08.	Hloa ¬ Quattrocento, 2007, akril na platnu / acrylic on canvas, 45 x 200 cm

 

 Mesta in menjave. 2.

V velikem mestu Hloi se ljudje, ki hodijo mimo po ulicah, ne poznajo. Ko se vidijo, si drug o drugem predstavljajo tisoč reči, srečanja, do katerih bi moglo priti med njimi, pogovore, presenečenja, nežnosti, ugrize. A nihče nikogar ne pozdravi, pogledi se prekrižajo za sekundo in potlej zbežijo stran, iščejo druge poglede, se ne ustavijo.

Mimo gre dekle, ki vrti sončnik naslonjen na ramo, in malo tudi okrogle boke. Mimo gre črno oblečena ženska, ki kaže vsa svoja leta, z nemirnimi očmi pod tančico in drhtečimi ustnicami. Mimo gre tetoviran orjak; mladenič z belimi lasmi; pritlikavka; dvojčici, oblečeni v škrlat. Nekaj steče med njimi, nekakšna izmenjava pogledov, kot črte, ki povezujejo eno podobo z drugo in rišejo puščice, zvezde, trikotnike, dokler niso vse kombinacije v hipu izčrpane in stopijo na prizorišče druge osebe: slepec z gepardom na verigi, kurtizana s pahljačo iz nojevih peres, efeb, ženska-kanon. Tako se med temi, ki se po naključju skupaj zatečejo pred dežjem pod stebrišče ali se gnetejo pod šotorom na bazarju ali se ustavijo, da bi na trgu poslušali godbo, odvijajo srečanja, zapeljevanja, ljubkovanja, orgije, ne da bi si izmenjali eno samo besedo, ne da bi drug drugega oplazili s prstom, skoraj ne da bi dvignili oči.

Polten drget venomer strese Hloo, najbolj brezmadežno vseh mest. Če bi moški in ženske začeli živeti svoje najbolj bežne sanje, bi vsaka prikazen postala oseba, s katero bi se začela zgodba zasledovanj, hlinjenja, nesporazumov, trčenj, zatiranja, in vrtiljak fantazij bi se ustavil.

Italo Calvino, Nevidna mesta, Ljubljana, Mladinska knjiga, 1990 (Knjižnica Kondor), str.32.

Mali Benares, Hloa / Small Benares, Chloe, pogled na postavitev / instalation view, Galerija Equrna, Ljubljana, Slovenija / Slovenia, foto / photo: Dejan Habicht,  Petra Žen,  arhiv umetnice /  artist archive

Drading Cities 2

In Chloe, a great city, the people who move through the streets are all strangers. At each encounter, they imagine a thousand things about one another; meetings which could take place between them, conversations, surprises, caresses, bites. But no one greets ayone; eyes lock for a second, then dart away, seeking other eyes, never stopping.

A girl comes along, twirling a parasol on her shoulder, and twirling slightly also her round hips. A woman in black comes along, showing her full age, her eyes restless beneath her veil, her lips trembling. A tattoed giant comes along; a young man with whitehair; a female dwarf; two girls, twins dressed in coral. Something runs among them, an exchange of glances like lines that connect one figure with another and draw arrows, stars, triangles, until all combinations are used up in a moment, and other characters come on to the scene: a blind man with a cheetah on a leash, a courtesan with an ostrich-plume fan, an ephebe, a Fat Woman. And thus, when some people happen to find themeselves together, taking shelter from the rain under an arcade, or crowding beneath an awning of the bazaar, or stopping to listen to the band in the square, meeting, seductions, copulations, orgies are consummated among them without a word exchanged, without a finger touching anything, almost without an eye raised.

A voluptuous vibration constantly stirs Chloe, the most chaste of cities. If men and women began to live their ephemeral dreams, every phantom would become a person with whom to begin a story of pursuits, pretences, misundersatandings, clashes, oppressions, and the carousel of fantasies would stop.

 

Italo Calvino, Invisible Cities, (translated from the Italian by William Weaver), ©Picador, Pan Books, 1974.