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deutscheshausnyu · 4 years

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Interview with current writer-in-residence, Daniela Emminger

Daniela Emminger was born in 1975 in Upper Austria. She studied journalism & communication science in Vienna, worked as a copywriter in Berlin, and as an editor in Lithuania and Latvia. Since 2008, Daniela Emminger has lived in Vienna and works as a writer and freelance journalist. She received various scholarships and awards and is the author of several books. She was on the longlist of the Austrian Book Prize 2016 with Gemischter Satz and participated at the Festival for Literature in NYC & Washington in 2019 with her most recent novel Kafka mit Flügeln. Last autumn, her first theatre-play Zirkus. Braunau. – a political piece about the latest right-wing-populistic tendencies within Europe – was published, the book-version will follow 2020.

When did you first visit New York and what were your first impressions of this city, especially in comparison with your hometown, Vienna? What characteristics of New York do you find most appealing, especially as a writer?

My first time in New York was in March 2019 when I participated in the Festival Neue Literatur. I spent one week in the city and I really can’t find proper words to describe the atmosphere. I was thrilled. And overwhelmed with emotion. New York is sooooo fascinating from the very first second. There are all these skyscrapers, so you have to look up all the time. There are all these people and everyone is busy and heading towards something. There is this special (heart) beat you can feel in every move, in every place. For me New York is intangible. But I as a writer of course have to make things visible, audible, tangible through words. Also, a foreign place always has a strong influence on a person; the interplay of geography alters the identity of a character. It definitely makes a difference if you live and grow up in Vienna (in Europe) or New York (in the United States). Compared to New York, Vienna is a one-horse town. So I am sure that New York will change me as a person as well as a writer. It will change my way of absorbing and assimilating things, it will change my way of thinking and writing.

Before beginning your career as an author, you studied Advertising Management and Communication & Economics in Vienna – subjects that one might not immediately imagine as the educational background of an author who writes novels, plays, and short stories. How and when did you decide to become a professional author? Do you incorporate any knowledge or skills that you picked up during your studies into your writing?

It’s true that I started my career as a writer quite late in my thirties. But I already knew at the age of 14 that writing is and would be my destiny. I just felt it inside. And I realized soon that in my case the world was defined by words. It was just natural for me to write about my feelings, sorrows, aims and thoughts. Writing helped me to understand the world. I am words. And there are hundreds of untold stories inside me that will come to fruition one day. Though I grew up in a small village and in a family where becoming a writer – as a profession – was not an option. That’s why I studied something ordinary before I finally decided to quit my job in advertising. At that time I had three finished scripts in my pocket and sent them to different publishing houses. There is a point in life – and this might have to do with age and experience – when you have nothing to lose, when you don’t want to waste the rest of your life with half-hearted things.

What authors and/or works of literature have had the most influence on your career, writing, and style?

I love reading. I already devoured books when I was a child. Authors like Mira Lobe, Christine Nöstlinger were the stars of my childhood. Later on I read a lot of Thomas Bernhard, Elfriede Jelinek, also Russian Literature from Dostojewski to Tolstoi. I am a fan of Daniil Charms and Stanislaw Ignacy Witkiewicz who are known for their surreal style. I try to read contemporary literature from colleagues like Josef Winkler, Laura Freudenthaler, Teresa Präauer as well. I think at Austrian schools and universities the literary focus lies on European literature, but of course I also read American classics from authors like Paul Auster, John Steinbeck, Mark Twain, Edgar Allan Poe, Walt Whitman, Emily Dickinson.

In fact I really read a lot. The only genres I don’t like are detective/mystery stories and science fiction. And during my own writing process I have to stop reading completely, because the thoughts and the style of another author would definitely influence my own writing. At the moment I have Die New York Trilogie (City of Glass, Ghosts and The Locked Room) by Paul Auster on my bedside table.

In the works that you’ve published so far, is there an overarching theme that you want to explore or a particular question you want to answer that ties them all together? What is your creative process like and how do you come up with ideas for each novel, play, story, and essay?

In general I carry the themes that move me inside – sometimes it even takes years until they come to fruition. My work often deals with „the essentials of life“ – such as love, evanescence, transformation, courage, grief or the search for meaning. The main source of my ideas is my own experience, my own emotion and understanding of the world. Also external sources and influences – a poem I read, a conversation I hear, a person I meet – intentionally play a certain role. For example in Kafka With Wings my inspiration was based upon a number of personal losses, but also influenced by a poem called One Art by Elizabeth Bishop that I discovered at that time. I try to find a way to process these kinds of influences in my art.

I am also fond of mixing different genres. In my mind sometimes a fairy tale perfectly matches with facts and figures, with real things going on in the contemporary world. For example Kafka With Wings is a mixture of fiction and non-fiction. It is a wild and vivid journey through an invented world of imagination but at the same time it mirrors the real historical and recent situation of the foreign and mostly unknown country of Kyrgyzstan. I am hell-bent on giving birth to a story. I am fearless and uncompromising. For example, I recently finished a theatre play about Braunau, Hitler’s birthplace, and the latest right-wing populistic tendencies within Austria and Europe. It’s a political play and I had to spend several months in Braunau to do research. Now this might sound a little bit weird, but I bought myself a gorilla costume and every time I worked on the play I jumped into it. This had nothing to do with Mardi Gras, I used the costume as uniform, like a doctor his scrubs. It helped me to keep distance from the crazy Nazi stuff. Also there was plenty of space in it to lock up the right-wing populistic thoughts and tendencies. The costume enabled me to reflect on them in a safe and concentrated way. Also, gorillas – like apes in general – are very intelligent animals. I guess that the aura of the gorilla costume helped me to find a humane solution to the present and ever-increasing Nazi problem.

In your opinion and experience, what is the hardest part of the writing process? How do you overcome it?

I think being an author has a lot to do with discipline. The writing process is not a romantic one, you have to stay tuned, keep on thinking and writing day by day. I have fixed working hours, preferably in the morning from 6am to noon. Sometimes I have to throw away every single page but still the process of writing helps me to stay in motion. At some point a story gets stuck or complicated – especially when it is very complex and convoluted. Then you have to step back, do some analytic work regarding the plot, the characters, and the message in between the lines. Also research is hard work. For example it took me three years to write Kafka With Wings. After the second year I didn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel any more. I thought I ´d never finish this story. But I did. Step by step and day by day. So maybe the secret is to keep on going.

Your most recent novel, Kafka mit Flügeln (Kafka With Wings), follows an Austrian woman who embarks on a search for her long-lost, half-Kyrgyz friend from her childhood, who disappeared in his own search for his identity and origins. What was the inspiration behind this story? Why did you specifically choose Kyrgyzstan as the cultural background for the missing friend?

The idea of the story came to me some years ago in 2015. I felt I had to write about changes, losing things, loss in general. At that time I also discovered a poem by Elizabeth Bishop, called One Art, which had great influence on me. It’s about losing things, places and names and even bigger and more important things like relationships, countries or the own past, the own identity. It’s not that I hadn’t experienced any loss so far, for example my mother died in 2015, but I was luckily never involved in a war or had to flee from my country. So I was looking for a place in the world, where I – like my characters – felt completely lost: lost in translation, lost in space, even lost in evolution. And Kyrgyzstan was the perfect place.

I really knew nothing about this country, it was just a place on the map, not real for me. I didn’t speak a word of Kyrgyz or Russian. I didn’t know anybody there. It was really a big adventure for me to go there and somehow I was forced to get to know myself in a new way, to discover myself from a new perspective. And all because I wanted to share commonalities with my characters. I think that’s the way I generally work: I always have to be very close to my protagonists. I have to feel what they feel. I have to merge with them.

Also Kyrgyzstan is a very exciting and inspiring plot location. When I arrived there, I was hit by intense culture shock. But then I quickly dove into the Kyrgyz culture and the way of Kyrgyz living. For example I spent several weeks together with nomads high up in the mountains (at 4000 meters above sea level). Or I travelled through all different regions of the country (from West to East and North to South). Also I had to dive into the world of butterfly research for my book and therefore I joined a group of European lepidopterologists who were looking for rare butterfly species throughout the country. I learnt how to catch them, how to kill them technically and humanely, how to preserve them for observation and study. All these peculiarities finally became part of the story. You learn a lot about Soviet history and a foreign culture.

Without going into much detail about the story, can you explain why you chose the title Kafka with Wings?

The central theme of my book Kafka With Wings is metamorphosis. Butterflies play a central role as symbol for transformation and change. The insect goes through different stages of life until it has reached its final stage of existence. Now in my story I use this process of development in a metaphorical way: also people, things and even countries run through different stages of existence during their lifetime. They change, they become something different, and they sometimes are forced by external and internal circumstances to search for a new identity.

Kafka with Wings also references Franz Kafka, the Czech author, in the title. In fact my book is not a book about Kafka himself, he won’t appear in person in the plot, but still he has a certain influence on my writing. He and his thoughts are synonymous with change, transformation and strange things going on. Let’s consider his novel Die Verwandlung/The Metamorphosis, where his protagonist Gregor Samsa suddenly finds himself transformed into an insect. In German language we even use the word „kafkaesk“ to describe a situation or condition which is really strange and bizarre but also brilliant. So I think this is why I reference Kafka in my title.

If we may ask, what is your current/next project and what do you hope to achieve during your time as the Max Kade writer-in-residence at Deutsches Haus at NYU?

In fact I wanted to start a new project by the beginning of the year. It has to do with “homeland”, with “spiritual home”, with “home away from home”. At first I thought that the story has to take place in Aurach am Hongar, which is my birthplace and a very small village in Upper-Austria. I wanted to reflect on the special structures and relationships within a one-horse town and also write about hidden conflicts, problems and lies within a family. But then I was invited to New York and I am not sure now, if I can start this “homeland”-story here. In a way New York is the very reverse to Aurach am Hongar. But on the other hand: Is there a better place to think about your origin, your country, your identity, than somewhere far away from home? Another idea for my residency is of course to focus on New York, to walk through all the different boroughs of the city, to absorb all kind of people, conversations, impressions like a sponge, to let the city circulate in my veins, my brain, my body. This could end up as a poem, a thriller, a love story – who knows…

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deutscheshausnyu · 4 years

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Hi there! My name’s Jaap, and I’m one of the Program Assistants at Deutsches Haus!

I’m a sophomore at NYU studying Film and TV Production, with a minor in math. I am Dutch-Chinese and moved around a lot growing up, so I’ll always feel very at home in any international community. In New York, I love to explore the parks and all other kinds of hidden gems the city has to offer partially to scout filming locations but also just because it’s the best getaway from all the other noise.

The past summer I hitchhiked across Europe with a friend, and going through Germany was without a doubt a highlight of the trip. We met so many extremely nice people on the road and, with the help of my friend and my own proficiency in Dutch, I was able to engage in conversation with them also. We had longer stays in Frankfurt and Nuremberg, and I just loved the experience. I’d been to Germany on holiday with my family before, and even though there was less time to go visit museums and such on this trip, it somehow felt more immersive. It was after that that I wanted to continue learning German.

I’m very happy to be a part of the Deutsches Haus family and hope to see you around sometime!

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deutscheshausnyu · 4 years

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Hallo! My name is Jaelin and I have been a Program Assistant at Deutsches Haus for about 2 years now. I am studying psychology and studio art and work in a neuroscience laboratory part time.

My interest in the German speaking world started in middle school when I began to listen to German music. When I was 18, I spent the summer living alone in Cologne in order to begin learning German. I was also fortunate enough to spend my sophomore year at NYU Berlin. I absolutely love learning about art and literature in the German speaking world and have enjoyed being able to practice my Deutsch here at Deutsches Haus. Other than my love for German culture, I am a huge cat lover and stand-up comedy fan.

Hope to welcome you to the Haus!

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deutscheshausnyu · 4 years

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Hello! My name is Tony, and I’m delighted to be the Cultural Program Intern at Deutsches Haus at NYU. Born in Shanghai, China, I moved to New York 4 years ago for my undergraduate studies at NYU. As a “third culture kid,” I have much interest in issues regarding race, conflicting ideologies, and identity. I spent my first two years undeclared, until finally deciding to major in sociology. As for my nonacademic interests, I play the guitar and sing (yes I can play Wonderwall upon request). I am an avid fan of Manchester United F.C., and I spend a good deal of my free time playing, watching, and talking about soccer.

From ages 9-13, I lived in Antwerp, Belgium due to my father’s work. During these years, my family frequently went to Germany, and we made some good German friends. My fondest memories of Germany include playing in soccer tournaments in Düsseldorf, visiting the Black Forest, and participating in the Kölner Karneval. In the fall of 2017, I was fortunate enough to revisit Germany for a semester studying abroad at NYU Berlin.

Before I graduated in May, I worked at Deutsches Haus part-time as a Program Assistant. My current role as Cultural Program Intern involves promoting all the good things that Deutsches Haus has to offer. I’m excited to be incorporating the skills I’ve acquired from my previous internships in advertising. As someone who really believes in the Deutsches Haus mission, it’s a pleasure to be here.

Thank you for reading, and I’m looking forward to seeing you at Deutsches Haus!

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deutscheshausnyu · 4 years

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Interview with Current Writer-In-Residence, Theodora Bauer

Born in Vienna in 1990, Theodora Bauer studied Philosophy (Bachelor) and Communication Science (Master) at the University of Vienna. Her debut novel Das Fell der Tante Meri (Aunt Meri’s Fur) was published in 2014, followed by her second novel Chikago in 2017, both with Picus Verlag / Vienna. Her plays have been represented by Verlag Schultz & Schirm / Vienna since 2016. Her play papier.waren.pospischil won the first prize at a competition called "Die Freiheit des Lachens" at Salzburg State Theatre (Salzburger Landestheater) in 2017 and premiered there in 2019. In 2018, Theodora Bauer was awarded a prize by the Burgenland Foundation Theodor Kery for Chikago and a scholarship for playwrights by the Austrian Ministry of Culture for a play that she is currently working on. She was nominated for the Alpha Literary Prize 2018 for her second novel. In 2019, she received a literary award from the City of Vienna. Theodora Bauer is co-hosting the show „literaTOUR“ on the Austrian TV station ServusTV.

As part of her residency, Deutsches Haus at NYU will present a reading from Theodora Bauer’s recent novel Chikago, followed by a conversation with the acclaimed Germanist, writer, and mastermind of @neinquarterly, Eric Jarosinski. Theodora Bauer's novel follows the lives of three immigrants in early 20th-century America, exploring themes of hope and despair in the midst of social turmoil and personal tragedy. Please come join us for the reading and conversation on Friday, December 13, at 6pm, at Deutsches Haus at NYU

Have you visited New York before? What were your first impressions of this city? How does New York differ from Vienna, your home city?

Yes, I have visited New York before – but never like this: Now I have the opportunity to really immerse myself into the city, to take my time getting to know the neighborhoods, and to finally visit areas I wasn’t able to go before because I always used to be on a somewhat tight schedule.

I love how versatile New York is and that it has something very distinct about it – I’ve travelled the States quite a bit and I noticed that some towns look alike to a certain extent, but New York is very different. I think you can really feel the influence of the ocean, that vast space between the old world and the new, in the city – others might call it the European influence, but I call it the sense of space, the knowledge that something ends here and something new begins.

So I said, “New York is different,” right? Guess what – “Wien ist anders,” that’s also the slogan the Viennese City Government has been using for years (I am not sure if they’re still using it, but it has become part of the local Viennese vocabulary by now). On that verdict, the two cities are very similar.

Which writers and/or works of literature have impacted your career and how have they shaped your style of writing?

To cite all the influences, or rather the people/works that have given me food for thought over the years would stretch the confines of this interview to the limit, so I’m not even starting. One thing I have to say, though, is that I realized that many of the writers I prize most are playwrights, or playwrights among other things.

Where do you find inspiration for your work? Once you have come up with an idea, how do you approach the process of writing? Do you usually know how a story will end when you begin or do you let your thoughts and ideas reach a conclusion as you write?

I don’t know about the inspiration. That is, I do know, but I am afraid it is more common sense than people would imagine. Give yourself time and space to breathe, and the inspiration will come. That requires money and certain resources, of course.

The process of writing is obviously very different from writer to writer, and I would say that there is no universal right or wrong for the process; there’s just an individual right or wrong for your writing. Part of the task of becoming a writer is finding out what works for you, and you need to be ruthless on that and not pay attention to what people think should be right for you or how they think writers should be exercising their craft. The most important thing is to sit down and actually write because if you don’t, all your masterpieces will only exist in theory.

When I’m writing a bigger story, I always know what the end will be because I have the feeling I have to know where I am stretching the story-arc to. When I write shorter texts, I know the general gist of where I want to go; when I write poems, I also write differently.

Since 2018, you have been the co-host of “literaTOUR,” an Austrian TV show in which you travel across the country interviewing authors about their works. Although you have just recently started this role, has this experience changed you as a writer? If so, in what ways has this show influenced you in the past year?

The experience that I have been allowed to have as co-host of this show has been amazing and absolutely invaluable. When I am wondering where this past year went and why it passed so quickly, I have to tell myself that I not only finished my academic studies, but also basically learned a whole new job from scratch. I have been given so many opportunities to learn so many different things in doing the show, and I will be forever grateful for that.

I wouldn’t say that this experience has directly changed me as a writer – it has allowed me to learn though, to notice how I’m improving with every show, which has allowed me to grow as a person – and I guess that means I’m growing as a writer too, as is the case with every life experience that you digest one way or another. One thing I have noticed, though, is that I had less time to write last year, but then again, whenever I’m thinking along those lines, I tell myself that I have not been lazy, but have, in fact, been working super hard. It is important to tell that to yourself sometimes, too.

Your latest novel Chikago follows three young immigrants who travel from their home along the Austro-Hungarian border to Chicago in the 1920s. What was the inspiration behind this story? Why did you choose this particular period?

I wouldn’t exactly call it the inspiration behind the story, but rather a question that I wanted to attempt to answer. My question was: How did the world fall from one catastrophe into the other so fast? We mustn’t forget that there were only more or less 20 years between World War I and World War II; time must have passed incredibly fast – just think back to 1999, which does not seem all that far away today. In trying to find an answer, I ended up in the 1920s and 30s and at austerity politics, at Wall Street gambling, at political instability, at insecurity about your own identity (so many new countries were created after World War I, so many old ones crumbled). Trying to pour that explosive mixture into a book was really interesting. While some people say that literature can’t give answers or shouldn’t want to do that, I think differently – it shouldn’t give simple answers where simple answers don’t suffice, but it should attempt to explain nonetheless. In my case, the answer to that question was a book.

If we may ask, what is your current/next project and what do you hope to achieve during your time here as the writer-in-residence at Deutsches Haus at NYU?

I am beyond happy that I finally get to write again, and while I am also enjoying the city, there are two things that I mainly want to focus on: I want to finish a play that I have been working on, and two other projects, neither of which is a novel, are next in line. I do not want to give away what they will be, though. I’ll start my next novel when I’m back in Austria, seeing as it will need a lot of research, too.

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deutscheshausnyu · 5 years

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Interview with DAAD Visiting Scholar at Deutsches Haus at NYU, Susanne Rohr

Susanne Rohr is Chair of North American Literature and Culture at the University of Hamburg. She is currently a DAAD Visiting Scholar at Deutsches Haus at NYU. Her publications include “Die Wahrheit der Täuschung: Wirklichkeitskonstitution im amerikanischen Roman 1889-1989″ (Fink 2004) and with Andrew S. Gross “Pop – Avant-Garde – Scandal: Remembering the Holocaust after the End of History” (Winter 2010). Susanne Rohr has also published numerous essays in the fields of literary and cultural theory, semiotics, American pragmatism, epistemology, and on a broad range of topics in American literature of the 19th and 20th centuries. In 2017, Susanne Rohr was awarded an “opus magnum” stipend by the Volkswagen Foundation to finish her current research project on representations of the Holocaust in German and U.S.-American literature in the new millennium.

During her stay here as a DAAD visiting scholar, Deutsches Haus at NYU will present a talk by Susanne Rohr about the desire for continuity, identity, and belonging in one’s own family history and her interpretation of Katja Petrowskaja’s collection of stories, Maybe Esther. We invite you to join us for the talk, On Finding and Fabricating: Memory and Family History in Katja Petrowskaja’s "Maybe Esther" on November 25th, at 6pm, at Deutsches Haus at NYU.

Since 1983, when you studied at Cornell University as a graduate student, you have traveled to the United States on numerous occasions to research and to teach. What motivates you to continue returning to the U.S.? What do you find especially appealing about researching in New York?

Doing research (and staying) in the U.S. is particularly appealing to me for a number of reasons. First of all, the academic institutions and facilities supporting research are just so much more efficient at the American universities that I have visited. Here at NYU, my research profits enormously from the terrific possibilities to get all kinds of materials (journal articles, book chapter, books etc.) extremely fast, most of the time by immediate digital access or via interlibrary loan, from the support of the kind and professional library staff who are always ready to help, or the opening hours of the libraries. This is very different at my home university, where my student assistant usually has to spend hours to hunt down certain materials that I need. Apart from that, the cultural and academic activities of the various departments at NYU – among them the terrific program of Deutsches Haus at NYU – are very inspiring and enjoyable. In short: the academic milieu at American universities is just so very motivating.

A lot of your research throughout your career as an “Amerikanistin” has been centered around American literature – from American literature of the 20th century to American poetry to Jewish-American literature. Why did you choose this subject as the focus of your projects? Is there a commonality among these various subtopics of American literature – something uniquely American?

That is a good question – and not easy to be answered. On the most general level, I would say that literature helps the reader to more profoundly understand their position in the world, and it does so in a playful way. Fiction investigates reality by offering alternative versions of it that the reader can explore in the reading process. More specifically, the beauty of American literature in my view lies in the multitude of voices that partake in expressing the “American experience.” Also, compared to European literatures, American literature is relatively young. It is fascinating to trace the lively process of how it struggled to first declare its cultural independence and find its own national forms of expression and to then endlessly form and revise its corpus of canonical texts – all the while negotiating transnational influences.

What are some works of literature that have influenced your career?

I would say, the works that have influenced my career most are Henry James’ wonderful late novels and Gertrude Stein’s admirable avant-garde experiments. These works – both highly complex in their own right – have taught me to develop and sharpen my close-reading skills. Interacting with them turned me from a lover of literature into a professional literary scholar and opened my career options.

Your talk at Deutsches Haus at NYU on November 25 will focus on the desire for continuity, identity, and connection that are shared across borders and generations that one can find in German and American literature, using your interpretation of Katja Petrowskaja’s Maybe Esther as a basis. Why did you choose this collection of stories to explore this idea? In what ways, if any, do German and American literature express this desire differently?

Katja Petrowskaja’s Maybe Esther is an example of a literary topic that has become quite popular lately: the search of an individual for their roots and family history. While in American literature – where the immigrant autobiography or life writing has always played an important role – this topic has been present from the beginning, its popularity on the German literary landscape is rather recent. Following the upheavals in the geopolitical landscape after the Second World War and the end of the Cold War, on both sides of the Atlantic, there seems to be a renewed interest among the younger generations in tracing their family history and finding the roots of one’s places of belonging. Maybe Esther now is a peculiar mixture of family novel and memoir, half fictional, half autobiographical, and its attraction lies in its wonderous language. Petrowskaja was born in the Ukraine and belongs to the so called third generation of survivors. She only came to Germany in her mid-twenties and learned German then, yet insists on writing in German, which to her is an act of self-empowerment. Her careful and explorative use of the language and the highly self-reflexive style of writing make this text particularly rewarding for interpretation and analysis.

The talk on Maybe Esther also involves another one of your fields of study: the representations of the Holocaust at the end of the 20th century and the beginning of the 21st century. In your view, how have these representations changed over the years, if at all? Are there any differences in the ways the Holocaust is being represented in German and American literature?

Representations of the Holocaust have changed very much over the course of the last decades. In the immediate post-war era and during the time of the Cold War, realist conventions of representation dominated that were rarely transgressed in order to bear witness to the unfathomable atrocities. In the 1990s, the situation changed, due to the end of the Cold War and generational shifts. More and more, the next generations realized that the Holocaust had become a mediatized event that can only be encountered in indirect ways and thus in certain standardized forms of narrativization. And it was these standardized forms of representation that now became the target of exploration or even attack, as in the form of the provocative “camp comedy.” The 1990s were, in short, the time of taboo breaking experiment, of bringing together the topic of the Holocaust and forms of representation that had hitherto been thought unthinkable and scandalous. While this took place on a transnational scale, in Germany, the land of the perpetrators, the experiment was much more reluctant. If at all, art went against the Nazis and their pompous behavior, following the tradition of Charlie Chaplin’s movie The Great Dictator (1940). Generally, in Germany, the topic is primarily dealt with by exploring intergenerational conflicts and the question of guilt and responsibility.

What project(s) are you currently working on? What do you hope to achieve during your time here as the DAAD Visiting Scholar at Deutsches Haus at NYU?

Right now, I am enjoying the privilege of an “opus magnum”-fellowship, granted me by the VW foundation. This fellowship, by releasing me from my teaching obligations at Hamburg University, supports my writing my “opus magnum,” i.e. that book that is supposed to bring together my research on representations of the Holocaust I have carried out over the last years. The working title is “Of Horror and Glamor: Contemporary Representations of the Holocaust in the US and Germany.” In this book, I examine the artistic experiments indicated above, which can be described as an arc of increasing radicalization. They have now slowly come to their foreseeable end – and the scandal is no longer that scandalous. So what follows, then, the ultimate breach in taboo? It is this question my book addresses, and it does so by closely examining the forms of artistic expression currently visible in German and American artistic practice. The Holocaust is a semiotic universe of image-worlds and discourses, an iconography and a transnational narrative of horror that artistic practice increasingly engages in and borrows from, and the nature of which is characterized by the worldwide influence – and in some cases dominance – of American culture and practices. Contemporary works of art are thus also representations that unfold within the interplay between nationally-specific traditions and Americanized forms. In my book, I hence examine the question of how these relations are specifically commented upon and negotiated within the transatlantic German-American dialogue; that is, I am interested in how they become visible within the American and German cultural landscapes and their cultural productions. As part of assessing the current status of such productions, this book will also examine the ways in which Germany understands and represents the historical event as well as how idiosyncratically American perspectives of the Holocaust are translated into German thought. Via an analysis of the development of German and American literature as well as film and television productions on the Holocaust since the turn of the millennium until today, I will show where and in which ways an ‘Americanized’ form of the Holocaust is circulating in, and sometimes dominating, the German cultural landscape.

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deutscheshausnyu · 5 years

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Interview with Petra Senn

Born in Germany, Petra Senn studied law before moving on to study communication- and photo-design at the University of Applied Sciences and Arts in Dortmund, where she also worked as a lecturer from 2004-2008. Since 1992 she has been working as an independent photographer and artist in Düsseldorf. Petra Senn has presented solo and group exhibitions in various cities in Germany, China, the Netherlands, and the United States. She was the recipient of AGFA’s International Prize for Young Photojournalism (1990) and the BFF’s Förderpreis (1992).

Before pursuing the field of communication- and photo-design at the University of Applied Sciences and Arts in Dortmund, you studied law. What influenced your decision to switch fields? Have you always had an affinity for art and photography that eventually encouraged you to devote your career to them?

When I finished high school, I wanted to become a lawyer and fight for justice, very idealistic. Quite soon, I noticed that this was the wrong place for my idealism. During that time, a friend gave me a medium format camera to work with during a trip to France. That moment changed everything. I was deeply touched by the experience to see the world in the cutouts, squares, the ones I had chosen before. I was fascinated by the fact that there were no “maybes,” no lies in the result, but just what I saw and what I decided to concentrate on. Studying photography and photo-design in Germany required more than pressing the button on a camera. I had to learn everything from the beginning. Developing black and white films and printing the photos in black and white. So I became a volunteer for 6 months and then applied for university.

Not only have you held exhibitions in various cities in Germany, you have also presented your artwork in other countries, such as China, the Netherlands, and the United States. Have you noticed any differences in feedback among audiences in cities in different parts of the world?

Actually, I have not seen the exhibitions in China personally. These were group shows organized by a group of professional photographers (BFF) that I was a member of. About my other experiences with shows in different countries, I can say that the audience in the United States is very open-minded and interested, and there is less hesitation to talk to the artists about their work.

In the exhibition, you also included original negatives of the photographs you took of the fall of the Berlin Wall. Could you elaborate on the significance on these negatives – why did you choose to display them along with the photographs and other materials?

Conceptualizing and elaborating on the theme and the show involved a lot of thinking about photography itself, then and now. Working with a theme like that for me always meant not only presenting “completed” pictures, but also leading the audience into their own memories, emotions, and opinions. So the negatives are symbols - symbols for the event, as well as for the medium. I have always conceptualized my photographs as unique pieces. The negative, purely used as an original, is the only picture existing in the world. The material somehow encapsulates the event. Time and place as well as all that occurred is eternalized in the negative at the very moment the picture was taken. It stands for itself and at the same time, for all the pictures the viewer can imagine or remember.

You use silver gelatin paper to print your photographs. Why did you choose that specific medium?

First of all, it was the material I worked with at that time. I very much appreciate the surface, the color, and the fact that it changes after a while, like our memories do. After 30 years, the theme of the fall of the Berlin Wall has a lot to do with memories and the changes in emotions and thoughts. Somehow fading, blurring, or darkening.

This exhibition is a collection of your personal memories from this momentous event, captured not only in photographs but also in other pieces of memorabilia. One of the exhibition pieces is what appears to be a square cut-out of a material with the caption “Mama, Papa, Harald und ich vor dem Brandenburger Tor in Berlin am 10. Nov. 1989” (Mom, Dad, Harald and I in front of the Brandenburg Gate in Berlin on November 10, 1989). Can you tell us more about this piece and the memories it evokes?

You are talking about the last picture of the exhibition. The finale, so to speak. Indeed, this was one of the first pieces I made. The paper belongs to a photo or family album from around that time and earlier in Europe. It was placed between two pages of photographs to protect them from sticking together and from humidity. So every time you look at a photo album, you can always find this kind of paper on the right side of the book and it has always produced a little tension for me, the moment before turning to the next page of photographs. It also is something precious in my eyes. The paper (there is a negative behind it, too) also stands as a symbol for family albums which no longer exist today, I am afraid. I designed it as the last picture to emphasize the aspect of the imagination, which extends through the entire exhibition.

Looking at the photos of the people at the wall, a lot of them are of the border guards. Why did you select more photos of the guards than the civilians?

I was quite young, a student, at that time, but I immediately understood that there was a big mass of professionals from TV, magazines, and all the newspapers, national and international press; all of them were going after the “big picture” and all of them wanted more or less the same: happy people, laughing, hugging each other, dancing, and climbing the wall, crowds and masses. From the beginning, I considered the event as something individual and I saw no reason to follow the mainstream. Interestingly, the wall in front of the Brandenburg Gate, which was and still is a landmark, actually did not fall until the December 12th, 1989. For me, the border guards were also a symbol and a big question: why did they still try to protect something that no longer existed? Would they not rather celebrate with the other people?

Another remarkable feature of your photographs of people is that few of them depict joy – in fact, only one photo has people noticeably smiling. Is there a different side to the fall of the Berlin Wall, which is often depicted with euphoric and sometimes triumphant expressions in some of the most renowned photographs that you would like to depict?

At that time, I already knew, and history has also shown, that most of the photos of the event at that time would show euphoria. Euphoria and boundless joy were the prevailing mood, but not the only one, and at the Brandenburg Gate, which was still closed, the mood was rather restrained. Partly, my photos also reflect my own feelings as well, namely disbelief and a kind of mistrust: will the border be closed again? Can this be true? Is this real? The border guards for me also symbolized a regime I could never really imagine or understand. This kind of state power, suddenly insecure but still present and almost persisting.

Oftentimes, each generation reflects upon an event in different ways. Do people of different generations react differently when viewing your photographs of the fall of the Berlin Wall? If so, how do these reactions differ?

In fact, the older generation – those who have experienced the fall of the Berlin Wall, at least in the media – have lived through the event. They tell me how they experienced it and talk about the differences between the former two Germanys and the way things were in the years following the reunification. The younger generation asks much more about the history of the partition itself and about the material I worked with. There is a lack of personal experience, so they react more objectively.

If we may ask, what is your current or next project?

The style and content in my personal work has changed into abstraction and combinations of pictures. I am planning more exhibitions and a book of photography and collage in combination with words, poems, quotes, etc. In fact, I found some beautiful abstractions in the streets of New York during my stay. There is also an idea forming in my mind to make a book about the fall of the Berlin Wall.

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deutscheshausnyu · 5 years

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Interview with DAAD Visiting Scholar at Deutsches Haus at NYU, Angela Zumpe

Angela Zumpe is a filmmaker, media artist, and painter, who lives and works in Berlin. She studied painting, installation, and video at the Berlin University of the Arts, after which she attended New York University to study film via a grant from the DAAD. In 1998, Angela Zumpe followed the call to the Anhalt University of Applied Sciences and became Professor for Audiovisual Media in the Department of Design, where she helped shape new ways of life and teaching. She specializes in digital images, experimental videos, and film productions. Her past film projects include The Other America (2004), The Colors of Ageing (2005), Transit (2010), and The Pastor's Children (2017). Her short films have been screened at several festivals, including the “Screening War” at the ZKM Center for Art and Media Karlsruhe.

Berlin-based artist and filmmaker Angela Zumpe was already a guest at Deutsches Haus at NYU with her films in the past, most recently with The Pastor's Children – Punks, Politicians and Philosophers in 2017. This time, she will present parts of her new art book, I Am Taking the Ghosts with Me… (Distanz Verlag, 2019), reflecting her twenty years of working and lecturing in and near the Bauhaus in Dessau. In addition, Angela Zumpe will present a screening of her latest film project, Things to Come, which explores the lives of Bauhaus’s László, Lucia, and Sibyl Moholy-Nagy, between 1929 and 1935, using projection methods inspired by the artists. The centennial of the Bauhaus is sparking a discussion about the institution and its ideas once more. What remains of the original ideas and how are they still relevant today? Angela Zumpe uses the occasion to critically reexamine the Bauhaus and its reception. Please join us for the talk and the screening “Teaching and Thinking the Bauhaus after 1989: Angela Zumpe's Time in Dessau” on Friday, November 15, at 6pm, at Deutsches Haus at NYU.

After graduating from the Berlin University of the Arts, you came to New York to study film at NYU via a grant from the DAAD. In your opinion, what about New York has changed since your residence here as a student?

I feel New York is a lot safer than back in 1981. When I came to New York on a scholarship to study film at NYU, I swapped rooms with my girlfriend’s American boyfriend in Williamsburg. It wasn´t fancy at all at that time. Drugs and other crimes made the neighborhood a bit unsafe. But I liked the Puerto Rican neighborhood which was strictly separated from the Hasidic Jewish area. I went to explore their food and I was fascinated by their way of living. Today, my former roommate Madison Smart Bell is a well-known writer. In 2014, I made a short film portrait of him, when we walked again through Williamsburg.

I have to admit that I find New York much more expensive than seven years ago, when I came here with my students from Dessau for a joint project with my colleague at NYU, Mechthild Schmidt Feist, and her students. In an intensive workshop, we did short film and interactive projects about different NYC neighborhoods.

My American friend Nadine replied to my complaints about the high prices in Greenwich Village: “You should look at it this way: if you go in a restaurant here, you rent the space for a certain amount of time.”

Where do you draw inspirations for your work? Which artists, authors, or thinkers, if any, have influenced your ideas and style throughout your career?

I met some American artists on my DAAD graduate study scholarship to NYU in 1981, right after my art degree from the University of Art in Berlin. I saw Merce Cunningham at the Brooklyn Academy, John Cage at MoMA, and Philip Glass, the composer of serial music, at a lecture in the Whitney Museum. What these artists all had in common was that they merged film, dance, music, popular culture, and politics with new media. Back then, they were all a part of a lively art scene in NY.

I felt connected to their approaches and experiments, some reaching back to American pop artists like Robert Rauschenberg. I was fascinated by the casual manner with which they integrated everyday materials into their art and by the feeling of freedom in the large formats, which I also felt in the work of the abstract expressionists that I saw in American museums at that time. My fascination with Rauschenberg was already unmistakable in my Master’s thesis, which took the form of assemblages.

Your latest book, I Am Taking the Ghosts with Me…, which you will be presenting at Deutsches Haus at NYU on November 15, recounts your extensive experience at the Anhalt University of Applied Sciences in Desssau – the ideals of the Bauhaus, your colleagues, your projects, etc. What would you say were/are the connections between the historic Bauhaus and the university’s department of design?

I asked myself, “What did I expect when I followed the call to the Anhalt University of Applied Sciences and became Professor for Audiovisual Media in the Department of Design?” Thinking of the Bauhaus and their revolutionary ideas of new ways of working and living in the 1930s, I was expecting the possibility of a synergy of art and design, the major departments also at the Bauhaus.

It was also “Stunde 0” (Hour Zero), a new beginning after the reunification of the two Germanys and a chance to shape new ways of life and teaching at a newly-founded university in a historical place.

The material for this book was already there: During my years in Dessau, I photographed everywhere I went in order to remember subjects that inspired me or to keep for myself as a reminder of little stories for films. Because of this practice, I have even assembled a personal archive of photographs of Dessau. They are fragments of an autobiography of my work as a painter and a filmmaker.

During my years teaching at the department of design, I was able to realize several major film and installation projects. One of my goals for the students was to experiment and develop interdisciplinary and cross-media impulses for social renewal from their respective fields. So I let the students participate in the production of my video installations and films similar to the approaches of the Bauhaus masters.

Like a university in the United States, Dessau developed a campus with modern classrooms built along the Bauhausstraße, including a cafeteria and student café. It helped immerse the students. You didn’t go home. You ate in the Kornhaus, slept in the Prellerhaus, and met for breakfast or lunch in the Bauhaus cafeteria. So it resembled the times of the Bauhaus, when living and working were woven together.

Things to Come, your latest film project, which you will also be screening on November 15, reflects on the lives of László Moholy-Nagy and his wives, Lucia and Sibyl, between 1929 and 1935. Aside from being prolific figures of the Bauhaus, what about these artists and their work inspired you to choose them as the focus of this project?

Hungarian-born László Moholy-Nagy (1895-1946) was a painter, photographer, typographer, and stage designer. Between 1923 and 1928, he taught at the Bauhaus in Weimar and Dessau. His oeuvre blazed a trail for future media artists, particularly in the fields of fine-art photography, art film, and film advertisement. My film about László, Lucia, and Sibyl Moholy-Nagy, Things to Come, focuses on his attempts to make a career in film after his time at the Bauhaus when he came back to Berlin in 1929.

It is the story of visionary light designer Moholy-Nagy. He lacked an audience because his ideas did not suit the taste of the masses. My film translates moments from Moholy-Nagy's eventful life into the style that the artist may have envisioned as the cinema of the future in the 1930s. I also focus on Lucia, his first wife who was the documentary photographer of the Bauhaus, and Sibyl, his second wife, as part of a working relationship.

In the Artmuseum Moritzburg in Halle (Saale), the audience could wander through a light-image-sound collage in a 400 square meter room called “WESTBOX” with thirteen computer-controlled projections, and discover and delve into this network of moving images, sound and color. At the moment, it is shown as a two-channel film installation at Lyonel Feininger Gallery in Quedlinburg.

I was glad how Hattula Moholy-Nagy, the daughter of László and Sybil Moholy-Nagy, reacted to the film: “I liked this fictionalized account of my parents and Lucia very much. Even though events did not unfold in quite that way, the film presents the atmosphere of those troubled times very well. I liked the sympathetic portrayal of Lucia and the inclusion of Theodor Neubauer and Franz Spencer.”

What would you like to achieve during your time here as a DAAD Visiting Scholar at Deutsches Haus at NYU? What about New York, if anything, provides inspiration that you would not be able to obtain in Germany?

I want to step out of my German frame of mind and appreciate the multicultural life, which appears totally natural to me here in New York. In Berlin, I feel an international vibe, but Germany in general still deals with the unsolved problems of integrating the refugees.

For my work, I need inspiring views from the outside. I collect impressions of American art, impressions of the city, film bits, and photographs, and will use them as inspirations for my collages or maybe a new photobook or even a new film.

If we may ask, what are you currently working on?

Following the Moholy-Nagy film project, I am thinking of a film project about the Feininger family, their biographies, and their various involvements in the arts. So far, I still have to build connections. I may do some research at the Feininger Archive at Harvard.

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deutscheshausnyu · 5 years

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Interview with DAAD Visiting Scholar at Deutsches Haus at NYU, Christiane Lemke

Christiane Lemke is a professor of international relations and European studies at Leibniz University Hannover. She received her Ph.D. from the Free University in Berlin and went on to earn her Habilitation venia legendi in Political Science from the same institution. Her research interests include the creation of norms and customs in global governance. She has been Visiting Krupp Chair at Harvard University, DAAD Professor at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, and Distinguished Visiting Professor at Suffolk University. In addition, while on leave from Leibniz University Hannover from 2006 to 2007, she served as Director of State Parliament in Lower Saxony, Germany. From 2010 to 2014, she was the holder of the Max Weber Chair in German and European Studies at NYU.

During her stay here as a DAAD visiting scholar, Deutsches Haus at NYU presents her keynote address “Thirty Years after the Fall of the Berlin Wall: A Tale of Two Germanies” and a panel discussion “This Used to be the Future: Politics and Remembrance,“ as part of the conference “Memories Are Made of This: 30 Years after the Fall of the Berlin Wall.” Please join us for the keynote address on Thursday, November 7, at 6pm, and the panel discussion on Friday, November 8, at 4pm, at Deutsches Haus at NYU.

You have visited the United States on countless occasions, the first being your fellowship at Harvard University. What were your first impressions on your first trip here?

The German Kennedy Fellowship at Harvard University in 1983/84 was my first academic experience in the US. In 1967/68, I had already spent a year as a high school student in California. I came to Harvard as a very young post-doc, and I was very impressed with the vibrant academic discourse, the intellectual rigor of the debates, and the diversity of people in academic institutions. Based at the Center for European Studies, I learned so much about comparative political economy, history and remembrance, and European politics working with excellent scholars in the field. The stay also laid the groundwork for my interest in American politics and I audited several classes on U.S. politics.

How much did the United States differ from Germany when you first arrived? How has the United States changed over the years?

Given that I have spent many years of my academic life in the U.S., I have always been intrigued by the incredible regional differences in the U.S., both culturally and politically. Having lived in New England and the South, the North-South divide is striking. The West Coast, which I also know well, is yet another story and so is the Heartland of the Midwest. Even though Germany also features regional cultures, experiences socio-economic differences, and practices various dialects, this occurs on a much smaller scale. The same applies to political attitudes and preferences in different regions.

When I first arrived in the U.S. in August of 1967, race tensions were high and it was deeply disturbing to watch the violence in society. During my year as an exchange student, I experienced the turmoil that followed the murder of Martin Luther King and a few months later, Robert Kennedy was shot during the election campaign of 1968. Even though the legal and social situation has changed significantly since then, race still seems to be a very divisive issue in U.S. politics today.

On a personal level, I find the people I meet in the U.S. friendly, welcoming, and mostly open-minded. This has not changed over the years.

Your early work was focused mostly on the former German Democratic Republic. What prompted you to pursue this subject?

I studied political science, sociology, and education science at the Freie Universität Berlin in the 1970s. Berlin was a divided city. The Cold War had shaped Germany and the division of the country; the Wall was omnipresent in the city of Berlin. At the same time, the GDR was as exotic as Bangkok. That is to say, we did not know much about that part of Germany, since travel was restricted and it seemed to be so far away. Field research was impossible for West Germans. Later in the 1980s, I came to know East German critical thinkers, peace activists, feminists, dissidents, and this spurred my interest to study the deeply divided political culture of the GDR – here, the official rhetoric of building a perfect socialist society and there, “inofficial” political activity leading up to the formation of the civic movement in the GDR. This rift and the activities of civic groups fueled the mass demonstrations in 1989 and, subsequently, led to the fall of the Berlin Wall. Most of my work was centered around this tension in the 1980s and the civic groups even though predicting the fall of the Wall was, I think, impossible. The window of opportunity to take down the deadly border was historically unique due to a large extent to changes in East European political realities and international relations. For example, had the Soviet Union decided to intervene militarily, like the country did in 1953 during the Berlin uprising, or in 1968 during the Prague Spring, the East German civic opposition would have been crushed. Moreover, the opening of the border between Hungary and Austria in the summer of 1989, which triggered the mass exodus from the GDR, had far-reaching implications for the loss of legitimacy and the implosion of the East German communist regime.

From 2006 to 2007, you took a leave from university to assume the position of Director of State Parliament in Lower Saxony – in fact, becoming the first woman in Germany to hold this position. In what ways, if any, did your previous experience in academia help you serve this role? How has your experience in this position influenced your subsequent career and research?

Yes, I was invited to serve as the director of state parliament, which is the head administrative position in parliament and, at least in Lower Saxony, a bipartisan, non-party-based position. During this time, I was on leave from my home university. Being in leadership for the various services – from supporting the drafting of legislation to managing the IT-services of the elected representatives in parliament – was quite challenging, but I believe that we are trained as university professors to function under pressure and keep calm, even when surrounded by uncertainty. I also learned that the great German sociologist Max Weber in his description of “politics as vocation” has some important lessons to share even today.

Most importantly, I could apply some of my knowledge about European integration and the EU, since it was part of my assignment during this year to “Europeanize” the administration. Whenever the European Union prepares and passes legislation that affects the Länder, or states, states have to deliberate and give an opinion on these matters. Therefore, it is important that representatives as well as the legal service, which advises lawmakers, know about European legislation and the functioning of the EU. All states in Germany have representatives in Brussels and state parliaments wish to be included in the transnational law-making as well. I greatly appreciated the beauty of working with the well-endowed and highly-qualified team in the state parliament during that time.

I am deeply grateful to have had this experience in parliament since I got a much better grasp of political decision-making, the functioning of parliament, and party pluralism. This proved to be extremely helpful for teaching political science students and advising them in their career choices. As the director of the Jean Monnet European Center of Excellence at Leibniz University Hannover, I was also able to develop closer forms of cooperation between the university, the state parliament, and the city of Hannover. This has benefitted the state parliament and the university as well.

On November 9, Germany will be commemorating the 30th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall. How would you say Germany has changed, both in the west and the former east? Do you believe that Germany still faces repercussions from the reunification? What might be productive ways of addressing these repercussions?

The fall of the Berlin Wall was only the beginning of a grand transformation. Though highly celebrated at that time, unification has not benefitted everyone. It was most enthusiatically embraced by the younger generation appreciating the new freedom to travel, explore unknown ways of life, and take advantage of new opportunities in training and education. But for many people of the middle-aged generation, changes were often abrupt, including unemployment, and some felt like their previous lives had been devalued. Nobody had a masterplan for unification so politics mostly muddled through the first difficult decade, when unemployment rose sharply in the East and many factories were closed permanently.

West Germany invested heavily in modernizing the East; a tax surcharge, called solidarity surcharge, was introduced and many institutions, including universities, received large transfer payments. However, repercussions from unification were not only in the economic realm; more challenging was and still is the political and societal transformation. We still see the repercussions today, for example in the rise of the extremist right-wing populist party Alternative for Germany (AfD), which is particularly stong in the East.

But there is new research about regional differences in Germany today, showing that economic, social, and political differences do not simply follow an East-West divide. Some of the most affluent regions in Germany are, in fact, in the East, for example in Saxony around Dresden and Leipzig, and some of the strongest showing of the far-right is not in the East but includes states in the West, such as wealthy Baden-Würtemberg. Generally, big cities in the East are doing well, whereas smaller towns and the countryside are increasingly deprived. To improve cultural and political life in these deprived areas (including the providing of good Internet access) should be a major task for states and local governments in the future. You need good governance for these deprived areas.

Your fields of research include European, American, and comparative politics. In your opinion, how does politics in the U.S. differ from Europe? For example, what would you say are the differences in attitudes towards politics between the U.S. and Europe among the public?

We share many issues and challenges, such as climate change, integrating migrants, the importance of social media, social inequalities. But we differ in strategies, policy priorities, and resources. In Germany, there is a lot of emphasis on civic education and the culture of remembrance in schools and in public discourse. One of the major topics today, especially among the younger generations, is climate change. Several new initiatives, such as “Fridays for Future,” spread from schools to universities to the broader society, and there is a new urgency in this policy field that all political parties (except for the far right) have responded to. Germany has joined and supported the Paris Climate Agreement as have all other EU member countries. In the field of climate change policies, I would say that attitudes differ from the U.S. In the U.S., the stunning beauty of the National Parks stands in stark contrast to the sprawling cities, the intensity of traffic and the luxurious ways of consuming energy and other resources. Germany is not a model country for environmental protection, but there is more awareness in general about the limited resources we share on this earth and the need to actively engage in new ways to fight climate change.

What project(s) are you currently working on? What do you hope to achieve as a visiting DAAD scholar at Deutsches Haus at NYU?

The DAAD fellowship offers the unique opportunity to take time off to write. Currently, I am working on a book about transatlantic relations after the end of the Cold War, and I am also planning to conduct some interviews with experts here in New York and in Washington DC. The book focuses on the challenges to the “liberal world order,” arguing that both Europe and the United States, are facing increasing challenges due to tensions of conflicting norms around nationalism, populism, and the new politics of protectionism. In my work, I also explore questions on the future of the liberal order, such as a) Is the shift toward nationalism recasting post-Cold War postulates, b) What are the ideas and norms that shape the surging populist policies and political relations, and c) Can transatlantic norm conflicts be resolved through deliberation?

Aside from this book project, we are also planning a conference at Deutsches Haus at NYU on the topic of thirty years after the fall of the Berlin Wall which will take place on November 7 and 8. I am very much looking forward to engaging in debates with my American colleagues.

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deutscheshausnyu · 5 years

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Hi! My name is Hotaka and I am the new Project Assistant at Deutsches Haus at NYU, working on the cultural program, specifically events involving the DAAD.

I am an NYU graduate, member of the Class of 2019, with a B.A. in Politics and minors in history and German. Originally, I come from Tokyo, but moved to the United States 7 years ago as a high school sophomore in Westchester. Counting the year and a half I lived here with my family from 2004 to 2006 and the yearly visits in the following summers, I definitely consider New York as my second home.

I started working at Deutsches Haus at NYU as a student worker from fall 2018, after spending the spring semester in Berlin. This semester abroad was both my first time in Berlin and my first time actually living in Germany (I had visited Sulzbach-Rosenberg, a small town near Nuremberg, for a music festival a few summers ago, but only for a couple weeks). I wanted to stay connected to German culture in some way and retain whatever I still remembered about the German language after coming back to New York, so I decided to work here.

I’m happy to be able to continue working here after my graduation – hope to see you at Deutsches Haus at NYU!

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deutscheshausnyu · 5 years

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Interview with Christian Mendonça

On September 26, 2019, ZweiundVierzig (42) was born: the must-listen-to playlist for music from the German-speaking world! In monthly editions, Deutsches Haus at NYU will be curating ZweiundVierzig (42), a playlist that brings contemporary German music and Deutsches Haus staff favorites to the American audience. The playlist consists of a sampling of carefully selected R&B/Hip Hop/Rap/Trap/Rock/Electronic/Experimental/Techno/Classical songs.

Right on schedule for October’s release of ZweiundVierzig (42), it is time to speak to Christian Mendonça, the mastermind behind the playlist, and jack of all trades at Deutsches Haus at NYU, about the work that goes into curating ZweiundVierzig (42).

If you have not done so yet, go ahead and listen to what's up-and-coming across the Atlantic this month and check out the new ZweiundVierzig (42) on Spotify❗️

A quick teaser: We’re working on a musical selection for our young listeners as well ;)

How did the idea for “ZweiundVierzig” come about? Could you please provide us with insights into its origin?

As with most of my interests, I’d say that there are multiple origins to this project. I studied abroad in Berlin, and met a lot of people who were researching minority cultures there. I was myself really interested in the urban landscape and culture of the city, especially in comparison to American cities. To some degree, I’d say that experience abroad was the original seed. I’d also say that exploring the trend of artists politicizing their music in the Americas to push previously conceived notions of urban and minority youths since that time, has also been essential to this origin story. Trends can be observed in the States as well as in Latin America, where once can hear from a great queer and trans music community in Brazil, a rising one in Costa Rica, and the queering of machismo norms in Puerto Rico to name just a few. These interests, combined with my coming back to Deutsches Haus (I was a student worker/program assistant as an undergrad here) to work as an administrative aide, are the reasons this project came to life.

Could you expand on the playlist name?

ZweiundVierzig was an easy pick. It means 42 in German. Some people will say it’s the numeric answer to everything. I don’t know if I believe that, but I do believe that Deutsches Haus has provided a few answers for me. 42 is our address on the Mews. Come visit! Let’s talk music!

The stylization on the other hand, came about after toying with the words a bit. Personally, I felt like it looked best/coolest this way.

There will be a new curated playlist each month. Where do you draw your inspiration for the song selections from? Do you get suggestions from the Deutsches Haus at NYU community?

Spotify provides some great song suggestions once you start toying with their playlists. I think there is an algorithm that begins curating music suggestions for you based on the artists you listen to. It’s a great way to start exploring music in different languages. Another reason I came up with this is because I thought it would be a great tool for our language students! Even if they listen to a 2-3 minute song in German per day, that’s some exposure/contact time! Aside from Spotify, there are also a ton of music magazines and sites for German audiences (such as Kaltblut or Riddim). While I was in Berlin, I couldn’t believe magazine culture (both online and physical). I’m ashamed to say, but I thought it was a dying art. I’ve been more aware of it now in the States as well, and am even a subscriber to some. Lots of music tips and revelations are drawn from them as well.

Does the playlist focus on a certain music genre? If yes, why? Will there be any themed playlists?

Playlists might explore sounds and juxtapose today’s music with some older tunes, to see how music has changed (and/or not changed) over time. I’m hoping to have playlists with solely Austrian artists and solely Swiss artists at some point. The Holidays are coming up. I think we have something in the works for that too :)

Who are some artists you’ve discovered lately?

Again, I’m very interested in minority cultural contributions and productions as possible tools of both assimilation and resistance (via the creation and navigation of transcultural spaces). Germany, as most of urban Europe, is much more diverse than most people imagine. We get artists like OG Keemo, of Sudanese origin; Ufo361, who is Turkish and truly glorious in his trap/rap game; JuJu, with Moroccan roots calling everyone out because she knows she’s a powerhouse; Nura, who is Eritrean and Saudi, but born in Kuwait, and holds Eritrean citizenship (politics are complex); etc. They all draw upon/from the German language (and more) and help shape/mold it to hone and assert identity as well as experience. It’s quite powerful, and often times probably not even the intention, which almost makes it even cooler.

And of course, there’s the non-poc artists going out of their way to push and stretch the previously conceived boundaries of their language and its sound: Marteria, who through his other artistic project, Marsimoto literally manipulates his voice to speak to experiences and feelings not inhabited by Marteria; Fatoni; Die Orsons; AnnenMayKantereit; just to name a few.

How has the feedback been so far regarding the first two releases of “ZweiundVierzig”?

We just released the second playlist yesterday. :)

There’s been a lot of words of encouragement to pursue this project from both staff and students!

The most exciting question of course, what can we expect from future releases of “ZweiundVierzig”?

Look forward to some Rock and Electronic; to some Reggae/Dancehall; tons of rap/trap; and of course, techno.

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deutscheshausnyu · 5 years

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Hello! My name is Hannah. I’m 21 years old, and I am a junior at NYU! I have been a Program Assistant at Deutsches Haus for almost two years now. I’m from Murrieta, CA, a small city about an hour northeast of San Diego. My favorite things include musical theater, cats, and colorful makeup.

I started learning German in high school because taking a year of language was a requirement to graduate. I knew I had German heritage, so I chose German (over Spanish or French) because I thought it would be cool to learn more about the culture and language of my ancestors. From day one, I fell in love with anything and everything related to the German speaking world. I took it for all four years in high school, and I am continuing my German studies at NYU and at Deutsches Haus. My dream job would be as a business analyst in a firm that operates in both the US and Germany. This way I never have to stop speaking German.

I’ve traveled to Germany multiple times, most notably this past summer when I received a scholarship from the DAAD (German Academic Exchange Service) to study in Bremen. Without a doubt, Bremen is my favorite German city thus far. It is so rich in history and culture. Every weekend, I visited a different museum or cultural site, just to take it all in.

Deutsches Haus is my home away from home. If you’re ever at the Haus, don't hesitate to say hallo!

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deutscheshausnyu · 5 years

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Interview with Arnold Helbling

Arnold Helbling is a NYC-based visual artist, whose exhibition “Motherboard,” is currently on view at Deutsches Haus at NYU through October 25.

Arnold Helbling received his academic training at the Hochschule für Gestaltung und Kunst in Basel. He has lived in New York since 1990 and has exhibited widely in the United States, Europe, and Asia. His work has been shown in New York City at White Columns, Roebling Hall, the Swiss Institute, Artist Space, and Deutsches Haus at NYU.

With “Motherboard,” Helbling inspires viewers with large scale works that feature hidden electronic structures, those which enable our everyday communication, as if viewed through an X-ray machine.

The site-specific installation on the ground floor of Deutsches Haus at NYU is made up of lines and connection points of circuit boards, which ultimately resembles a complex subway map of a futuristic city.

Speech bubbles with text messages, which remind us of the simple human interactions requiring these complex electronic connections, appear on the colored adhesives dressing the window panes. Additional installation and paintings are shown on the second floor. Among others, there is the sculpture installation “Balance,” which breaks out of the traditional painting frame. Taking a close look at the installation, the viewer is able to detect the shadow of a human figure with arms spread.

There's a lot more to discover in the artwork and about the respective artist. Please visit Deutsches Haus at NYU event page or, even better, stop by Deutsches Haus at NYU. We invite you to join us for a reception with Arnold Helbling on October 25, 6-8pm.

You are from Brugg, Switzerland, have received your academic training in Basel, have lived in New York City since 1990, and have exhibited in various cities around the world. How does exhibiting in New York City differ from other international locations/art hubs?

In New York people are generally curious and go out to see shows. In Europe exhibition spaces and galleries are frustratingly empty after the opening of a show. In Shanghai people who look at art tend to be very young.

When it comes to feedback the visitors in New York are much more used to showing and sharing their reactions. In Zurich, for example, you might have to live there for a good while to get a chance to hear a reaction –it might happen at your new show that someone finally shares how much they liked the previous one (and no word about the current one..). Both have their merits: the memory tends to stay longer in Europe and the blinking ‘heart button’ jolts your moment.

Your artwork, especially the installation “Matrix” on the first floor of Deutsches Haus at NYU, references an urban environment, since it seems to resemble a complex subway map of a futuristic city. To what extent is your work inspired by New York City? And from your experience, how has New York City changed in your time living here?

Living near the Hudson Yards for the past 20 years gives you a good perspective of urban renewal. My inspiration is not so much in the new buildings that shoot up (actually I find them quite boring and generic, considering what would be possible with new technologies) but with the construction process itself and the supplanting of a functioning neighborhood with a new, financially more invested one.

And the second part of your question of what has changed in New York over the years: I don’t think you want to hear the long version! So here is the short one: Look at JFK airport. Ever since I moved here it’s been a mess. They build and change and improve it constantly but it is still a mess.

In your artworks that are part of “Motherboard,” there are references to Robert Rauschenberg. In some of your former work, there have been connections to architectural buildings by Zaha Hadid or to poetry by T.S. Eliot. Which artists and writers inspire you presently? Where else do you draw inspiration from?

We are lucky to be exposed to so many cultural achievements. Most of the inspiration comes from passing through (spending) my daily life among friends and situations with a curious mind and open eyes. The question is always: does it touch me? Why? Sometimes this opens new doors. “Infinite Jest” by David Foster Wallace is one of those books that I am not able to finish for years. Reading and at times not fully grasping it is comparable to those creative moments while wandering in some busy New York streets where realities and memories constantly negotiate my next steps forward.

Recurring visual elements in “Motherboard,” are strong patterns, vivid colors, transparent plastic sheets, and graphic elements. Can you provide us with a small insight into your choice of material? For example, what role do the transparent plastic sheets play?

I use the plastic sheets in the process to make my paintings. I lay down paint on plastic sheets first and then transfer this to canvas. Then I remove and discard the sheet. What you see in the installations at DH are these painted sheets – I can transfer the painted sheets to walls, to canvas, or just leave them as they are. I was always intrigued by their translucent qualities. This is the first time that I show paintings that still seem to be in the process of being formed.

Skepticism or admiration? A frequent theme in “Motherboard” is the electronic structure as a foundation of our everyday communication. What is your opinion of the increasing digitization of everyday life?

Well, I still like the illusion that I live a conscious life and am able to make some choices.

Your artworks highlight different perspectives of communication tools. In your opinion, what is the most intriguing form of communication?

Signs of friendship!

But your question is about Art. I am intrigued and dogged by every form of artistic communication.

You play with the exciting tension between new and old forms of communication. References to traditional paintings and symbols become vivid, be it via the painting “Flying Flags”, in which you capture an older form of communication, or via the golden background in “Motherboard,” which emulates a medieval painting. How important is the technique of traditional painting for your work? What do you think about recent approaches of technology-driven works like data pictures, 3D prints, or virtual reality installations?

Hm. I am a very old fashioned painter at heart. Today, because of the high costs of production, most of the cutting edge technology presentations have to be crowd pleasers (and industry promoters) and therefore make sense as circus attractions in busy public spaces. Painting is by nature more intimate and requires a different form of literacy. But all techniques are just means to an end.

If you don’t mind sharing, what other projects might you be working on?

As a long-term project I am working on a book.

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deutscheshausnyu · 5 years

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Interview with current writer-in-residence, Nina Bußmann

Nina Bußmann was born in Frankfurt am Main, Germany and currently lives in Berlin. Her works incorporate prose, essays and collaborative projects with visual and performance artists. She gained recognition through her first two novels, “Große Ferien,” which was published in 2012, and “Der Mantel der Erde ist heiß und teilweise geschmolzen,” published in 2017. Recently she was honored with the Robert-Gernhardt-Preis for the work on her ongoing project, the novel „Dickicht,“ which will be released in the spring of 2020.

As part of her residency, Nina Bußmann will present her book “Der Mantel der Erde ist heiß und teilweise geschmolzen” in a conversation with Eric Jarosinski, the Germanist and mastermind behind “@neinquarterly,” at Deutsches Haus at NYU on November 1, 2019 at 6 pm. Please join us!

Is this your first stay in New York City? What are/were your first impressions of the city, and has anything about New York surprised you?

I have been here before, in 2014, and even then, it did not feel like the first time. Most visitors probably share this uncanny feeling of having been here before. Back then, I stayed in Brooklyn. Of my Manhattan visits, I mostly remember glossy surfaces, gentrified neighborhoods, etc., so this time, I was struck by how visible social disparity is, all over the place.

How does New York differ from Berlin - the city you call home?

In Berlin, the cost of living is still lower and (maybe as a result) the general pace is slower. And you won't encounter as many psychics and palm-readers.

You have lived and worked in various countries around the world, e.g. Poland and Nicaragua. How have these places inspired and informed your literary work? Where else do you draw inspiration for your writing from?

Encounters with the foreign can be unsettling and refreshing, both of which is good for writing. But then, I can have such encounters in my hometown, too, by talking to or even by reading about someone who has a different background.

I still think of inspiration as something indispensable, ephemeral. All I can do is allow time and space, stay perceptive.

In your novels you send your readers on a journey to put together the puzzle pieces of the different writing styles and genres that comprise your text. How would you describe your writing process? What comes first, structure or content?

Structure, content, I can never disentangle the two! In one of my favorite essays, Why I write, Joan Didion describes how she assembled various pictures and images, newspaper clips, etc., in preparation for her novel A Book of Common Prayer. But it was one single image – one partly made up by her memory – that made a character emerge, and from there, a set of questions that she did not know how to answer. I like this intuitive approach, this confidence in the unknown.

Nature plays a very important role in your work, especially in Große Ferien. In contrast, your latest project, Dickicht, seems more anchored in urban structures. How important is the environment and atmosphere in your literary works?

Große Ferien's protagonist spends the entire novel in his front yard and driveway, weeding and lawn-manicuring, striving to design something flawless: a highly-artificial, man-made environment. In my second novel, a young scientist sets out to do research on tectonics, the fault lines below our feet responsible for natural disasters. Disasters, I learned, are by no means purely natural. We call them disasters only when they affect human civilization. Dickicht is largely set in the urban periphery: overgrown construction sites, a cityscape affected by climate crisis. I would not even say I'm interested in the fuzzy zones where nature and culture overlap. I don't think of them as two entities.

Which authors do you love to read and what was the last text you read that had a lasting impact on you?

My preferences keep changing, but books by Natalia Ginzburg, Rachel Cusk, Clarice Lispector, Roberto Bolaño, Lucia Berlin, Marion Poschmann, and Joan Didion have been sitting on my desk for years now.

Both your novels deal with the theme of disappearance. Especially in Große Ferien, the protagonist Schramm finds in his home and garden a meaningful place for his retreat. Do you also seek out spaces that allow you to "disappear"?

I find myself returning to that theme in my writing. Maybe simply because writing itself requires withdrawal. Probably, there is an obsession of some sort, something both tempting and frightening – an obscure fascination that I'd rather not analyze. But then again, sometimes I think my characters just need a break, like a lot of people.

You write essays, novels, texts in cooperation with other artists, make podcasts, and much more. Which type of media and which genre do you currently enjoy working with the most?

I have never made a podcast, just some short audio-pieces that became part of an art installation. Generally, I like working on long projects growing and taking unexpected turns over a period of time. What fascinates me the most about the novel is its broadness and openness. It can incorporate virtually anything. But I might start writing a long radio play sometime soon. It will be an unfamiliar territory, and I'm excited about it.

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