cuts, explosions, veils. Add music. Persistency, monotony and continuous
transformation. A certainty, a certainty of fear and, at the same time,
a certainty of hope.
In a constant exchange between inside and outside, outside and inside.
A metamorphosis of anonymity and intimacy. Theaters of war, distant and
yet very near.
Collapsing houses, tanks, jet fighters,
abandoned children, people fleeing, a flower laid across a corpse. Relentless
and yet brittle. It is not the mere factuality, but rather like looking
into a mirror that develops cracks and vibrates.
Behind this the silent presence of a hermaphrodite.
The presence constructs itself, falls apart, is severed and layered, and
it emerges anew again and again. The naked, yet serviceable body as a foil,
a vulnerable but powerful Here. He/she endures, sustains. Unbearable, but
here. The shimmer of hope, a distant certainty, amid the ruins, in the
face of the ruins.
The images that are always the same, the
rhythm that is always the same. Persistence and monotony that are not worn
down, that do not resign themselves; they drive a knowledge out of fine
cracks, a certain insight that yet remains constantly fragile. Fragile,
made of glass, thin as a wisp, delicate, but intense and watchful.
A certainty that is longing. An eroticism,
the different eroticism. The certainty of an eroticism that does not arrive
but endures. Revolting desires, at once a longing and a rebellion.
The im/perfection of the hermaphrodite,
a distant presence, a silent power, an angel. A delicate veil not evaporating,
but remaining a body perceived. Here, in the midst of the ruins and cracks
without becoming part of them. It withstands and endures, emerging and
vanishing, and in the silent scream of the music.
Linz, July 1995
(Extract from "The Body Transparent.
On the Work of M. Klonaris and K. Thomadaki" )
Translated from German by