksperimenti filtriraju se u arhitektonske modele. Ovo su eksperimenti u toku. Jedan od njih je eksperiment koji sam radio za BMW, u pokušaju da napravim automobil. Sačinjen je od leda. Princip kristalne hrpe u sredini na vrhu, koju pokušavam da pretvorim u koncertnu dvoranu u Islandu. Nešto poput staze za trčanje ili hodanje na vrhu muzeja u Danskoj, koja je u celosti napravljena od obojenog stakla. Pokret vaših stopala će promeniti boju vašeg horizonta. Pre dva leta u Hajd parku u Londonu, sa Serpentin galerijom: neka vrsta vremenskog paviljona gde je kretanje bio jedini način da se paviljon vidi. Ovog leta u Njujorku: postoji nešto u vezi sa vodom koja pada i vremenom koje je za to potrebno. Jednostavno je i bitno.
I've walked a lot in the mountains in Iceland. And as you come to a new valley, as you come to a new landscape, you have a certain view. If you stand still, the landscape doesn't necessarily tell you how big it is. It doesn't really tell you what you're looking at. The moment you start to move, the mountain starts to move. The big mountains far away, they move less. The small mountains in the foreground, they move more. And if you stop again, you wonder, "Is that a one-hour valley? Or is that a three-hour hike, or is that a whole day I'm looking at?"
Dosta sam hodao po planinama Islanda. I dok prilazite novoj dolini, kako dolazite u novi pejzaž, imate određenu perspektivu. Ako mirno stojite, pejzaž vam neće obavezno reći koliki je. Ne kaže vam u šta zapravo gledate. Kad počnete da se krećete, planina počne da se kreće. Velike planine u daljini se kreću manje. Male planine u prvom planu se kreću više. I ako opet zastanete, zapitate se: "Da li je to dolina od jednog sata? Ili je to pešačenje od tri sata ili gledam u ceo dan?"
If you have a waterfall in there, right out there at the horizon; you look at the waterfall and you go, "Oh, the water is falling really slowly." And you go, "My god it's really far away and it's a giant waterfall." If a waterfall is falling faster, it's a smaller waterfall which is closer by -- because the speed of falling water is pretty constant everywhere. And your body somehow knows that. So this means a waterfall is a way of measuring space.
Ako tu imate vodopad, baš tu na horizontu; posmatrate ga i kažete: "O, voda pada veoma sporo." I kažete: "Bože moj, zaista je daleko taj ogromni vodopad." Ako se vodopad kreće brže, to je manji vodopad koji je bliži - jer je brzina vode koja pada prilično konstantna svuda. I vaše telo nekako to zna. To znači da je vodopad način merenja prostora.
Of course being an iconic city like New York, that has had an interest in somehow playing around with the sense of space, you could say that New York wants to seem as big as possible. Adding a measurement to that is interesting: the falling water suddenly gives you a sense of, "Oh, Brooklyn is exactly this much -- the distance between Brooklyn and Manhattan, in this case the lower East River is this big."
Naravno, kultni grad poput Njujorka, koji je bio zainteresovan da se na neki način poigra sa osećajem prostora, može se reći da Njujork želi da izgleda što veći. Kada tome dodamo meru to postaje zanimljivo: voda koja pada odjednom vam daje osećaj sledećeg: "O, Bruklin je baš toliki - razdaljina između Bruklina i Menhetna, u ovom slučaju donji deo Ist Rivera je ovoliki."
So it was not just necessarily about putting nature into the cities. It was also about giving the city a sense of dimension. And why would we want to do that? Because I think it makes a difference whether you have a body that feels a part of a space, rather than having a body which is just in front of a picture. And "Ha-ha, there is a picture and here is I. And what does it matter?" Is there a sense of consequences?
Nije se nužno radilo samo o postavljanju prirode u gradove. Radilo se i o davanju osećaja dimenzije gradovima. Zašto bismo želeli to? Zato što mislim da postoji razlika između toga da imate telo koje se oseća kao deo prostora i tela koje je samo ispred neke slike. I: "Haha, tu je slika i tu sam ja. I kakve to ima veze?" Postoji li osećaj posledičnosti?
So if I have a sense of the space, if I feel that the space is tangible, if I feel there is time, if there is a dimension I could call time, I also feel that I can change the space. And suddenly it makes a difference in terms of making space accessible. One could say this is about community, collectivity. It's about being together.
Ako imam osećaj prostora, ako osećam da je prostor opipljiv, ako osećam da postoji vreme, ako postoji dimenzija koja se zove vreme, takođe osećam da mogu da promenim prostor. I odjednom postoji razlika što se tiče dostupnosti prostora. Moglo bi se reći da je ovo stvar zajednice, kolektivizma. Radi se o tome da smo zajedno.
How do we create public space? What does the word "public" mean today anyway? So, asked in that way, I think it raises great things about parliamentary ideas, democracy, public space, being together, being individual. How do we create an idea which is both tolerant to individuality, and also to collectivity, without polarizing the two into two different opposites? Of course the political agendas in the world has been very obsessed, polarizing the two against each other into different, very normative ideas.
Kako stvaramo javni prostor? Šta reč "javni" danas uopšte znači? Kada se pitanje tako postavi, mislim da otvara velike stvari poput parlamentarnih ideja, demokratije, javnog prostora, biti zajedno i biti pojedinac. Kako da stvorimo zamisao koja je tolerantna i na individualnost i na kolektivizam, a da ne polarišemo to dvoje u dve različite krajnosti? Naravno da su političke agende širom sveta opsednute time da suprotstave ova dva pojma u različite i normativne ideje.
I would claim that art and culture, and this is why art and culture are so incredibly interesting in the times we're living in now, have proven that one can create a kind of a space which is both sensitive to individuality and to collectivity. It's very much about this causality, consequences. It's very much about the way we link thinking and doing. So what is between thinking and doing? And right in-between thinking and doing, I would say, there is experience. And experience is not just a kind of entertainment in a non-casual way. Experience is about responsibility. Having an experience is taking part in the world. Taking part in the world is really about sharing responsibility. So art, in that sense, I think holds an incredible relevance in the world in which we're moving into, particularly right now. That's all I have. Thank you very much. (Applause)
Rekao bih da umetnost i kultura, zbog ovoga su umetnost i kultura tako neverovatno zanimljive u današnje vreme, dokazale da se može napraviti vrsta prostora koji je osetljiv i na individualnost i na kolektivnost. Velikim delom se radi o ovoj kauzalnosti, o posledicama. O načinu na koji povezujemo mišljenje i akciju. Šta se nalazi između mišljenja i akcije? Upravo tu između razmišljanja i akcije, rekao bih da se nalazi iskustvo. Iskustvo nije samo vid formalne zabave. Iskustvo ima veze s odgovornošću. Imati iskustvo znači učestvovati u svetu. Učestvovati u svetu je zapravo deljenje odgovornosti. Umetnost, u tom smislu ima veliku važnost u svetu prema kom se krećemo i to naročito sada. To je sve što imam. Puno vam hvala. (Aplauz)