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Editorial

It could be the be-ginning of a fiction, a novel, a movie or a play. Twenty five charac-ters, young or less, men and women, belonging to five nationalities, enclosed for one month in a small village on the bor-der between Slovakia and Poland, at the bottom of a somewhat ominous mediaeval castle in ruins. From there, the fiction may vary from « The train is having fun » to « Shining », through other examples: Murder on the Orient-ex-press, The Fearless Vampire Killers, Krakow Transfer, or, in a Lovecraftian way, The Nightmare of Plaveč. Just a little variant: it’s up to us to write the fiction. We already have a frame, the railroad tracks, which won’t prevent us to slide off the rails. The stage set is ready, and all stories are imaginable, in the relation-ships to come between the village, its inhabitants, and us. The project already looks like a kaleidoscope of ideas and actions that we must shape. The screen is ready. Action now! Valérie de Saint-Do

Cela pourrait ressembler à un début de roman, de pièce, de film. 25 personnages en (quasi) huis-clos dans un village frontalier entre la Pologne et la Slovaquie, pour un mois, hommes et femmes, jeunes et moins jeunes, de cinq nationalités, au pied de la silhouette inquiétante d’un château en ruines. À partir de là, le scénario peut aller de Le wagon s’amuse à Shining, en passant par Le crime de l’Orient express, ou le Bal des Vampires, Krakow Transfert, ou, version Lovecraft, Le cauchemar de Plaveč.Juste une petite variante : la fiction, c’est à nous de l’écrire, et une trame nous a été donnée, en forme de rails dont nous savons déjà qu’ils ne nous empêcheront pas de dérailler. Le décor est posé, et tous les scénarii sont possibles, dans les relations qui vont se tisser entre nous, le village, et ses habitants, pour la suite de ce projet multiforme, déjà kaléidoscope de multiples idées et actions qui vont devoir prendre forme. L’écran est prêt. Action ! Valérie de Saint-Do

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Sme skupina ľudí z Rumunska, Maďarska, Slovenska, Polska, Francúzka, Španielska, aj Nemecka.

Je nás asi 30, a sú medzi nami filozofi, architekti, spisovatelia, umelci, sociol´govia, filmoví kritici, psychológovia i študenti. Stretli

sme sa v Bukurešti, a vlakom sme sa presúvali po trase bývalej Transylván-skej železnice cez Cluj-Napoca, Budapešt, Košice, až sme zakotvili tu v Plavči. V

mestách sme strávili väčšinou po päť dní, no v Plavči strávime celý mesiac, do 20 augus-ta, pretože práve tu bola železnica prerušená. Našou úlohou bude vytvoriť jedno spoločné

umelecké dielo. Zisťujeme však, že to bude tažký rébus, všetci sme totiž úplne iní, z iného pros-tredia, hovoríme rôznymi jazykmi, no musíme nájsť spôsob, ako sa medzi sebou dohodnúť, preto

“Mechanizmy k dohode”.

Náš projekt analyzuje vývoj politického kontextu, ktorý podnietil vznik aj zánik železničnej trate « Silesia Cracovia Karphaty », ktorá viedla cez Krakov, Košice a Budapešť, a spájala Varšavu s Bukurešťou.

Tento medziodborový výskum vo forme predchádzajúcich rezidenčných pobytov je zameraný na politické motívy ovplyvňujúce existenciu tejto trate v minulosti.

Pozornosť zameriavame teda na železničnú trasu, ktorá už dnes neexistuje. Územie strednej Európy bolo priestorom, na ktorom sa po prvej svetovej vojne udiali bohaté politické iniciatívy. Krásne to ilustruje vznik prvej Československej

republiky. Po porážke Rakúsko-Uhorska sa monarchia rozpadla a na jej troskách sa zrodili nové štáty, s ktorými ostatné krajiny chceli nadviazať politické a obchodné vzťahy. Začali sa rokovania “Malej dohody”, ktoré mali podporu vďaka im-

perialistickým ambíciám Francúzska a Anglicka . S úmyslom zblížiť krajiny, ktoré ešte včera boli nepriateľmi, sa začala rodiť myšlienka decentralizovanej železničnej siete spájajúcej miesta konfliktov. Takto vznikli viaceré železničné trate, medzi nimi aj trať “Silesia - Cracovia – Karpathy“. Po dlhých ekonomických reformách v strednej Európe, ktoré nasledovali po páde berlínskeho múra, bola v roku 2007 táto trať zrušená. Potom fungovala len ako turistická zaujímavosť, pričom stratila svoj pôvodný politicky význam. Prednedávnom sa v južnom Poľsku zrútil jeden železničný most, ktorý bol poškodený minu-loročnými povodňami. Odvtedy sú Košice a Krakov bez priameho spojenia a pre cestujúcich sa cesta medzi týmito mestami stala dvadsaťhodinovou kalváriou strávenou vo vlaku a v autobuse. Priama cesta vlakom trvala 6 hodín.

Tento projekt je dvomi spôsobmi prepojený s cieľmi Európskeho roku. Na jednej strane je absolútne nevyhnutné zozbierať sve-dectvá starších ľudí, ktorí zažili obdobia tvoriace predmet nášho výskumu, pretože s postupujúcim časom bude čoraz ťažšie tieto svedectvá získať. Na druhej strane účastníci projektu patria k rôznym generáciám. Narodili sa v rokoch 50., 60., 70. a 80., študenti dokonca v rokoch 90.

Dielo bude patriť v prvom rade obyvateľom miest na trase vlaku. Myslíme si, že výsledok tohto umeleckého pokusu nemá byť určený len milovníkom súčasného umenia, ale aj obyvateľom širšieho európskeho priestoru. Predložíme im náš pohľad na ich minulosť a budúcnosť. Súčasná kríza v Európe nám pripomína krízu v Európe medzi dvoma vojnami v rokoch 1929 až 1938. Nedávne prehlásenie poľského prezidenta a situácia v Maďarsku nás v tom utvrdzujú. V strednej Európe ešte stále tlejú staré konflikty. Chceme uvažovať o základoch európskej spoločnosti.

Do tvorivého procesu chceme zapojiť aj obyvateľov týchto obcí, pretože ich životné skúsenosti nám budú určite užitočné pri jeho realizácii. Želali by sme si, aby zmizli generačné rozdiely zapríčinené sociálnymi a ekonom-

ickými problémami mladých. Želali by sme si, aby sa v atmosfére dôvery nadviazal dialóg.

Dlhodobé ciele

Naším cieľom je vytvoriť kontext výmeny umelcov a hodnotných diel medzi Francúzskom a medzi strednou Európou. Želáme si rozvinúť ozajstné a trvalé pracovné a osobné

vzťahy s našimi partnermi na propagáciu spoločnej tvorby umelcov, ktorí majú ro-zličný pôvod a svetonázor. Takto demonštrujeme rozmanitosť a bohatstvo Eu-

rópanov. Veríme, že naša myšlienka je správna a umožní vytvoriť pevnú medzinárodnú sieť umeleckej tvorby.

by Kubo Pisek

Mechanizmy k dohode

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Dobrý deň- Hello [do-bree dhenh]

Volám sa Bea- My name is Bea [vo-laam sa Be-a]

Toto je Lujza- This is Lujza [to-to ye Loui-za]

Lujza je moja kamarátka- Lujza is my friend [Loui-za ye mo-ya ka-

ma-raa-tka]

Toto je strom- This is the tree [to-to ye strom]

Strom je vysoký- The tree is tall [strom ye vy-so-kee]

Jedno pivo- one beer [yed-no pe-vo]

Dve pivá- two beers [dve pe-va]

Slivovica- plum brandy [slee-vo-vee-tsa]

Ďakujem- thank you [dha-ku-yem]

Dovidenia – goodbye [do-ve-dhe-nhy-a]

PLAVEC

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Looking for my personal entry to the project, I fell back on my basic tools: the representa-tion in plan as a working basis to be confronted to the reality of the ground.Starting from the plan views of bare Plavec successively uncovered, I propose this reading of the village favouring the opening of new working tracks (runways). GEOGRAPHYthis picture of the village taken from the hill has surprised (temps à conserver) every-body: is the river curving such as it appears, or is it a distortion due to focalization. Walking through the village we couldn’t guess this shape: the checkerboard with the orthogonal streets seemed in contradiction with that image.Back home in the evening, I watched the maps of the other cities walked across during our trip as far as Plavec, and I had a closer look into Ljubljana map. its urban organi-zation sticks perfectly to its geography.The focal point is the castle, at the top of a hill, The river flows, the roads run around it and meet there: and city and geography coincide!Then how can we account for the contradiction between geography and structureIn Plavec ? STRUCTUREThe “official” document handed to us by the mayor includes a plan of the village, showing clearly the unhabited zone. We can imagine the houses built up along the well designed streets.This plan also intrigues me. because most of the streets seem closed in by a black line at their extremity.The village appears as a finished set.Is it really so ? Walking along down to the end of these streets, we discover that a length of new street extends into Janka Krala street and that a pedestrian path goes beyond and connects Vansovej and Janosikova streets, They moreover open into all the plots of land cultivated by the local residents. BORDERSWandering along these paths, one perceives what constitutes the north end of the village! You have guessed it: it is of course the railroad which delimi-tates and creates the border of the village!Doubled by a high-voltage line, the railroad has set up an impassable ele-vated barrier. Yet it is in no way represented on the “official” plan! FRINGEWhat is the status of this fringe zone built between village and railroad?Though it is not represented on the map, it is not at all derelict. The slightest surface is cultivated, on small plots of land of varied cultures.Shared common space? Plots of land attached to every house? Appro-priated by the inhabitants ? In any case differently from the house gar-dens, they are not enclosed!

On the other side, the zone. OPENINGSBack home in the evening I completed the plan with the observa-tions of the day, thinking that I had not yet paced up and down the three “open” roads drawn upon the plan, and that I would do it the day after.I compared this small plan to the detailed regional map, and the observation of this new map offers me a new intriguing scheme.These 3 open streets represented as “to be continued” lead to-wards three other methods of transport:

- the bus line on the main road to the South, over the bridge above the river,- the railway station, northeast, and the aerodrome, to the west.

But who comes to Plavec by plane?

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Plavec : Beyond the maps<

by Agathe Tournier-Desmesure

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The other side of the mountainThe subject, appearing decisive to me, only matters if it is related to a kind of story, a narrative form or a fiction under construction.For somehow, I find myself writing this morning without any specific intention (or without a proper subject).This exercise is quite unusual for me. As I did it the day Joanna asked me to take part of her diary.So today, these words would be more about sharing the discovering we made with Alexis yesterday afternoon.Not as a diary, but more like a kind of anecdote, which could be determinant for the editing of my movie.Indeed, I left the hotel early in the afternoon with Alexis, my video camera in my bag. Not so well equipped for a long hiking, only with the idea of discovering Plavečs environment.On the hill, we thought this old castle could be an interesting point of view.It took us only ten minutes to get there by the road, walking.We stayed a while observing, talking, exchanging our feelings about traveling, about the village and the people.Then, in a stupefying desire for adventure, we agreed to go and see what we could find further on.These hills, a loss of sight, these virgin spaces, these landscapes were calling us. I felt it and I understood at a glance that Alexis had the same feeling.So we started walking through the fields, without a word.In the distance, two limes were proudly enthroning, lost but so big, so noble and so reassuring.At the limes foot, a cross and a small chapel. Nothing much more impressive than that, but for us already the sensation of having discovered a peaceful place.In the chapel, four graves. Because of these graves, we thought this chapel looked more like a family vault, maybe for the people from the castle.Then we remembered our first goal for hanging around in these landscapes. We wanted to find something to eat as fresh meat, eggs or milk.When we first saw these houses, we decided to continue our hike, looking for a peasant who could sell us a chicken, a leg of lamb, some pork ribs or what-ever…When we went down through the wheat fields, we found the same small road that already took us to the castle.We were nearly reaching the first housings of this small hamlet, when suddenly on our right, rusted, abandoned but so existing, off the rails, there, on the other side of the mountain, it appeared to us as a benediction. A railroad wagon!Yes, a railroad wagon!!! It was surrounded by lush vegetation, in bad condition, with two chimneys on its roof and windows facing the garden.A railroad passenger wagon, miles away, feet of vertical drop from Plavečs train station. Alexis told me about Sean Penn’s movie, Into the wild, in which the principal character finds a refuge into a decommissioned train car.I was thinking of Fitzcarraldo.Later on, Cristina reminded me this Ghost dog scene, in which Forest Whitaker, from the roof of the building where he was looking after his homing pi-geons, discovered a boat in construction, surrounded by four blocks of habitations.Undeniably, we where facing a huge amount of questions related to the presence of this kind of shed, in this environment.It had certainly been used for a secondary residence, a hunting shed or a garden hut.Alexis wanted to get inside, but the padlock on the door suddenly discouraged us, and the idea of breaking into it didn’t even came to us.Well, only for a second. Then we met some people from the hamlet during their Sunday family meeting, very nice, that told us we might find a farm two miles away.On the hill nearby, we tried to talk in English with a Slovak farmer who was looking after his cows.The sun was getting down, the fresh wind was annoying my camera’s microphone, the cows’ bells were jingling in a same voice, time seemed so peaceful. The subject was now so obvious.

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diary #3

16 VII 2013

Program na dziś – antyspacer. Wcześniej – nie wiele. Nie wiadomo, gdzie iść. Co robić. O czym napisać. Śniadanie, lunch. Dziś oferujemy państwu: kurczaka z ryżem i falafalafalafala... Po-siedzenie w Tabaczce. Preparation of Deadline. Everybody: work, work, work. Trzynaście maców na przestrzeni trzynastu metrów kwadratowych. Zagęszczenie: jeden mac na jeden metr. Plus pol-skie lenovo i rumuński acer. Z Romkiem wracamy do hostelu. Jest jedna jedyna rzecz, która może umilić pobyt tam: seks. Potem drzemka i potem obiad. Half of pizza, half of salad. Po-tem jamm w tabaczce. Megazajebisty. Smutne pieśni radzieckie. Łukasz wciąż szuka i szuka właściwej melodii. Nie może znaleźć. Spróbujmy jutro. We will be trying tomorrow.

17 VII 2013

Znowu praca nad deadline. Dobrze, że nie ma za bardzo nic innego do roboty. Nikt nie żałuje, że robi coś zamiast robienia: czegoś innego. Ja z Romkiem jedziemy do Bukovca. Small, cosy beach for naturists. Gdy tam przyjeżdżamy, na plaży jest jeden chłopak. Gdy opuszczamy, z trzynaście osób. Ha, golasy południową porą. Naked people in the afternoon. Kino vagon i głupia dyskusja, czy to było śmieszne, czy nie było. Po-tem wystawa plakatów. Nie bardzo wiemy, co z nią począć. Zmywamy się więc na obi-ad. Znowu pizza i sałata. Wpada zespół redakcyjny. Brawa. New Deadline. Wszyscy czytają, cisza przy obiedzie. Potem party w tabaczce. Wygląda na to, że opijamy kolejny numer. Wszyscy totalnie pijani. Two bottles of vodka circulate under small tables. Próbujemy z Łukaszem znów. Alexis is tossing at 6 a.m. Cóż in-nego nam pozostaje?

18 VII 2013

Ja nie robię nic, nic, nic. Cierpię. Co inni robią? Nie wiem. Ale wieczorem powoli wraca norma. Obiad najgorszy od początku projektu. Ser zapiekany w placku ziemniaczanym. No party. Wszyscy zjechani po wczoraj. Cristi-na found a man on the street. Leży, nie wiadmo, co z nim. Woła Romka i Marka. Romek i Marek bez słowa wybiegają z pubu. Ja nie wiem, co się dzieje. Nie mogę za nimi pobiec, ponieważ dosiadł się do mnie jakiś blond chłopiec i głupio mi zostawić go bez słowa. W końcu wychodzę. Powoli orientuję się w sytuacji. Marek próbuje pomóc leżącemu. Marek is trying to help the lying man. Lying man has a dog. The dog is biting Marek. Marek is kicking dog. Barmaid is running out bar. She is crying: don’t bite dog. Podnosi leżącego i mozolnie prowadzi z powrotem do pubu. My wracamy: do hostelu. Podstawa wszystkiego: właściwy klimat.

19 VII

Big dilemma. Co robić. Julie: nie wiem, co robić. Łukasz: naprawdę nie wiem co robić. Ja: ja również: nie wiem, co ro-bić. Alpinka or wall? We choose Alpinka. Łukasz jeszcze w busie mota się i wysyła smsy. We start to regret in railway. Dwa średnich rozmiarów tyłki (niemal kompletnie chude) na twardej drewnianej ławeczce wymierzonej dokładnie na 1,5 tyłka. Konduktor przebrany za dziecko grozi nam srogimi restrykcjami za nieposiadanie biletu. W końcu znajduje-my te cholerne bilety w naszych przepastnych torbach. Na miejscu: tarzarnia i lunch. Przy lunchu wszyscy mówią tylko o jednym. Food. Niedługo o niczym innym nie będziemy rozmawiać. Tylko jedzenie. Food over-hauls the weather on the list the most important topics talked over. Ja biegnę na busa. Łukasz i Julie beztrosko decydują się wracać piechotą. Myślą: beztroskie 20 minut spaceru przed nami. Idą: bitą godzinę. Ja tymczasem jestem wcześnie i zawczasu w tabaczce. Na miejscu jest już gru-pa, która wybrała wycieczkę do muru. Pytam, jak dojść. Zabieram Laszlo i jedziemy. Przez 2 godziny rozmawiam po angielsku. Jestem z

I would like all participants to write together a collective diary of the journey. The first step, started

at the Academy of Fine Arts in Cracow, was to print a special notebook for making

a visual and textual diary. I wanted to enrich the idea by collecting my own

notes for the first part, and then, by asking

other participants to take part in the

process. From now, everybody can write

in his native language, while translating

some sentences into English. This open

formular creates a secret shape for

understanding each other in different

ways.

Joanna Bednarczyk

by Joanna Bednarczyk

11

siebie dumna. Co na miejscu – to nie miej-sce i nie konwencja, by o tym pisać. Wieczorem obiad. Gra orkiestra cygańska. The world teems a lot of unpleasant paradoxs. Potem tabaczka pod znakiem szatana.

20 VII

Koszyce goodbye. Plavec welcome. Bea: Plavec jest mniejsze, niż możecie sobie wyobrazić. Świat: jest bardziej abstrakcyjny, niż możecie sobie wyobrazić. Na przywitanie sołtys i zespół folklorystyczny. Emancypacja jeszcze tu nie dotarła. Chłopy drą się wnie-bogłosy. Łukasz, powiedz im proszę: sorry, ale to nie jest fajne, nie? After that: dancing. Integrative. Słowackie jedzenie dwa razy dziennie. Mało niespodzianek, ale nie można narzekać. Stormy discussion in the evening. We start, obviously, with food. Kuba i Bea podejmują się porozmawiać z kucharzem. Wszyscy plączą się w zeznaniach. Wieczorem próba zdobycia zamku. Dla niektórych – nieudana. Powrót do baru przy białym domu. Romek spija się na amen z miejscowymi. In-tegration: in everyplace appear alike.

21 VII

Niedziela, nienawidzę niedziel. Sklep zamknięty. Żołądek, zalany kluskami i topionym serem, domaga się owoców. Jarek zaczyna film. Wszyscy zaczynają: coś robić. Spanie, czytanie, pranie, wycieczki na zamek, w małych grupkach lub pojedynczo. Potem obiad. Restau-rant owner: Listen to me, I propose you broad range of dish-es;I am nice for you, so: be nice to me. Może teraz dyskusje o jedzeniu nieco przycichną. Visit in the cinema. Inaugural performance of Cristina and her’s team. Curtain operator: Simon. Gromkie brawa. Castle party. Deadline wieczorową porą.

Július 17, szerdaEste vonatra szálltam a Keletiben, hogy csatlakozzak a csapathoz Kass-án. Evening, train to Kosice. Nehezen értem el a vonatot 18.30-kor, de sikerült. Kényelmes út, szép vonat, lehet beszélgetni. Chatting with old guys from Kosice in Hungarian.A fülkében a bácsik, akik Kassára utaznak haza, beszélnek mag-yarul. Az egyikük, aki értelmes is, meghívott télre sífutást ta-nulni, nagyon kedves, sokat beszélgetünk a hegyekről, a Szlovák Paradicsomról, ami egy vadregényes kirándulóhely nem messze. Invitation for the wintertime, cross-country skiing. Sloven-sky Raj. A többi bácsi cigányozik, itt sem szeretik őket és a Lunik IX-et. Bűnbakok? Other guys tell about “gypsies”, they don’t like them and Lunik IX. Scapegoats?A síelő bácsi segít megtalálni a villamost, így viszon-ylag könnyen eltalálok a Tabackába. végre a csapattal, 11.00 PM. With the group in Tabacka, at last! Új deadline. Mindenki vidám. Romkocsma.hangulat, mint otthon. Ruinpub feeling, like at home. Megpróbálok sört is inni, ok. I try to risk a beer, it’s ok.

by László Milutinovits

12

19. 7. 2013

While waiting for a bus from Alpinka, a guy called Arpad gave me a lesson of gypsy language. He told

me that one of his sons left for

America and an-other one to London.

His daughter lives in Ukraine. I asked him if he doesn’t feel lonely with his children so far from home: « does any of your kids still stay with you?» He pointed to a woman with three little girls: « I still have those ba-bies». He told me that he had left the town 5 years ago for the serenity of the forest. Now he can’t bear the frantic life. He was a pilot until he crashed. Boundaries, limited unities, fiction stuff. A mind does not know the difference between the per-ceived reality and the one it creates itself. We are all invited to his house for bar- becue. It’s the most orange one in Alpinka.

sarpes vicines? - what is your name?me man vicinam - my name isso phenau? - what do you say?kames curau? - do you want to fuck?dzantre mindh - go to hellav manca - come with mebokalo sal? - are you hungry?me- me - i am0944 131 392 - Arpad - the most orange house in Alpinka.

Košiceby Lujza Magova

13

Košický Blšák / Flea market

by Beáta Kolbašovská

It was opened in 1991. Most stalls were there in 1999. The prohi-bition law for the sale of car parts, cigarettes, alcohol and meat,

halted its development. More than 10 years people have lived in uncertainty, because of plans to build a football

stadium on the property. People are afraid the mar-ket will close down up to this day. City wanted

to settle the debt of the football club by sell-ing parcels lying on Blšák. After 2000

the price of rent raised rapidly. Renting a booth in Blšák may

be more expensive than renting an apartment

in Košice.

14

The Wall

photos by Tomas Matauko

Since we visited the wall, it has been tagged. You can now read the word: Prepàčte on the external side facing Lunik IX. Which means: We’re sorry.

source : http://kosice.korzar.sme.sk/c/6877421/kosicky-mur-pomalovali-napisom-prepacte.html

15

« Was it nice, your visit to Lunik IX ? »

I can’t remember who in the group asked me the question, but, well... « nice» is certainly not the proper word that I would use to describe what, anyway, was not a visit to Lunik IX, the area of Košice (some would say « the ghetto ») where about 10000 Roma people are living. You don’t visit Lunik IX as a tourist; you don’t go there as to a zoo, looking for the exoticism of relegation and poverty.What Roman (who had read about it in a newspaper), Marek, Tomas and I wanted to see was a wall, supposed to separate Lunik IX from the rest of the city, and especially from Lunik VIII, the nearest area.

So we took a tram, and walked for a rather long way under the sun, along the kind of highway that, already sets Lunik IX apart from the city. And we saw Lunik IX, from the other side of the highway. And we watched families and many chil-dren entering the place. Blocks, like everywhere in the city, at the foot of a forest covered hill. Just like the area we visited two days before with Mičo Husak, who subtly introduced us to an area supposed to be the most « difficult » after Lunik 9, and finally agreed with us that it was very peaceful to live in. There we saw only quiet families, children playing, and small gardens carefully looked after, next to an oasis of waste ground.

But in Lunik IX, the very grey blocks have no more windows at all, and some of the buildings, still standing last February, are totally destroyed (Tomas, who had been in Lunik IX last winter, noticed their disappearing.)

What we didn’t see was the wall.

« But you know, these blocks were the latest to be built and luxury buildings before  ». Searching for some information about this invisible wall, we found some in the course of a discussion with a young policeman, in a car – and dog! – washing station along the highway. He confirmed what we had already noticed: there is no wall.Or, let’s say, almost no wall. What we learnt from him was that, originally, populations were mixed in Lunik 9. But that in the course of years, « normal people » (I’m quoting his words) left what is now considered as « the shame of the city ». And that he himself goes to this area ten times or more per day, essentially for robbery and breaking glass

cases.

He also explained to us that a hundred or so inhabitants had expressed a demand for a wall which the city’s authorities had accepted.

What we couldn’t grasp was the purpose of building this wall. « What is the point of enclosing people whom you

won’t prevent anyway from going everywhere they want to?» I asked the question. The answer was

dry, somewhat icy: « just go and spend five minutes there and you will understand ».

At the end of the discussion, the po-liceman didn’t shake hands with

me.

But, following his indi-cations, we finally

found his fa-mous wall,

or some

attempt at a wall. It stands between two blocks of Lunik 8, about two metres high, and twenty metres long, built from a light material looking like but not being concrete. Any child could climb it rather easily. The inside is somewhat decorated, the outside is tagged. I had the answer to my previous question: the object of the wall is not to isolate gypsies in Lunik IX –  they are already quite isolated – but to protect, somehow symbolically, the inhabitants of Lunik VIII.

It would be easy, certainly superficial and somewhat arrogant, to draw quick conclusions. Especially from a French point of view, when we know that the feelings towards gypsies (either towards « travellers » families set in France from five centuries or towards « Roma people » arrived from Romania and Bulgaria during the last 15 or 20 years) are not the least friendly. Yet we can’t but notice racism towards gipsies here, we can’t help hearing harsh words even from very open and educated people. But I know that in Slovakia as well as in Romania, laws are very protective for Roma people. There is a kind of « pos-itive discrimination » in schools, for instance, with teaching the children in their own language – something completely inconceivable in our very unit-ed (in an abstract way) French Republic, (!) who doesn’t acknowledge eth-nic communities. And Košice must be the only city in Europe that shelters a Roma theatre and a Roma media center. So, what went wrong? What was missed during these years of transition be-tween forced social and ethnic diversity during the communist era and today? The question is unanswerable, I admit. Or rather, the explanations are many, and maybe, somewhat universal, when a community is struck, at the same time, with discrimination, poverty, and keeps being the object of old fears.Anyway, this is probably not the real question to ask. What is important is to suggest real answers, in the social and cultural fields. On my departure’s eve, I was discussing the topic with Ramona Strachinaru, a Romanian social worker settled in France, who is missioned for the Council of Europe about the Roma question and was a very committed member in an action we led with Roma people from Romania settled in Ris Orangis, a second-circle suburb of Paris. She warned me, very rightly, against all kind of generalization. Even united by a common language and culture (and there are subtleties even there) Roma people in central Europe introduce themselves as Romanian, Bulgarian, Slovaks as well as Roma people.

She now trusts the value of some social and cultural experiences in small-scale communities. Many social workers, artists, architects, teachers try to ex-

periment in this way, everywhere in Europe.Which is encouraging. But if « small is beautiful », the big ques-

tion still remains.

Valérie de Saint-Do

P.S. Reading this text, my father sent me an in-formation: A right -wing French MP had

these words a few days ago: «  Gypsies? Hitler didn’t kill enough of them  ».

He was excluded from his party, yet it shows a feeling which is,

I fear, not so uncommon in Europe.

16

When travelling, city walls, churches and mosques, pieces of roughly carved stones talk to me and tell stories wherever I am in Europe. It felt like that in the moment when from a metro wagon I first had the chance to see Notre-Dame in Paris or also in Istanbul upon visiting the Hagia Sophia. If some way

I believe that if one fails to learn about history of a place or landscape which he or she visits, he also fails to see and to notice. It’s like poking about for something in a street blindfold.Let’s have a look around, then. For example, did you know that hundred years ago in the main street of Kosiče you could only stroll along on certain side, depending on your social status? Or that the lovely valley we visited to take the children railway, used to be also a popular week-end and picnic site of the rich families from Kosiče? That time they referred to it as ’Csermely’ (Cermel), which means a tiny watercourse in Hungarian. Nice, sound-imitative word/ˈt͡ ʃɛrmɛj/, isn’t it? It was also the favourite site of the well-known and well-to-do Grosschmied family, whose ancestors were partly German Sax-ons and also ancient Hungarian nobles. In 1900, a new baby was born in the family: Sándor Grosschmied, who later became one of the most important writers of Hungary, rather known by his artist name Sándor Márai (April 11, 1900 – February 21, 1989). In Kosiče (called Kassa in his works) I had the chance to visit his memorial museum, which was reopened in the frame of the Ko-siče 2013 Capital of Culture program. As a writer he is a representative of the bourgeois middle-class, with a strong European and Christian identity. (Don’t forget – ‘middle class’ meant a much smaller and relatively rich and illustrious social class that time.) His most famous work, the ‘Confessions of a middle-class citizen’ tells a lot about the everyday life, lifestyle and education of this layer of the society, with special regard to Kosiče. However, his work is much more than this. He was the first translator of Kafka to Hungarian, and was a friend of Thomas Mann. Being a cosmopolitan character, he travelled a lot, and lived in Budapest, Berlin, Frankfurt, Paris, Italy, and later on in the USA. As his works were considered decadent by the communist regime, he had to live in exile from 1948, never to return to Hungary or Kosiče.

Names and brothersMárai had to change his name as his father, a prominent lawyer and state officer did not like the idea of him becoming a writer and journalist – thus, low-class. His younger brother also changed his name for the same reason, and became well-known as a film director: Géza Radványi’s most famous piece is Valahol Európában (Somewhere in Europe/ Quelque part en Europe, 1948), which focuses on the misery of abandoned children after the World War II.

by László Milutinovits

photos from left to right : Hidden, but present – Sándor Márai’s photo in TabackaSándor Márai, aged 4Calling for dialogue - The statue of Márai in Kosice

Travel wide-eyed

17

THE ENTENTEJACQUES LACAN

(Intervention of Jacques Lacan modified by Guillaume du Boisbaudry: the word “death” is replaced by the word “entente”).

The entente…It’s faiths domain.

You’re quite right to believe that you will be heard, of course.

It gives you support.If you didn’t believe it, could you bear the life

you have.If we weren’t strongly backed by the certitude

that we will be heardCould you bear this history?

L’ENTENTE JACQUES LACAN

(Intervention de Jacques Lacan modifiée par Guillaume du Boisbaudry : le mot « mort » est remplacé par le mot « entente »).

L’entente…Est du domaine de la foi.

Vous avez bien raison de croire que vous allez être entendu bien sûr.

Ça vous soutient.Si vous n’y croyiez pas, est-ce que vous pour-

riez supporter la vie que vous avez.Si l’on n’était pas solidement appuyé sur cette

certitude qu’on sera entendu.Est-ce que vous pourriez supporter cette his-

toire.

18

Let’s go on searching about what « performance art » means in 2013, in our team where several of us introduce themselves, or are labelled « performers ». Interview with Nils Clouzeau who just graduated from the Fine Arts School of Bordeaux.

Virtual space is a space for performance Interview with Nils Clouzeau by Valérie de Saint-Do

What is performance to you ?

Fundamentally, I would say that performance is an action, which induces time and duration. The work you can see on my blog is an example of that. I work mainly with computers and new media, the question of lasting is insofar important. When you’re facing your computer, there are several relationships with time and duration: the running of hours on your screen, the hours pointed when your files are saved. I am often using very rudimentary tools, like Paint. So, instead of using hotkeys or programming, I have to repeat each action manually. In some way I become the program.So performance is something that doesn’t involve my body, but an attempt to return the feeling of time lasting. On this point, my practices differ from traditional performance art, where you involve your body in front of an audience in a public space. My body disappears in my work. It is an experience of time passing rather than a corporeal practice. I’m working with the web 2.0, which is a collaborative space. I’m using it as a space where my performances can be seen. I’m mak-ing actions at home. I put them on my blog, so that a narrative remains.

Aren’t you looking for interference in public spaces?

But Internet is a public space! Interaction exists through the shares and commentaries about the blog on Facebook. I get into another kind of social relationship, in rather a quick way : « I like, I share » or I just don’t take care and leave.

How do you solve the problem of archives?

This is why I am using the web: my work can be seen somewhere. I can master tracks and archives. In fact, I’m always cheating! I can order my narrative afterwards, to make it more relevant.

(Nils shows me a work based on screen captures, sort of slow deformation of a computer desktop).

What about the importance of cooking in your work?

I like to eat and cooking is a way of sharing, an act of generosity. Generosity is important in art, and cooking is generous. It is also meaningful in terms of relationships between cultures; the fact that Bea and Kubo wanted to film a friend of them, in order to give me tutorials, and allow me to cook Slovak food, is impor-tant, even if we missed time to achieve this project.

Working with tutorials caught on websites is important to you? I began to search for tutorials on the Internet. I learnt pottery on YouTube, also with basic skills in woodcraft. This allowed me to meet interesting people and to learn with them in real life. Tutorials bring also meetings. This is the kind-process we have engaged with Kubo. What is interesting with tutorials is the idea of community and the sharing of knowledge and skills, which you can find on the web, but also in daily life and encounters in real life. Internet is just a medium, which makes exchanges easier. This practice is also linked with the fab Labs– these places where almost anything can be made– and makers: these people who want to make things, from their own hands, again.

http://nils-clouzeau.tumblr.com

This is not a perfor-mance #2

19

This is not a perfor-mance #2

20

When I opened my eyes I realised I don’t have a wallet. Neither unloaded phone. Nor sunglasses with popular logo beginning on letter „r” and also I’ve

lost my prestige on the capital letter „P”. Clothes didn’t disappear. I was only a little more dishevelled than I expected but at the time I quickly refreshed myself,

buttoning my shirt and also putting into pockets of my best trousers whatever I could.I brushed my hair to the back using both hands with hope that I can look like one of those

Sicilian Hunaks, even though I knew without gel it never could be the same. I stretched, straightening bones. Then I looked around to know where I could be.

I was in the room, I could say, rather clean one. Walls were purely white, bedclothes also, without any dirt. There were some old posters on the wall. So, I realized that should be there only the house

arrest as the worst-case scenario. There was just one window, I guess on the East side because the light of sunrise coming through the glass really bothered me. I went to open the window in one quick move-

ment to let the noise come into my room. Cars were moving slowly like the people on both sides of the road. They, those people, have been dressed rather in the European style, if it’s possible to entitle the fashion

either style in this way. Maybe I’m in Warsaw which I’d tried to get to, maybe I’d just got drunk in a train with newly met gentlemen who could pick me up from train station, whatever, I don’t remember. Or, maybe my drunk-

en flesh had been taken by very nice taxi driver who drove me to the hotel, in the good deed, and left all my stuff at reception. I like the last one; it’d be quite optimistic. Finally, I had not been put anyhow in the bad position, according

to the aesthetics of the place. On a cupboard close to my bed, I found a folded towel and shower gel, so I decided to take a shower, before another steps will be taken by me to solve of mystery „what’s going on”. There were two doors. I opened the

door on the left, which seemed to lead to the bathroom. Green tiles, kinda insipid, but I shouldn’t sulk on it. I set the perfect temperature of water immediately and went for a quick shower, using the stuff I previously found.

I missed only to brush my teeth, but without any more whining I dressed up and decided to use the second door, finally to face the question ‘what’s up’? I hang my towel on the radiator, with shaking hands pressed the knob, and then I went through the remaining

doors. It was such a surprise they haven’t been walled up. They led to the corridor, panned by the old, red, used and fitted carpet. On the left there was the glazed wall, so I turned to the right to seek the stairs, which were supposed to lead to my imagined impressions. I was go-

ing very slowly between the walls, trying to avoid making any noise. I passed reproductions of many different paintings in antiframes, I guess impressionists – I’m not sure ‘cause I badly know the history of art. I high-fived one of my reflections, felt much better of those companions. I

sped up and finally I found stairs, which could lead me to the ground floor, the level zero. There’s also elevator but I didn’t wanna use it to abuse hostility by unnecessary electricity use, so I run down completely terrified.

After two floors I found the exit from the building and the reception, right on right from it. Reception was quite pretty, it had mahogany top with a height of one meter and fifty centimeters. Wood contrasted nicely with silver bottom which held that counter. Behind the reception there were wooden

nooks, each with different number. Before I could take a better look around, I noticed two of my train companions. They just were drinking coffee. I noticed black colour of the liquid in their cups. As soon as they spotted me, looking around the place, they stood up rapidly and came to me smiling.

Oh, hello, sleeping beauty, you finally woke up – said the one, who teased me during voyage, with those sun reflects.Yeah, we kind showed you how to truly get wasted, yesterday, didn’t we? - Initiated that stylised one – Coffee? Beer? After your train show yesterday,

I’d rather recommend you to not stop drinking. Hangover might kill you.Actually, where are we? - I asked.

What kinda question is it, little bird? We are in such a beautiful country, and if I should speak a little more precisely, in the capital. When we came sightseeing the old town you’d stop flaunting around with your Warsaw. - Responded the first one, still showing his teeth.

Listen, don’t bother yourself with documents and the rest of your stuff. We took it, ‘cause if someone here sees them, you’d get a lot of unneeded problems. - Continued the second.

Okay, let’s say I understood everything, but gimme back all mine stuff now, please. - I said with a little imperative in voice.Oh, don’t get such a nervous, little bird. Everything’s under control. You’re gonna be our guest – answered the ironic one. He went

to the fridge which was at the reception and took a bottled beer for me.Relax, man and keep rockin’. Today there’s a lot of tourist attractions for you, so, don’t complain anymore.

To be honest, my head had started to pulsate, so I grabbed alcohol full bottle and emptied half of it, with one gulp. I turned flask in my hands, just to realize by the label where I was, but I couldn’t recognize it at all. I looked around my

new friends, and when headache stopped, I brought up a question:So, where am I?

By us, little bird. You’ve a month of holidays, as you demanded in the train. And we gonna take care of you, as your real hosts. You should have the best memories from this journey.

by Marek Mardosewicz

Untitled part II

21Composition : Cristina David, Corrector Simon Quéheillard, photo Julie Chovin

22

Je/nous....I/usPhotos Julie Chovin

23

Julie in Budapest, 13 July 2013. “We don’t stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing.” George Bernard Shaw. photos by Edyta Mąsior

24

by Jarosław Wójtowicz

8 júl. Cluj-Napoca. Fabrica de Pensule. Koncert Kuba a Lukáša. Priš-la Gosia Goliszewska, Marekova kamarátka. Gosia navrhla zaviesť nás (mňa a Mareka) na tajné miesto, nasledujúci deň o 12.00 hod.9 júl. Všetci trocha meškáme. Koniec koncov stretávame sa na au-

tobuske, pár minút pred 13.00 hod. Gosia, Cloe, Marek a ja.Ukazuje sa, že tým tajným miestom je zničené kino. Všetko, tisíce metrov pohádzaných pások kopií 35 milimetrových filmov. Veľa hodín stratených dát v nenávratne. Pásky povyťahované z kotúčov. Poprepletané všetko dookola. Stromy, budovy. Zvíjajú sa po tráve. Časť pások je spálená. // The secret place was the almost completely destroyed cinema. Hundreds or even thousands of meters of scattered tapes. Copies of films. 35 millimeters. Many hours of probably irretrievably lost data. Tape, pulled out of boxes, entwine everything around. Trees, buildings. Tapes wind their way through the grass. Some of them had been burned.Zostałem z Cloe sam na sam. Marek i Gosia są w innej części zespołu budynków. Dyskretnie się wycofuję, przechodzę do sali projekcyjnej, wykonuję kilka zdjęć. Pewnie sporo detali mi umyka, nie mogę się skon-centrować. Zniszczona sala kinowa, z kawałkami obić foteli, z prawie w całości zakrytą podłogą. Za ścianą Cloe robi własne zdjęcia, prawie czuję jej oddech. Za chwilę ucieknę, kino rozbudziło zbyt duże pożądanie. // Zostal som s Cloe sám. Marek a Gosia sú v inej časti komplexu budov. Diskrétne odstupujeme, prechádzame do projekčnej sály, robím nejaké fot-ky. Pravdepodobne veľa detailov mi uniká, nemôžem sa sústrediť. Zničená kinosála, s kúskami poťahov sedadiel, takmer so všetkými páskami zakrytá podlaha. Za stenou robí Cleo svoje vlastné fotky, takmer cítim jej dych. Za chvíľu utečie, kino vzbudilo príliš veľa prianí. // Pragnę uspokojenia. Cloe wyjaśnia, że chciała oddać zdjęcia bezdomnemu, który mieszka w tym bu-dynku. Akurat go nie było.Na stretnutí som navrhol, aby sme šli do starého kina. Urobiť kolektívnu performance. Trzeba by te taśmy pociąć i ułożyć z nich nową całość. Nový film. Revitalizovať nový found footage. Digitalizovať zlú kvalitu.10 júl. Basia sa skúša dozvedieť, o ktorej máme ísť do starého kina. Je 12 hodín. Som netrpezlivý, hovorím, że neviem. Že sa najprv musím zbaliť. Okolo 10.30 Marta povedala, že sa musíme zbaliť a uvolniť izby, lebo o 12tej končí hotel. Penzión Paríž už nás viac nechce vidieť. Lukáš sa veľmi čudoval, ani mne sa to veľmi nepáči. Ale może urządzimy kolejny perfor-mance. Prechádzka cez Cluj so záťažou.Marek navrhol a povedal, že za 5 minút odchádzame. To mu mówię, że nie za 5. Je 12.20. Pôjdeme o 12.45. Medzičasom Marta informovala, że ba-tožina môže zostať v inom penzióne. Diadis. Hovorím, že pôjdem zaniesť moju batožinu a zachvíľu môžme ísť.Prechádzka do kina. Cristina, Basia, Marek, Kubo, Bea, Lujza, Judith, Edy-ta, Seydou, Mathieu, Nils, Paul a ja. Seydou poprosil, aby som mu pov-edal, kedy budeme prichádzať do kina. Aby mohol sfilmovať náš vchod.

Ale Seydou chyba mnie trochę uprzedził, już wchodzi, volá, żeby przed wejściem počkať, on musí nás uprzedzić, wejść głębiej, ująć przej-ście cez płot. Naozaj dokumentačný teror. Fajčím cigaretu a myslím, že by som ne-chcel byť natočený. Pristúpi ku mne tehotná cigánka a pýta cigaretu. Seydou je dal zvyšnú cig-aretu. Seydou a Cristina tlmočia cigánke, że by nemala fajčiť. Cigánka są nesmelo usmieva, ako neovládateľný študent, ktorý vie, že robí zle, ale aj tak je o tom presvedčený. Że niby wyżebrała cigaretu dla partnera. Vyzerá mlado. Môže mať 18 rokov. Detská tvár. Hrubý pruhovaný sveter. Rozh-liadam sa po vnútorných priestoroch. Vraciam sa a už tam nie je. Ukryla sa pred skupinou cigánov, ktorí ju náhle odviezli. // Zaczepia mnie ciężarna Cyganka z pytaniem o papierosa. Seydou podaje jej zwykłego papierosa. Ja jeszcze nie skończyłem swojego. Paląc musiałbym skręcić kolejnego. Sey-dou i Cristina tłumaczą Cygance, że to niedobrze palić. Cyganka uśmiecha się nieśmiało, jak krnąbrny uczeń, który wie, że źle robi, ale i tak odczuwa satysfakcję. Że niby wyżebrała papierosa dla partnera. Wygląda młodo. Może 18 lat. Twarz dziecka. Zgrzebny sweterek w paski. Rozglądam się po wnętrzach budynków. Wracam i już jej nie ma. Ukryła się przed grupą ciekawskich, którzy ją nagle odwiedzili. // A pregnant gipsy bothered me with a request of cigarette. Seydou gave her a regular one. I didn’t finish yet mine. I couldn’t do it, cause I had to roll one more, while smoking. Seydou and Cristina explain the gipsy, it’s not healthy to smoke. She smiled faintly, like a stubborn student, who knows she’s doing a bad thing, but she feels the satis-faction. Like she begged the cigarette for her partner. She looks young. Maybe she’s eighteen years old. Face of a child. Coarse striped pullover. I look around interiors of the buildings. I come back, and she’s gone. She hid from the group of the curious one, who bothered her suddenly.Zhromaždil som svoju úrodu. Na stolíku ležia kúsky 16 milimetrových pások. Ťažké. Jednak ich nie zabiorę. Mám sporo pakunków. Kręcę się właściwie celý čas okolo toho istého miesta. Edyta povedala, že možno existujú aj pásky 16 milimetrové. // Już zebrałem swoje żniwa. Na stoli-ku leżą taśmy 16 milimetrów. Ciężkie. Jednak ich nie zabiorę. Mam sporo pakunków. Kręcę się właściwie przez cały czas wokół tego samego miejsca. Edycie mówię, że są jeszcze taśmy 16 milimetrów. To i Edyta chyba zabrała te taśmy.Staré kino. Fungovalo možno 6 aj 7 rokov. Niewiele poza tym mogę się dowiedzieć.18 júl. Košice. Výlet na úzkokoľajke. Kubo hovorí, że by sme mohli vys-kúšať pásky v starom kine pri Hlavnej ulici. Prepáč, zaspal som. Keď som sa vrátil do hotela, som zaspal. Kubo tiež nemal čas prísť. Nič sa nekoná. Nikto nepriniesol pásky.21 júl. Plaveč. Hodina 20.30. Kubo dostal kľúče od starého, nepoužívaného kina. To bude naše pracovné miesto najbližší mesiac.

Translated by Bea, Kubo, Lujza (Slovakian), Marek and Jarosław (Eng-lish)

Opustené kiná / Abandoned Cinemas / Opuszczone kina

25

photos by Edyta Mąsior

26

by Łukasz Jastrubczak

1. The objects I photograph

used to have certain function. This used to be a fountain, that used to be a road sign.

The relation of functionality to aesthetical properties of the objects could be compared to the relation of avantgarde

movements and its representation after death. When avantgarde is institutionlized and museumlized, it becomes a sculpture.

2. Among all objects, in the very moment, I choose the one that becomes a sculpture for me. The relation is contextual. Since a while, other people started to show me the potential sculptures on the streets. The relation in-creased to an amount of at least one object (sculpture) and two persons. 3. If we petrify one of these sculptures, in the future the interpretation of the object’s function will be a matter of coincidence. Therefore we don’t

exactly know what is a destiny of the object. Its potential meaning, function or form.

4. Objects that I call sculptures, can be seen as well as re-mains of failure. In its all material appearance.

The o u t -d a t i n g of meanings is a constant process - pro-ceeding all the faster the quicker civilization changes.Contextual art proposes a sign, the criterion of truth of which, defined by the pragmatic context, changes incessantly (a situation develops in which “p” begins to be “p” - begins not to be “p”). Object “O” assumes the meaning “m” in time “t”, place “p”, situation “s”, in relation to per-son/persons “x” then and only then. A change of any of those elements outdates the previous meaning.

Several motives on letter S - sculptures

by Jan Świdziński

27

miscel-lane-

ous

Want ad

We are looking for talented m

an and wom

an hairdresser/stylist with

necessary equipment to cut our hair. C

ontact us, please! W

e can give swim

ming or chess-lessons in return. O

r?C

ristina and László

Hungarian joke

Móricka üzenőfüzetébe beírja a tanárnő:“A gyerek büdös, fürdetni!”

Mire az apukája válaszol:“Nem szagolni, tanítani!”

by Marta Jonville

28

List of participants of the project: Agata Dutkowska Alexis Emery-Dufoug Beáta Kolbašovská Cristina David Desmesure collective / Agathe & FredEdyta Masior Filip Przybyłko Guillaume du BoisbaudryJan Sowa Jarosław WójtowiczJoanna BednarczykJudit KurtágJulie Chovin Kubo Pisek László MilutinovitsLujza Magová Łukasz JastrubczakMałgorzata M. DudekMarek MardosewiczMarta Jonville Mathieu Lericq Nils Clouzeau Palce Lizac – Dominika & BarbaraPaul Maquaire Roman DziadkiewiczSeydou Grépinet Simon Quéheillard Thomas DesmaisonTomas Matauko Valérie de Saint-Do special guests : Gaston & Leon Desmesure, Dymitr Sowa-Bojadzijew, Bruno Dziadkiewicz, Florian Patiny edition of 150 copies / July 26th 2013 Plavec printed in Copyvait by Boris Vaitovic http://blog.mecanismespourentente.eu

,

The main issue of “Mechanisms For An Entente” is the production of a multiform collective artwork, to promote a deep aesthetic, philosophical and political reasoning about the becoming of Central European countries in relation to the idea of the European Union.We want to work the nature of the European condition.

Mechanisms For An Entente

Deadline staff:

Valérie de Saint-Do = editor Tomas Matauko = co-editor Łukasz Jastrubczak = design & layout

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special thanks to Yves de Saint-Do

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.