magmamagazine #1

I S S U E n o . 1

Born

1/2012q u a r t e r l y

w w w . m a g m a m a g . c h

4

a v E r y w a r m w E l c o m E

b y o . w ü E S t & j . S c h E l k E r

We don‘t call it that, but this is our baby.like any child, it will grow and, of course, change in a quite unpredictable way. actually, it is inten-ded to and we are both curiously anticipating it. Hopefully it will not just grow in size, but also in spirit, like any real child will over time. We do have plans for it, sure, and we did what we could to prepare it for the world outside. But now we sit back and watch the first steps. For we are stern parents and don‘t let our child out of sight. Meanwhile we are running around proudly, showing the picture of our little one to everybody interested in it or not. yes, you may pinch its cheek, if you like. Go ahead.

But to stop abusing even more metophors and since you asked, magmamagazine was born over a cup of coffee from our wish to do something fun and creative and share it. therefore we have invited nice and talented people to share their work and vision for this issue. We will continue to do so, for the time being, every three months and we‘re looking for-ward to it.Now go see for yourself, we think you might like it.

JS

lovechild

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When suddenly thrown into this world — to put it sartresque — the human being finds itself opposed to an immense amount of possibilities and the free-dom to choose whatever direction. Nonetheless, with this liberty comes a great liability for yourself and the effect of your actions... We no like.

Way too many consequences! Hence, the idea of magmamag was born when we felt like experien-cing this liberty only. We wanted to let our lovechild grow in any way it could; by letting go of too heavy burdens, such as high cultural values.Without pressure and most certainly without respon-sibility, magmamag is born of leisure. and it hopes to be perceived as such.In this first issue we will set a few corner marks, which will yet enable us to grow in dimensions and directions.

Part of magmamag is also the open call for sub-missions (always for the next issue‘s widely compre-hensible and fabulous topic). We hope it will make this a more global project, generated by different artists from various places of the world.We are this lovechild‘s parents, but everyone could be one of its educators. We like.

ow

b o r n

t o b e b o r n — X I a o Q U n w U

r o u n d a n d r o u n d — m I r I a m m U r a

w a v e o f m e t a - c o n s c i o u s n e s s — S h E E n a z E n z

e m e r s i o n — o l I v E r w ü E S t

t h e a l c h e m y o f p . o r n o — S h E E n a z E n z

c h a n g i n g p l a c e s — j o n a t h a n S c h E l k E r

c i r c l e o f l i f e — m I r I a m m U r a

i n t e r v i e w : t h E g r E a t E S t

s p a c e c r e a t u r e s — n a d j a k I l c h h o f E r

p i s c i n a t u m — j o n a t h a n S c h E l k E r

l i g h t e n u p — o l I v E r w ü E S t

s n a p ! — n o E m I S p I E l m a n n

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Chel see Ivan, Calgar y a lber ta Canadaw w w.chel seeivan.com

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to be born

X I a o Q U n

w U

to be born

mIr Iam mUra

The Alchemy of P. Orno

S h E E n a

z E n z

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Preconditioned desires have been discovered

Suppression and humiliation lost their necessity

Because his interest of possession fades

He's satisfied just being alive

So he can let go of the pleasure

He used to get out of violence

In order to delve into serendipity

through transcending the overvaluation of sexiness

From separation to integration

Of body, mind and soul

an unexpected transformation

the alchemy of P. Orno

empathy and intuition realigned with his senses

Making him regret his perverted manipulative influence on others

that's why he sincerely asks for forgiveness

to radiate light into his dark reputation

By replacing past and future sorrows

With the gift of awareness

to transmute former fuck routines

Into sessions of unconditional love





Due to the rise of his consciousness

His addictive behavior withers

regardless of winter blues or spring bliss

He remains in stillness

Free now, he is

Dancing to the law of rhythm

and every movement he makes

reveals the beauty of his surrender...





emersionO l I v e r

W ü e S t

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emersionO l I v e r

W ü e S t

«blessed are the hearts that can bend.

they shall never be broken.»

albErt camUS

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I am riding on an ascending wave of meta-consciousness

Within its waters resides the breath of heaven

Calling upon apocalyptical storms

to blow away false norms

It is my pleasure as one of the swimmers

to introduce to all the professionals and the beginners

the ability of violet flames

Inventing rejuvenating games



Surmounting earthly dualism

to detach from materialism

It is my service as one of the swimmers

to be impartial towards the virtuous and the vicious

there is no more need to defend or offend

as karmic cycles are coming to an end



redefining madness and normality

to develop a healthy spirituality

Sparkly crystals in the water

Mark the entrance to egoless realms

and the sparkly crystals in the sky

Perpetuate the wisdom of the ones riding

On the wave of meta-consciousness

Wave of Meta-Consciousness

S h E E n a

z E n z

photographS & arm: jonathan SchElkEr

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m I r I a m

m U r a

circle lifeof

circle lifeof

the Greatest

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dear nadja, about two weeks ago, your first album «amid the hours» got released and so did your singing career in an official way. how does it feel? thumbs up?

it feels strange. but in a good way. releasing the album was like letting the pieces / songs go. that's not easy. but after working on it for more than an year, it was also a relief. now, the work is done. and i can go on.

are you going to lean back and enjoy? or rather — full of inspiration — heading towards new work, since there's also new room for it now?

honestly, it was really tiring. so i can't even think about new pi-eces. but there will be concerts the next few weeks. that's so-mething completely different, than the last months. i really look forward to it.

speaking more generally, where or what does the greatest get it's inspiration from?

that's quite difficult to say. i think there's no general answer to that. everything surrounding.

when writing songs, especially lyrics, do you have the audience in mind? and do you feel a duty to say something grave, with an impact. do you care?

i don't think about the audience or what they might wanna hear. and I don't feel like having a duty to fulfill. it's important to me to be free. but i definetly write songs with a deep impact and weighty words. the words are so important. people should start listen to them more, generally.

« Freedom, nature, forces, frailty. We live, cease and try to be. The Greatest is a matter of the heart — plain, gentle, sometimes ardent or impe-tuous. There are no rules, no roles. I am, you are. Amid the hours.»as uprising swiss music act, the greatest, was recently ‹born›, with the release of their debut

album «amid the hours», we took the chance to get lead singer nadja for an interview.

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let's play a game: i'll give you a topic, and you'll give me one thing that you like and one you don't like... female musicians

pro: lower me down. pin me in. secure the grounds.contra: female voices.

you don't like female voices?

i like few. why is that?

i don't know. i just never did. male voices mean much more to me. it may sound weird.

interesting...this of course brings me to: male musicians

pro: antony.contra: those million indie guys in thight jeans.

filmpro: into the wild. contra: inexpressive films.

dreams

pro: to flow in time. contra: unlasting.

security and comfortpro: depends on the reference. warmth. contra: don't know...

mainstream

pro: in musical culture? difficult... contra: its weight.

naturepro: ...is everything. contra: people's connection gets lost, more and more.

truthpro: heart. contra: hurt.

expectationspro: trying not to have any. my mind's more open then. contra: dashed.

a songpro: changes everything. contra: changes everything.

food

pro: plants. contra: cruelty.

color

pro: no specific colour. colours open my mind. contra: royal blue.

a feelingpro: ...to create. contra: exhaustion.

and as a last question, where should people go to hear the greatest? live, online, CD...

live — because its the most authentic moment. CD — because it's the musical work we created.

many thanks, dear nadja, for this inter-view. It was a pleasure. all the best for your personal and musical future.

IntErvIEw & photographS: ow

www.thEgrEatESt.ch

«a feeling to create.»

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n a d j a

k I l c h h o f E r

space creatures

63I l lUStrat Ion: jonathan SchElkEr

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65

Outside the window, it‘s dark and foggy. I don‘t have any vitamin D supplements ready and no daylight lamp in my room. the struggle for contenment is never as ardous as in the winter months.

So, i can‘t stop asking myself: would our personality have evolved for the easier going if we had been born in a place with more sun?

photographS: ol IvEr wüESt

a Ser Ial OF COll aGeS By NOeMI SPIelMaNN

Kathar ina Schumacher, Hamburght tp://w w w.f l ick r.com/photos/kathmar ie/

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74

theof

EventsBlackRockIsland

a magmamag story full of love, suspense and mystery!

75

september 26, 1967

«a bag?», the woman behind the counter asked in a careless manner. her face was marked by the lack of sleep and by a huge amount of boredom, deep down, somewhere under her thick make up. leila was always trying to be friendly. respect and politeness belonged to the values she had been raised with. but frankly, what would it matter today? in fact, she thought for a moment, to yell something at the woman. but she didn‘t know what. «i‘m fine, thanks», leila answered. she noticed that those were actually the first words she uttered today. grabbing the hair dye, leila walked out of the store. the day was amazingly beautiful. it pissed her off. whenever leila imagined doing it for real, she had a grey and dull day in mind. but in a certain manner she knew that she was always imagining things over the top, even her suicide... what would it matter now any-way? nevertheless, her bag was now filled with all the things she needed. hair dye, super lash extension mas-cara. a new dark red and black patterned silk dress, expensive perfume and sleeping pills.

leila went down the long street to her flat. she had walked this street an uncountable number of times be-fore, and still it looked quite different today. the bright colonial houses seemed to have grown. the trees were taller, the road was longer. for a moment, she was surprised to feel something related to joy, when she looked at the street restaurant, with people dining out-doors. the sun was slowly setting on black rock island,

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but still glistening on the upper windows of the street row. in her mind, leila went through her day, checking if she had done all the things she wanted to. with each step of her old, wooden stairway, she assured herself more and more to be on the right track. while opening her main door and entering, she was struck with the smell of her own place. the air was filled with the scent of her having cleaned today and with so many memories that were long gone and meaningless by now. leila carefully prepared everything for the event. she put something fancy on the record player, poured a glass of red wine. every now and then — while waiting for the hair color application time to be over — she took a sip of the black rock‘s famous wine roundtree hilltop and looked out of the window. eventually, she went onto the balcony for a smoke and observed her neigh-bors. it was a wonderful courtyard that always reminded her of ‹rear window›. however, nothing ever happened here. but still leila preferred this to tv.

by about 9 o‘ clock, leila was ready. she gazed into the mirror and took a close look at herself. a woman of 28 years, tall, beautiful, with chestnut brown hair. now at least. she had always wondered what she would look like with brown hair. it was better. she should have done it before. but leila knew ex-actly, that she had sworn to herself not to think too much on this particular evening. she had thought a lot before, the decision was made and there was no reason for loosing control now. so leila peacefully turned down the volume of connie francis singing and emptied the wine. good! the setting was per-fect! low light, everything nice and clean. over the sink, she opened the bot-tle with the sleeping pills. in one strict movement, she poured as many in to her hand as possible, a few of them dropping into the sink. for a moment, she trembled. it was right. it was the decision she had made. and she was used to deciding for herself... just when leila wanted to raise her hand, she stopped: something made her turn to the side.

outside her bathroom window was an eery humming. unable to recognize the sound or its source, she slowly stepped to the milky glass window and was about to open it, when a light suddenly struck her. leila didn‘t know what to think. she was on the 6th floor, and opposite her bathroom window there was nothing but a brick-stone wall. for an instant, leila was scared. there was a wobbly feeling. still she was willing to open the opaque window, when sud-denly the sound from the phonograph turned louder by itself. the pompous music of connie francis‘ ‹malagueña› resounded throughout the room. and while the blaze outside the window got brighter and seemed to change co-lor, leila‘s pulse rose to unknown heights. she felt something warm inside and yet she was frightened. the bathroom window began to slightly quiver. rays of light struck her green eyes. leila didn‘t dare to move or breath. in the color-fully illuminated bathroom, leila was standing there, in her new silk dress, slee-ping pills all over the floor.

to bE contInUEd...

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n A d j A k I l c h h o F e r S a I D S H e W a S B O r N O N

a H O t M O N D a y a t 7 . 2 4 P M a N D S H e l I K e S a N y

F O r M O F e G G S F O r a N y K I N D O F B r e a K F a S t .

W e B e l I e v e H e r .

« float for now. wh er ever th e wI n D may take you. take a gooD look aroun D. grow as you paDDle along untI l you know you r way.»

m I r I A m m u r A ‘ S D a y O F B I r t H W a S a M O N D a y .

I t W a S 9 . 3 5 I N t H e e v e N I N G . N O W a D a y S S H e

S W I M S v e r y F I N e W I t H O u t S W I M t u B e S .

y O u M a y P a D D l e O v e r t O w w w . m I r I a m m u r a . C h

j o n A T h A n s c h e l k e r W a S B O r N O N a

P r O B a B l y r a I N y M O N D a y M O r N I N G a t 8 : 0 8 ,

t O e v e r y B O D y ‘ S j O y . N O W H e ‘ S M a K I N G

a M a G a z I N e .

W r I t e H I M I F y O u l I K e a t j S @ M a G M a M a G . C H

n o e m I s p I e l m A n n a C t u a l l y W a S B O r N O N a

t u e S D a y M O r N I N G . I t W a S 3 : 0 3 . S H e H a S 1 6 ‘ 0 0 0

P H O t O S , M a D e W I t H H e r C e l l P H O N e .

S e e S O M e O F t H e M a t w w w . n o e m I s p I e l m a n n . C h

contributions by

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o l I v e r W ü e s T W a S N ‘ t H e r e u N t I l O N e C O l D

t H u r S D a y e v e N I N G , 0 : 1 5 . N O W H e l I K e S H e a t

S e a t I N G B u t N O t M I x e D M e D I a S .

W r I t e H I M I F y O u l I K e a t O W @ M a G M a M a G . C H

« everyth I ng may D I sappear s uDDen ly an D un expeCteDly.I try to CatC h I t b ut I t j u st g o es away an D n ever Co m es baC k .. . »

x I A o q u n W u C H O S e a F r I D a y N I G H t F O r H e r

a r r I v I N G a t 4 : 1 5 . a N D F O r t u N a t e l y , S H e ‘ S S t I l l

H e r e . F I N D M O r e O F H e r W O r K a t w w w . w u C n . C h

« th e poem s Dep ICt th e mystICal man I festatIon of th e n ext quantum leap: evolutIon I n human Con sCIou s n es s . wh en Con sCIou s n es s an D s ubCon sCIou s n es s r ealIgn I n an altru I stIC man n er, m eta- Con sCIou s n es s I s bor n.»

s h e e n A z e n z W a S B O r N I N t H e M O r N I N G O F a

S a t u r D a y a t 8 : 0 0 . a F e W y e a r S l a t e r S H e

B e G a N W r I t I N G .

th IS ISSUE of magmamaga zInE waS crEatEd and Ed ItEd by

ol IvEr wüESt and jonathan SchElkEr. copyrIght for all

workS prESEntEd wIthIn StIll bElong to thE rESpEctIvE artISt.

fEEl frEE to vISIt US EIthEr on magmamag.Ch

or lIkE US on faCebook.om/magmamagazIne

covEr photography by olIvEr wüESt

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s e n d u s y o u r o r I g I n a l w o r k

a n d a r t I S t S t a t E m E n t f o r

t h e n e x t i s s u e .

p l e a s e s e n d u n t i l

m a r c h 1 9 . t h a n k s !

s e n d t o

m a g m a m a i l @ m a g m a m a g . c h

magmamater ial?

81

Be in it.submissionfor thenext issue

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is open.Glue

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magmamagazine #1