Yebwiersma - Editiorial, Writings

A selection of writings and editorial contributions. - The latest issue of Mister Motley 'Half Sugar, Half Sand' deals with recent Dutch history seen through the eyes of contemporary artists. The editorial staff invited me to be part of their 'think tank' for this volume and come up with ideas, texts and artists' references related to the several topics involved. Our aim was to create a 'multi-coloured, critical note' to the official Dutch history canon, 2012.

Being part of the editing team (2011) of the European On Air Mobility Network I created several photographs, illustrations and an article called
'A Song Adrift' - A fragment;

Sometimes I freeze¹.


 

Whenever this happens, whenever I waver, temporarily incapable of moving forward, lacking the quality of wandering freely, I return. To the beginning, to Questions Of Travel²;
 

 

What if Clouds cease to rove around?

What if Hail retires?
What if Wind slows down?

What if Snow forgets to fall?

What if Air can’t collide?

What if Thunder remains silent?

What if Skies close their windows?

 

What if you and I stayed at home? What if you and I can’t dance? What if All of Us would fail to nurture the ability to be rearranged?
 

Possible Scenario: When we solidify, be irresponsive to change, to motion, our vital tissues and cells – the foundation of our existence, of our cultures– will likely suffer from inflammatory ailments like severe soreness and inflexibility.
 

Let’s not go there, you and I, to the land of troublesome stiffness, to that grim place where off-roads and spontaneous actions seem perilous and slippery. Whereas, if we would narrow down our mental and physical cruising range, don’t be surprised to stumble upon a future situation where less and less encounters between you and me, between Here and Elsewhere take place. Soon, we will estrange from one another and loose the notion of ‘otherness'.
 

In order to refute this staggering forecast – I don’t see a world without you – let’s make a vow. Now. Promise me, that you and everyone we know shall never stop stretching and strengthen those delicate tendons and muscles that hold us together: the human condition.
 

Do you remember Bruce Lee’s Warrior Journey? On which he unfolded that the only way not to freeze is to adapt, to be shapeless like water?
 

Streams keep travelling, travelling.
 

And do you recall your physics teacher scribbling down Newton’s formula on the kinetic energy of rigid bodies, over and over onto the chalkboard until it glued into the system? Let’s not forget Isaac’s basic principles on the power of objects in motion.
 

Especially in the midst of chaos, in the midst of a standstill, mobility skills matter more than ever. Accordingly, as long as you and I find eclectic ways, carefully paved with endurance, generosity and wit, to open up those windowpanes³, we will have room for one more folded Sunset; still quite warm. 
 

Accidental Pleasures.  Article written for conference plus publication on 'Re-Tooling residencies; a closer look on the mobility of art professionals'. An initiative by CCA Ujazdowski Castle, Warsaw, 2011. - A fragment;

Dear artist, let's go on a trip. 
What shall we bring?

Neon Lights

Laughter

Party Supplies

Emergency Blankets

Vertical Clouds

Large Windows

Pine trees

Brainstorms

High-Rises

Whirlwinds

..

..

Let's surprise ourselves today and NOT take the highway, but follow the road less travelled by.

Recently I wrote down a passage written by the author, Rebecca Solnit, who stated in her book The Field Guide to Getting Lost: 

^{to be lost is to be fully present, is to be capable of being in uncertainty and mystery}

^{to be lost is to be fully present, is to be capable of being in uncertainty and mystery}

^{to be lost is to be fully present, is to be capable of being in uncertainty and mystery}

^{to be lost is to be fully present, is to be capable of being in uncertainty and mystery}

^{to be lost is to be fully present, is to be capable of being in uncertainty and mystery}

Like a mantra, I'm reading this line, over and over. She's right; in order to find inspiration and materials to create intriguing and merciless artworks, you have to allow yourself to travel within this field of uncertainty and mystery. 

It's not always easy though, though maintain a crisp state of mind in which there's plenty of room for serendipitous experiments. Daily preoccupations and worries lurk around the corner and can keep you from roaming around. Losing yourself is serious business. It requires full dedication and time, time to travel. 

Inwards and Outwards.

Of course, there are many ways in which to undertake an illuminating journey. I'm not suggesting that you always need to bring your passport. You don't necessarily need to go far to feel like playing again; there are many ways to revitalize:

- Start Running 

- Organize A Lecture Series

- Lye Down In The Grass

- Build A Fire

- Make Out

- Get Bored 

- Learn Tapdancing

- Buy A Bottle Of Something

- See The Library

But, what if this doesn't do the trick, what if you keep longing?

 

It's Not Easy To Live  Under All This Hair - Article on the work and thoughts of Kristina Benjocki. For Mister Motley, 2009.  

Fragment 1 - Vermoeid kijkt Kristina me aan. Haar mond zit volgepropt met haar. Ze lijkt haar eigen staart te willen opeten. Ondertussen probeert ze me iets te vertellen. Telkens weer zingt ze hetzelfde liedje in een onverstaanbare taal. Hou toch op. Straks stik je nog, denk ik. Kokhalzend verdwijnt ze even later uit beeld.  
 

Fragment 2 - In je videoperformances lijk je op zoek te gaan naar een tijdloos gewricht waarin alles vloeibaar wordt. Waar schuld en onschuld, leven en dood, bewustzijn en onderbewustzijn samensmelten. Zingen is bij jou gelijk aan overgeven en spinnen gelijk aan flauwvallen. 

Kristina: Ik merk dat ik tijdens deze fysiek intensieve performances een haast kinderlijke energie kan losmaken in mezelf die in staat is om dat wat onverenigbaar lijkt een hernieuwde en abstractere betekenis te geven. Ik zweef als het ware rond in mijn eigen relativiteitsprincipe. Ken je dat gevoel dat je als kind eindeloos bleef ronddraaien op een pianokruk of dat je geblinddoekt op de tast door het huis liep? Of dat je net voordat je in slaap valt, je lijkt te vallen in een diep gat? Het is een lekker maar ook een griezelig gevoel. Je hebt even geen controle meer over je handelen. Je valt. In het leven. En in de dood. Het omarmen van 'Het Grote Vallen' maakt me op de een of andere manier minder angstig. Ik weet soms ook niet zo goed hoe het werkt.