By Michael Hughes
and here I ought to write something smart about realities, time, presence, etc.... but I'm to tired. So you'll have to just enjoy the rest of his Souvenir Photoset on flickr. He's been around. And think of something smart yourself.
Last night I went and saw this show, "Fallen From The Sky" by the Circo da Madrugada. Taking place in a park in Ørestaden surrounded by tall buildings from where the performers entered, sliding fastly hundreds of meters on suspended wires. The visual impact of the whole thing and the proximity of the performers - flying around right above ones head and running about in the crowd - really gave a sense of presence. Extremely nice.
Only drawback was the rather annoying narrator. The story so banal it would have stood much stronger had the performance been allowed to speak for itself.
photo by P-Real
If you are in Copenhagen this weekend go to see Halfmachine on their new ship. Robot-performance-underground-arty-farty stuff. Submarine ballet, floating interactive flamethrowers, sounds, etc... - all together a living world of eclectic imagery.
Or check out some of the other events that's part of the wonderful and brand new Metropolis Biennale
This video is based on data from the Visible Human Project which I wrote about back in '05. The aim of the project "is the creation of complete, anatomically detailed, three-dimensional representations of the normal male and female human bodies. ... The male was sectioned at one millimeter intervals, the female at one-third of a millimeter intervals."
It's the best video of this project I found on the net. It really shows how different sections can be cut through the 3D model, giving some rather unusual perspectives on it. I even quite like the music.
Made by Les Frère Lefdrup ...
And now of to bed with sweet dreams of traveling through bodies... I'll be good soon and post some proper stuff... promise ... boy-scout honour ... in the near, near future... it's just that not only did my feet stay in Greece - so did most of my fingers on my right hand and a few on the left. Difficult to type. And the net-connection is really slow too.
Home again. And I have not found my feet here yet. After two weeks of architectural hedonism. I seem to have left them behind. I think I know when it happened.
The last couple of days I'd been looking forward to the fresh Copenhagen breeze, the cool sheets of my bed, perhaps even a little dusty rain...
I guess also for other travellers than myself the turning point arrives as we approach the airport check-in. Nearing it one begin to sense something. At first it's a low mutter. Then sprawled clusters of strangers. Finally forming into the dradful line of fellow countrymen. Reminding you what you are going back to. This could have been anticipated but is blissfully forgotten. Mentally surpressed. You find yourself in a world of arguing parents, trying to get ahead in line, complaining, taking bloody ages... And you're forced to stand there with them. Sharing loud stories of local incompetence. Not even aboard the plane - but already engulfed in dreary Danishness.
And that's when my feet left me.
