One final Push Towards Berlin and the Berlinale!

Today is the day where I have to blast through everything on my plate. There are a few things to finish at work, one lecture to give (on His Girl Friday and Citizen Kane) with an excercise on editing and scene analysis, and then I get to run to the airport.

I'll try and be good and post consistently. Last year I discovered that wifi available at a couple central locations at the film festival. I'll try and plan my screenings so there is time to write and talk about the films I'm seeing. The Berlinale can get a little overwhelming but if plotted out correctly I'll manage.

I'll try and identify the films we want to screen, hopefully talk to some of the filmmakers. And if there is time, maybe I'll hit an event or two.

Regardless of what happens I'll be here writing about it.
If I survive today that is....

Trapped at Narita

So, it appears that returning the U.S. eludes me. Here I sit at Tokyo Narita Airport.
After being rushed through security (you have to go through security even when just changing international flights??) to catch the plane I discovered that the flight was delayed. Actually, not just delayed scrapped. It turns out that upon landing the plane hit the ground with one of the engines and the plane had to be repaired. On one hand I am glad that they caught it before we were halfway over the Pacific. But on the other hand, here I sit. Ultimately, a 90 minute layover becomes a five hour one.

To top it off I am still a little woozy from being sick so I can't even go and have a couple of drinks to pass the time. There is a sushi place as well but do I dare? I guess it has to be better (and safer!) than the food on Air China. Unfortunately the thought of eating raw fish right about now doesn't seem pleasant. I bet it would be awesome but I'm not sure I want to sit on a twelve hour flight with that rumbling through my stomach. Instead I sit here with my bottle of water and blogging. Said bottle of water, a magazine, and a couple of cheap assed tchotckys set me back $25. Um, yea.

I think I am going to freak out if I don't get this journey on the road. I have now been up for about fifteen hours and running on four hours sleep. I am not pleased.
I just overheard United announce the cancellation of another flight due to mechanical issues. They aren't having a good day. Aren't they one of those companies where the employees own the stock? If so, they really need to work on getting their mechanics to get their sh*t together. Seriously.

The photo above was taken in front of some building in Beijing. Everyone seemed to be taking pictures of it and it was pretty heavily guarded so I thought I'd join in. I have no idea where I am.

October 17, 2009 Art day in Beijing.

Today was amazing. A bit overwhelming but amazing. I sit here in my hotel. I am feeling a bit relieved that it went so well. I can’t give enough thanks to Megan Connolly and her sister KC. Today was awesome. I am sitting here looking out my window and Beijing spreads before me like a blanket of lights and I’m not quiet sure what to feel. I was really overwhelmed by Seoul. I think that was due to the fact that I did it on my own. I navigated it alone and it often felt like I was the outsider. People were certainly friendly but there was never any engagement and I ultimately felt that I was never truly caught up in the scene. To a certain degree I have resisted Beijing. And a lot of the reason is that this is the place. It is where things are happening and I do understand just how complicated that statement is. There were many moments today where we all made the analogy to Chelsea and how the art neighborhoods here have been co-opted by the government. There is recognition on the part of the government that art is good business. In the run up to the Olympics the entire 798 district was transformed. Streets were paved and where there used to be “mom and pop” art galleries now stands a giant car park. 798 is more like an art Disneyland than anything else. While there are some major galleries here a lot of the spaces have become little tourist shops and cafes. It is weird. There are some great spaces here that are showing interesting work but you really have to dig for them.

October 15th. Beijing Day One

Above is a shot of Cao Chang Di village.

I made it to Beijing. After a late night at the Hotel in Seoul, followed by a very early morning (which proved completely unnecessary) I arrived. I honestly have nothing to complain about. Did I just write that? Perhaps I should reexamine. Customs was pretty simple although we all had to walk through some machine that monitored body temperature. I imagine if it was above a certain threshold you were dragged aside and probed for swine flu. There was an area to the side that was curtained off. I heard several people talking from behind it (rather excitedly I might add) so I figured they were detained for our safety, or course. What was interesting is that, while waiting to clear immigration, we were separated into two groups: Chinese nationals and foreigners. While the Chinese were waiting in line at immigration, or security, or whatever he was, would walk up and down the lines of people waiting and shout at them. Seriously…SHOUT at them. To do what, I have no idea. And then when I got to the counter to hand in my entrance form the guy stopped me, made me stand in a particular spot and matched my passport photo to my face. I was kinda offended. Do I look that much older than the photo? Or do all of us white people look alike?

Anyway, I had a map to the Caochangdi Workshop with directions in Chinese and English. I handed it to the cabbie, who took a moment too long looking at it. I started having flashbacks to Seoul. But it was cool. I think. We were stopped leaving the terminal by cops. I guess they stop all the cabs and take note of where they are taking foreigners. I was hoping this was to stop me from being taken for a ride (literally) but now that I am writing this I wonder if they are tracking me. Hmmmm. Anyway, I truck along in the cab. It is actually much nicer than many Boston cabs I’ve been in. We drive and we drive and we drive. Finally we enter into a little village and I start seeing art galleries and the like. Cool, I’m thinking, we are getting somewhere. And then he keeps driving. This time I say something right away. I don’t care if he doesn’t understand me we are driving past where I think we should be. He stops looks at the map and realizes he went the wrong way as well. We turn around and he finds the little tiny road where we should have turned. Well, calling it a “road” is a bit grandiose. It is a track into a walled village space. There are people in the road, people digging up the road, bricks and a cement mixer, just a whole lot of crap. We come to a point where we can’t go any further. The driver starts freaking a bit. I pull out my phone (yes! It works here!) and call the woman who is meeting me. She has me hand the phone to the driver. They talk for a bit and then here comes Odette from out of nowhere shouting at the cabbie. I have made it. Extremely relieved I grab my shit and head out with her. We walk a block away from the chaos of the village, enter a big metal gate and into silence.



The space is amazing (picture is above). One half is an old factory. This houses the studios and living spaces. The other half of the space is made up of homes designed by the noted Chinese architect and troublemaker Ai Wei Wei. He was set to be in residence at MIT this fall but had a run in with the authorities and is now in a hospital in Germany with severe head injuries. He is a friend of Wu Wenguang, the artist who owns and runs Caochangdi. There is a large black box theatre, a library and a kitchen. I drop my stuff off in my room – pretty much a dormitory space – but not bad. Comfortable. Odette gives me the tour and I learn that the showers are, how shall I put this, rustic? It is two little shower berths with a wooden wall between them, and a shower hose. I think I might just have to be dirty for a couple of days. Yeah….

Alive and Kicking

Oh goodness. I have finally recovered. I had prescription medicine for just such an occasion and I finally took it yesterday. Yea, I probably should have taken it right away because I recovered pretty quickly. It is amazing what an antibiotic can do.

I have a great deal of things to tackle today so I am off but I wanted to go ahead and post some writings I made in Beijing. Since I couldn't post them there I'll do them now.
I made the mistake of reading them and they sound totally stupid but I resisted editing them. I did add a comment to one of them. Hopefully you'll enjoy.

Peace out.

The image above is from a party I went to on my last night in Beijing. An artist was hosting a giant event in his loft for his 18 meter painting. It was being sent off to the Denver Museum of Art. I'll post more details of that event later. It was something to behold.

Let's just say, a woman dressed like Tia Carrera in Wayne's World doing cover tunes.

Violently Ill in Singapore

I have been in Singapore one whole day. I have ventured out to the 7/11 next door to the hotel. That is all. I woke up this morning feeling a little odd. That odd feeling blossomed into full blown food poisoning. At least I think that is what it is. It was too sudden and too violent to be anything else.
I have to give my lecture tomorrow and do studio visits. My day has been spent moving from bed to desk to bed to 7/11 and back again. I basically work for a couple of hours, sleep for one hour (or so) and then repeat with occasional trip to the store to get more water. I am really not pleased. The one place where I knew that the food was going to be kick ass and I can't even eat anything.

Don't tell me the universe doesn't have a sense of humour.

Oh, and directly below my window is the air conditioning unit for the building next door so all I hear is the sound of machinery - constantly. It sounds like I am in the middle of a hurricane. Good times.

Can I Call It The Day From Hell If It Ends On A Good Note?

Yesterday I had an incident. I knew I had it coming. Things had gone far too smoothly. I was navigating the city. I had all of my shit together. I was awesome. People bowed down before me. And then it happened. I f**ked up. Not just a little, a whole lot. See I had this meeting at an art center out of town. Actually, it was in a little town that was about forty minutes outside of Seoul. I had to take a bus there. I knew things were shaky when I got on the bus going the wrong way. But that worked out fine. I passed the stop I should have gotten on. I knew then that I was going the right way. Yes. I got cocky. I relaxed and started reading my book. I took pictures out of the window. It was good times.

And then I realised I had been on the bus for about an hour. I thought "perhaps it was the traffic? Maybe we are running late. Surely the bus driver would have told me when we got to my stop?" Um, no. My stop, had I known what it actually looked like, passed a LONG time ago. I move to the front of the bus. I try and talk to the driver. This is when I realise that I hadn't written down my destination in Korean. I had no map and no idea where I was headed. I try to talk to the driver. He thinks I say something else and goes "Oh yeah! I know where you are going!" and points ahead. We keep driving.

We end up in some far away town. He pulls over, quite proud of himself I must say, and proclaims us there. I put my head in my hands and try not to freak the f**k out. I have no phone, no map and no freaking idea where I am. What am I going to do?? I am very, very close to losing it. It is at this point that a bunch of high school kids get on the bus. He begins questioning them one by one "do you speak english?" and pointing at me. Finally a group of girls push one of their friends forward and she tries talking to me, very haltingly. I had visions of myself being thrust in front of a group of Korean tourists and being forced to translate! But she knows where I want to go. A fifteen year old Korean high school student knows where the Nam June Paik Art Center is. Her and a friend take me off the bus at one stop and stand with me till a bus going back towards Seoul pulls up. She tells the driver where I need to go. I thank them profusely and throw myself into the front seat. Crisis averted.

I make it to the Nam June Paik Art Center two hours late for my appointment with the curator. Nice.

So, what have I learned? Never, ever forget to write shit down. Oh yeah, and don't believe T-Mobile when they tell you your phone will work. Rent a friggen phone people. You never know when you'll need it.

The photo at top is me, after getting on the bus. Still confused but on my way!
Excited!

The photo below is me, finally heading in the right direction, having been on a bus for almost three hours. Seriously.