Wrote the text “JOBINTERVIEW” on my studio wall (in cat size letters) to keep me grounded. It’s written in turquoise. If I could start over I’d write “THE DANCE COMPANY”. There is ample room in my studio so I still might.
I cycled to Manhattan today to meet other residents from Finland at the Fciny offices. Crossing the Williamsburg Bridge felt like entering a new world. The skyline was thick with smoke. Someone had written cynical words on the cycling lane pavement: “Self absorbed”, “Smothered”, “Rich”… etc. The words, written in faint white spray paint formed a welcome mat for entering Manhattan. A lot of cyclists sing while they ride and some play music from their boom boxes.. They sing to make themselves noticeable on the road – Being visible makes riders more safe (the same logic applies to working with horses). Americans speak and laugh loudly. I guess this habit could be read as a safety measure: When people hear each other perform they can locate each other and set their bearings straight. Are people who talk loudly afraid of something?
My time in New York feels like an investment. I now have 177 days to yield profits from this trip. I operate on a Day-Currency which is slipping trough my fingers when I make bad investments (like wait in traffic lights). Messaged Jesse and plotted new Ore.e Ref. services:
- “Product photos in New York service for Artisans”
- “The Temporary New York Sock Repair service”
In the first service artisans could send their craft items for me in New York to have them photographed against the Manhattan skyline. The second service is self explanatory: People could send their socks to me in NYC and I’d fix them (and take photos of them against the Manhattan skyline and wash them in the East River before sending them back).
This city is teaching me about scales. I have some ideas formulating on this matter but nothing clear yet (things felt clear for a second on the bridge but I forgot everything when I returned home).
We manufactured eight Trans-Horse medals from recycled aluminium with Jesse over the weekend. I’ll send five of them to Brussels to honour the participants of the Trans-Horse Parade. The Parade was a part of a series of horse related performances we prepared for Signal #6 Festival / Cifas last Autumn. Casting the aluminium was relatively easy (we succeeded in making one medal in 20minutes!). The horse in the medal is The Awaited Son (A drawing based on the photo can be downloaded from OpenClipArt). I’m really exited to send a medal to the Cavalry department of the General Reserve of the Federal Police of Belgium! Other recipients are horse stables around Brussels and the staff of the Schaerbeek recycling center.
We are preparing the third Horse & Performance course for the Theatre Academy Helsinki with Pietari.
I’m preparing a performance for the Kone foundation Lauttasaari manor spring party with the Neighborizome crew. Repurposing an old Trans-Horse ethical infta text for a small publication I plan to share with my audience.
Jesse was selling his art at the Senaatintori open-air market during the summer. A tourist from USA asked if he could pay for an item with dollars. “People laugh at Americans who believe that they can pay for stuff using dollars in Europe. But Americans are right. I accepted his dollars with out hesitation!” He told me (Bitterness and revenge = Class awarenesses and success). He gave me the dollars so that I can use them in New York but I’m thinking about framing them.
Gave a lecture on myself as a post-humanistic/sustainability artist by request of Riku Saastamoinen for 40 art-pedagogy from Sibelius Academy, Aalto Uni. and Theater Academy (Dance department). The talk took 1,5h. Run out of time towards the end due to personal therapeutic blabbering about my Marxistic heritage. Also framed contemporary dance as movement steered by fossil fuels. My reasoning was that indoor heating, insulation and plastic soft materials used for flooring have made it possible to move “grounded” (on the floor). Horse videos (Jesse riding nude 2014 & Otto Karvonen collaboration from this spring) got a really good response.
Visited New Performance Turku, assisted Tomasz Szrama to walk on the ceiling, received rough critique of a performance/publication made seven years ago, attended a very boring “How To Do Things With Performance -seminar”, witnessed a shouting performance by Hiroko Tsuchimoto and finally a salad ingredients voting performance by Denis Romanovski.
And that’s were it happened.
Romanovski placed various ingredients on the table. He talked about soviet traumas after which each audience member was given a vote. We were granted the right to vote on the ingredients of the salad. Majority of the ingredients were vegan friendly with the exception of eggs and mayonnaise. I gave my vote for the potatoes. As it was time to select whether or not to include eggs in the salad a shouting contests erupted.
Jesse and a person sitting next to him were the only ones to vote for eggs. Vegans were protesting and people started laughing. Someone rushed on stage and stole the bowl of eggs. While there was a lot of commotion and laughing I thought it might be fun to portray myself as an egg-rights advocate.
“Hi, I’m Eero. From the Egg-party. Have you considered voting our candidate Mr. Egg?” I asked a girl sitting next to me. She casted a weird smile. I thought she didn’t hear me so I continued louder: “Many consider voting mr. Egg to be in bad taste but I can guarantee that our representative mr. Egg is fresh!”. She smiled awkwardly. Everyone else was enjoying the commotion. Eventually the eggs were returned to the table and added to the salad despite the protest.
Then it hit me.
Egg translates as “muna” in Finnish which has a double meaning – It also means “balls”. Which meant that my joke on the election processing was most likely understood as a glorification of my genitalia. By the time I realized my error she had disappeared and I was stuck drinking beer with Jesse and eating democratically crafted Russian Salad.
I saw the girl later during the festival and felt like apologising. She bought a salad at a museum canteen and was walking to her table. I thought it would be best to clarify that I didn’t mean to bother her with my jokes the other night. “Hi!” I started joyfully. She was looking happy and I suddenly thought that maybe I was being paranoid with my interpretation. To steer away from a weird conversation or to save face I continued “Let me know if you want egg with you salad!”