Syndicate: EMIGRAPHIA - Border Momen

[Inke Arns <inke@berlin.snafu.de>]

[katarina from ljubljana writes: "if you wish to place the report i sent
you on the syndicate, please do so. i am in fact sending you a bit wider
text, with an intro that might put it in the context of the project. i am
about to make a web page which will constantly grow, and this will be its
first item. i will send you the address as soon as there is something on
it."  it is a description of an action that has taken place some 10-14 days
ago on the austrian border. it is the beginning of a multi-phase project
that will have its continuation as installation/performance in the
beginning of february in kapelica gallery in ljubljana. look out for more,
greetings, --inke]



Date: Tue, 04 Jan 2000 18:30:35 -0800
From: katarina pejovic <kata@mur.at>
Subject: Re: EMIGRAPHIA - Border Moment


Coming to the Sentilj/Spielfeld border crossing I was expecting Reni, Jogi,
Sol and perhaps Eva. That was already great, especially because Reni was
instrumental in making the contact with the Austrian authorities which made
the whole action possible in the first place. And I was happy to see Jogi,
Sol and Eva. I had my friends Nana, Valentina and John, Tanja and Borut,
Jurij and Mirko, travelling with me from Ljubljana. But then, there was a
bundle of surprises waiting at the caffee on the border: Cloed came from
Vienna with her boyfriend and - Cym was with them! I lost track of Cym's
whereabouts - Amsterdam, Hamburg, Vienna, Graz - and I could not dream that
she would really show up. However, this was not the biggest surprise of
all: a familiar slender figure, the golden hair, smiling round glasses...
it was Moni, who came all the way from Berlin. (no exclamation marks can
match my awe and schock) At the moment of our getting together, my action
somehow reached the peak of sense and fullness: there we were, friends
gathered, old loves shared, new people meeting, and the border didn't
matter that much anyway. My soul was spreading across all possible borders,
hugging the dear people that surrounded me. 

Of course, we went on with the action, everybody supporting and cheering.
Reni and I met with the Austrian officials, Mirko was filming, they agreed
to let me do the planting of the flags on each side of the road, but on two
conditions: that we don't film any other people that are in the procedure
of being searched at the border as well as the inside of the police booths. 

Everybody went to the Austrian side - except Reni, who was guarding me on
the crossing point - and I started the crossing. 

The day was beautiful, clear and sunny, but it was nearing its end and it
was getting real cold. Still, we were approaching that magic moment of
twilight and that gave a special touch. I had a backpack filled with flags,
28 of them, 14 black and 14 white. The white ones had the initials of my
friends, artists and intellectuals who were in Belgrade; the black ones had
the initials of those who left it. Additionally, there were two flags with
the inscriptions "TO" and "FROM".  
Nana, Valentina and Tanja found out immediately that there was a better
spot for planting flags: a row of red and white small plastic
container-shape things that were separating the two sides of the highway at
the crossing. I counted the containers. there were 28 of them...  

I crossed the border seven times, each time putting four flags into the
holes in the containers. The black, "Western" flags were facing the Eastern
direction of the road, the white "Eastern" ones were turned towards the
West. All the friendly bunch was helping, taking care of the growing row of
flags. Sol was asking me for each flag to explain whose intials were on it.
Tanja was jumping across the red-white-flagged border, like a merry rabbit.
Jurij and Borut were taking photos. 

The police was somewhat confused: they didn't mind that much my repeated
crossing, but they did mind putting stamps in the passport. I insisted on
having them, for the record, but also for the fact that they would never
miss a chance to put the stamp in a Yugoslav passport if one would cross in
a regular way, even at the cost of a new page in the passport, which is
considered as a great value for the owner of the passport - an empty page
means a place for a new visa, which means freedom of movement.  

As the row of flags was finished, it fell dark. I took the "TO" and "FROM"
flags and walked across the red-white containers, as gymnasts do on the
beam. Everybody was cheering and laughing although the cold was getting
into the bones. It was almost two hours that we were outside. 

Looking at the red-white line adorned with the flags - and it looked
beautiful - I wanted to leave them there. The gang started crossing the
border to no-man's-land where we were supposed to drink red wine and salute
the territory possessed by nobody, which would be the final act of the day.
But then, the police insisted that the flags should be removed. Shucks! I
decided beforehand that I would not take them back with me, because those
flags were meant to travel and carry the people mentioned on them to both
sides. So I picked up the flags and started giving them away to the
passengers that were queuing in front of the border. I told them just that
this was the end of an artistic action and that I would ask them to take
the flag. People were confused, but they didn't complain about taking them.
The "Western" ones went to the East and that was not difficult, as it was
the end of shopping day and lots of cars were waiting to enter Slovenia.
But, the problem was with the Western side: no cars there! I was standing
for a while with the bunch of white flags, not knowing what to do. Then
Valentina came and said that there was a bus waiting to enter Austria. A
perfect solution for all the flags! But, when we came to the bus, it turned
out it was a Bulgarian one, Sofia-Amsterdam line. That meant that the poor
guys were stripped off the bus together with all the luggage and searched
to the bone. I asked the customs officer if I could give the flags. She
replied nervously that they have to finish the "procedure" first. The
atmosphere was highly tens. Then she became nervous because of me as well,
standing there and waiting, so she called the Bulgarian guide, a nice young
lady speaking only German. Valentina translated and explained what was my
desire - that they would take the flags to their final destination. She
smiled in surprise but accepted it immediately. I gave her the flags, we
shook hands, Mirko was still filming. But, that was not the end, as we
thought: the main policeman came to us, quite angry, and said that we were
not allowed to do that. At first, I couldn't understand what he meant. It
turned out that he thought Mirko filmed the Bulgarians. Mirko's
explanations didn't help - he had to rewind the tape and show it to the
policeman! So we stood for some 10 minutes while he was watching. Finally,
with a sour expression, he said "you can go".

We left without smiles and nice good-byes. As it should be, I guess. 

When we joined the rest of the gang, it was clear that we should skip the
wine ritual: everybody was freezing. We jumped into the cars and went over
to Slovenia, to the nearest decent gostilna (trattoria, tavern, inn) to
fill our bodies with heat and fuel. We found a funny decorated place called
"Belna", an artificial thai garden with green light, stuffed bears,
Christmas trees and Santa Clauses. Quite appropriate for the surrealistic
feeling of the border event. But the sliwowitz was sooooooo good, and the
garlic soup, and Sol got a huge pot of mushroom soup, and we were sitting
and melting into conversations, sleepy laughters and gentle looks...

It was nine when we said good-bye and headed to our different sides.


------Syndicate mailinglist--------------------
 Syndicate network for media culture and media art
 information and archive: http://www.v2.nl/syndicate
 to unsubscribe, write to <syndicate-request@aec.at>
 in the body of the msg: unsubscribe your@email.adress