WALLY'S BLOG 2011
December 20
IN THE MORNING
Maya handed in her notice at the envelope factory after three years hard labour. It was that or stay twenty more years and get a little silver spoon at the end of it. She has become very unhappy there, the contrast between that and what we really what to do, what we are trying hard to do, growing stronger all the time. We couldn't stand it any more. In three months she will be free to join me in building a little design studio, probably in Zurich, but probably not in the grocers shop which we must leave at the end of March(*). Hand in hand we are walking to the edge of the existential abyss.
In the afternoon, someone I had banked on to lend me enough money to keep the gallery open into 2012 decided not to do it, remarking that if the risk went wrong it would be bad for our, up until this point, good relations. Thanks friend. Well, we never were close.
In the evening I had to explain to Maya, who wants to celebrate giving up work, that I can't pay January's shop rent after all. A little brain-storming session threw up these ideas:
1. Move out early (by end of December) and save rent of over three grand. The shop hasn't worked so far anyway.
2. Talk openly to landlord Herr Haller - the old fox - and suggest a cheap or even rent free last period. (We're hardly going to move back in after renovation anyway, since I heard it may go up to 4,600 Franks a month. Or more.)
3. Turn the place into a junk shop. Fill it with STUFF, bought or borrowed. Zurich folk too chic to enter an alternative establishment of any kind are seen crowding happily into junk shops here, looking for bargain tea-pots and mended candle-stands.
4. The luxury of staying on to build the design-studio we dream of is... a luxury we can no longer afford. It must be launched from home.
(*As it turned out our lease was extended another year and we stayed on. Early in 2012 we founded Design-Partners Malfatti Woods, renaming and refitting the shop - no longer a gallery - accordingly. We collected other designers to present their wares on commission, and I reinvented myself into the trendy profession of "designer". Art was swept into the back room, with my unfinished guillotine, umpteen disembowled pianos, unwritten books, unpainted pictures and endless unfulfilled variations on the future. And I stopped writing these diaries. Yet Maya and I are happy. To find out what happened in 2012 see www.design-partners.org and/or the Facebook page)
November 25
BEST EXHIBITION
so far at the ex-grocers shop, opens tonight in stiff old Zurich. Since May this year the place has developed from an almost spontaneous idea painted pink into an almost authentic white-walled gallery presenting authentic modern art from five classy Zurich-based artists: Nicole Foraboschi, Martinka Kremeckova, Maria Kühnen, Suzane Richle and Wink Witholt. Thanks for your support guys!
November 7
NOT ENOUGH SPACE
to work on the left wing, so managed to set up to the right of the Thing, hanging wing and shoulder from hooks in the ceiling. Began with the coasters to consider the swinging mechanism. For the exhibition, Maya bought black material to replace the red on the sofa (a sofa does not look well in this installation, but I don't want to do without it as there are no other seats besides the benches, which are stored out of sight). Have set up the new laptop - kindly donated by Flo - in the little hallway. Heating is minimal but tolerable; it's so far a very mild winter. We are both now looking forward to the end of this year's programme (which will have involved about an exhibition per month) and redesigning the shop for three months around the murals and design service venture. We should have done it late this Summer. On the other hand, losses and disappointments taken into account, we agree it was right to try the gallery thing.
November 6
MR SCHALTENBRAND'S
"Out of the Woods" show opened last night. Good work, informal atmosphere, fine light performance with himself and Flo Stoffner on guitar & effects. Too much smoke-machine - it filled the stairwell. I was glad emergency services weren't summoned. But who cares. The house is falling apart anyway. Too few guests. At least, important ones, whoever they are; and too many reaching for a free drink. D.S. was tolerated, one of the lads and liked by almost everyone; but this horrible situation he has put us in calls for some kind of action.
November 4
BACK IN SUMMER
I told Michel Schaltenbrand he could do what he liked for his show; paint the walls black if he wanted. Recommended by Maya and D.S., he took a while to take the offer of an exhibition at our little place seriously. But after prolonged wranglings about clearing enough space in the two rooms, we were happy he decided to go for it. So he's painting the gallery black this week, after I stuffed all the piano works and workshop into the rear area, now blocked from view with a black stage curtain. Back-stage, in the tightest workshop the Thing has seen, there is just enough room to swing a cat or work on the left wing. Eventually attached to the newly constructed rear and sides forming the guillotine workings, the wings will flap; most likely using all four of the swivelling iron feet. Besides that, have almost filled the cellar by now with MORE STUFF, but the kitchen is not overflowing. Much upheaval then, but Michel is well respected in stage and exhibition design in Zurich, landing contracts for big theatre pieces; and we treat our artists well at PZP. (Too well sometimes.) He is fussy and demanding - as I am - partly because he works at this level and usually gets his way. I watch what I say, careful not to suggest too much or hang around too long. He has had the place to himself for ten days and I hope he feels inspired rather than trapped. Another true artist then. Let's see if that's a compliment.
November 3
REMEMBER U.B.
Recieved this from beloved Berlin paperwork cruncher, co-Kulturhaus Verein member, and trusty "Wallywoods vs Local Borough" go-between, U.B. Quietest subversive of all. He has long been invited to visit, and intends to do so. I hope he hurries. If I haven't been locked away by then, he won't mind tackling with me the current Swiss paperwork challenge and hovering financial disaster - all in the same language at least:
"Hallo Paul, wie geht es euch? Lange habe ich wenig von mir hören lassen. In Berlin haben wir einen wunderschönen Herbst mit tagsüber warmen Temparaturen, alles verfärbt sich gelb, der Himmel ist stahlend blau. Eigentlich die ideale Landschaft für eine Reise über Land, aber offensichtlich schaffe ich es derzeit weder nach Süden noch sonst anderswo hin. Jetzt hat mich schon vor ca. zwei Wochen Norbi angerufen, und heute habe ich Post für dich dort in Empfang genommen. Leider komme ich auch nicht oft zu Norbi. Offenbar ist dein Konto bei der Berliner Volksbank derzeit überzogen und aus diesem Grund erfolgen keine Überweisungen mehr. Die BA vermißt die Rate zum Geschäftszeichen L893T... für den 15.10.2011, und die Berliner Volksbank selbst fordert dich in einem Schreiben von 20.10.2011 dringend zum Ausgleich des aufgelaufenen Sollstandes von sage und schreibe 10,20 EUR bis zum 10.11.2011 auf, das ist bald. Das solltest du möglichst umgehend tun, denn sonst lösen sie das Konto auf. Am besten du rufst dort auch einmal an falls die Überweisung bzw. das Auffüllen dauern sollte: Berliner Volksbank, Tel. 030.3063-3300. Deine Rate an die BA war ja offenbar 20.- EUR / Monat. Wenn du dein Konto bei der Berliner Volksbank, das laut Angaben der Bank 10,20 EUR minus aufweist, entsprechend aufüllst, ist die Bank zufrieden, und die Bundesanstalt für Arbeit wird trotz ihrer kategorischen Aufforderung vom 16.10.2011 (siehe Anhang) wohl damit einverstanden sein, daß du weiter die Raten überweist. Das schreibt sie ja auch im letzten Satz: 'Sollte Ihnen eine fristgerechte Zahlung nicht möglich sein ...' Vielleicht setzt du dich diesbezüglich einmal mit der BA in Verbindung. Die Kontaktdaten sind im Schreiben im Anhang (hoffentlich) zu lesen. Die Tel.Nr. der BA noch einmal: 0180/1003090. Sage ihnen ggf., du habest kein Einkommen, würdest aber die Ratenzahlung fortsetzen wollen. Wenn sie damit einverstanden sind, daß die Raten diesen Monats wieder kommen und die des letzten Monats ausfällt, brauchst du nichts weiter zu machen als dein Konto bei der Berliner Volksbank per Überweisung ausreichend(!) aufzufüllen. Denke dabei auch an die kommenden Monate. Wenn wieder Geld auf dem Konto ist, wird der Dauerauftrag weiter ausgeführt, jedoch nicht die einmal ausgefallene Überweisung nachgeholt. Diese müßtest du falls die BA wirklich darauf besteht für die ausgefalleneen Male nachholen, aber ich kann mir vorstellen daß sie mit der Fortsetzung der Zahlung im allgemeinem zufrieden sein werden. Dein Konto bei der Berliner Volksbank mußt du für diese notwendigen Transaktionen natürlich im entprechenden Umfang auffüllen. Du kannst natürlich auch gemäß der Fordernung vom 16.10.2011 gleich den ganzen Betrag in Höhe von 140.- EUR an die BA überweisen, wobei es mich wundert, wie die auf den glatten Betrag von offenbar genau 140.- EUR kommen. wahrscheinlich wirklich ein Zufall. Zum Peter Edel: Was mit dem Haus geschieht ist nicht nur mir noch immer unklar. Das Gebäude ist noc immer verschlossen, getan hat sich bislang nichts. Man hört Gerüchte, daß der Vertrag mit der Schauspielschule bzw. dem Investor mittlerweile unterschrieben wird, aber die sind nicht neu. am 12.Juli ab 10:00 Uhr fand anläßlich des 90. Geburtstags von Peter Edel vor dem Kulturhaus eine Gedenkkundgebung der Antifaschistischen Initiative Nord-Ost (AINO) zusammen mit der VVN-BdA statt. Das war sehr wahrscheinlich das bislang letzte Event am oder im Haus. Das Projekt Wallywoods hat in der Rede zutreffenderweise als Bewahrer des Kulturhauses Erwähnung gefunden. Es gibt Fotos und auch das Redemanuskript. Ich werde es dir bald zukommen lassen. Es tut mir leid nur vorwiegend negative Nachrichten bieten zu können, aber: Das Job- Center ist ansonsten zufrieden, du hast den Abschließenden Bescheid über den vollen Satz bekommen, keine weiteren Rückforderungen. Den Bescheid kann ich dir bei Bedarf zuschicken. Viele Grüße U.B."
(If you do travel here, U.B., be aware that the Swiss are not quite so foreigner-friendly as when I arrived, since the Nazis joined the government two weeks ago. And bring a crate of Berliner Pils with you. One can't get better for one's money.)
November 2
INTRODUCING DANNY AMOS FLYNN
Our London correspondant. All it says at the website about this eccentric millionaire (unconfirmed) and patron of arts is, "Print-master, lecturer, poet & lazy curator of Paradox London Projects (PLP) exhibitions, events & concerts (in exile until PLP finds a home in 2012)". Here is the small print, backdated until today, the day Danny Amos Flynn was forced to co-establish PLP:
10 June 2010 Wally Woods when you comin over? (not this weekend please, I got a new chick in Zürich) 12 June 2010 Danny Amos Flynn You can't keep chickens in Berlin? 17 June 2010 Wally Woods Doin ma best... (Back in Berlin now) Danny Amos Flynn 17 June 2010 Well Wally would or wouldn't you? I will forward the address of the other artists I'm going to be meeting up with when I come over, to see if you know them. You are still in the Wallywood's gallery? Thanks for the offer of exhibiting the Mutanabi letterpress work. It's a good cause. 17 June 2010 Wally Woods All sounds great. When might you skip over? (I'm on the island most of July) Danny Amos Flynn 17 June 2010 Danny Amos Flynn The island being England? Or the Clotted Island Collective of Europe? 17 June 2010 Wally Woods The Clotted Island Collective of Wight 28 June 2010 Wally Woods YOU MUST COME BETWEEN "24 JULY & 6 AUGUST (or before) - big finalle to the Berlin chapter. Then I'm off to eat my swiss angel... 28 July 2010 Danny Amos Flynn Would you have a place for me to stay or would I have to pretend an interest in arty things and spilling source and breaking chair legs to stay awake all night? 28 July 2010 Wally Woods Dont be paranoid with good reason. Just come over. Place is fine, peaceful, no parties (almost) goin on till I leave for Zurich August 16 or so. Get on yer bike! See ya, Paul. 28 July 2010 Danny Amos Flynn But my bike tire is flat and bent. If that's ok, then why didn't you tell me that before you artiot! 29 July 2010 Wally Woods ...yeah yeah. You comin or not? 16 August 2010 Danny Amos Flynn Paul! Sorry, I have been inundated with emails and stuff. Even though I'm still not doing any paid work! Couldn't make it over. Are you ever returning to Berlin? Has Wallywoods been cleared for a new highway to drive fools even madder? I will be in Berlin in October. Dan. 17 August 2010 Wally Woods Hi Dan Though livin in Zurich I still have, and will have, a lot to do with Berlin, but wont be there much this year. I am keeping the keys to the community center (ex-Wallywoods) until at least end October, and you can always stay there cos the boys are lookin after the place for me. Then on 19 November, the local government against Woods meet in court, so I`ll be in Berlin for that. Will let you know any other dates I will be there, but will be just occasional long weekends. From 25 Sept to 4 Oct I'm in London and on the Island with my fiancé to meet the fam. So maybe see you here or there (or come to Zurich). Best wishin, Paul. Danny Amos Flynn 17 August 2010 Zurich's an idea. I'll find out exactly when my friend's band is going to Berlin in October. Perhaps my friends could play at Wallywouldn'ts. Here is their last reviewed gig, we were all drunk: The pièce de resistance of the evening came when Slapper took the stage. I'd seen their various motley made-up faces wandering about the bar, but it was only when they converged upon the stage together that one realised they were all in the same group. Slapper is a transportational feast of dada-esque whimsy and surrealist grunge-glam punk...I'm sort of confused to be honest. The bassist was wearing braces of black and yellow barrier tape and the guitarist was dressed as a nightmare monk, a sexy scantily clad Freddie Mercury look alike was on keyboards. The lead singer was a cross between Marcel Marceau, the MC from Cabaret and Fred Schneider from the B-52s and was occasionally interrupted, or maybe frightened away, by two larger Goth-inspired bodyguard figures that would howl syllables…or play the triangle. Frequent use was made of props like a stuffed dog or a cabbage and the 'lyrics' seemed to be in some mix of French and nonsense. I think their last song was a cover of Ice Ice Baby by Vanilla Ice, maybe. It's not easy to make something as random as this work, but Slapper - largely owing to the goofy talent of the lead singer and the general gusto of the whole assemblage - pulled it off with abundant charm and to hallucinogenic effect. As our MC said at the end of their set, 'a little bit glam, a little bit punk and so fucking avant-garde,' they were an inspired choice to represent the playful ethos of the Wotever World. Are you trying to hang onto the centre? Why are you going to court? We may have to see how we can 'do art' and make money in the future. Dan. 17 August 2010 Wally Woods Do you have a music or better, a vid link of the band? They can hang out at ex-Wallywoods, currently called Paradox Berlin. I am now looking to open, in a mini way to begin, Paradox Zurich. Then I will invite artists and nutters galore. Meanwhile, yes, we are being evicted from the culture center (Kulturhaus Weissensee), since almost a year now. Its a long story... As for making money from art, that is impossible in Berlin. Thats why I've come to Zurich - intend to correct the balance (hard to correct 18 years starving in Berlin). Hope to see ya here or there, PP Danny Amos Flynn 17 August 2010 The band is in Berlin from 30th September to 6th October. Although I could come a bit before that and stay a bit after that as well. Let em know if there's a way I could help with whatever is going on, and I will make it this time no matter what. I was invited to a free stay at an apartment in NY with a shoe designer too and never made it! I'm wasting my time in London. Dan. Danny Amos Flynn 17 August 2010 Danny Amos Flynn sorry, The band is in Berlin from 6th October and leaving 30th October. If I go at the same time then it would be great to get a free place to stay. Dan. 17 August 2010 Wally Woods Good. Until 31 October any of you can stay at Wallywoods (its a 14 minute tram ride from Alexander Platz in the former east city center. I will be there sometime during, but can't yet be sure. You should also check out the mad english bookshop where Alex Tornado and the Uglies hang out, "Another Bookshop" - referred to in my online diaries as Another Bookshop. Let me know and I will arrange it. Keep in touch - and don't let e-mails continue to interfere with more important global plans. Meantime, I want to make a conection and arrange some events at Caberet Volatare in Zurich, where Maya and I are living happily ever after - the guillotine perhaps, supported by The Ugly Americans etc. Keepin in touch, Paul. 17 August 2010 Danny Amos Flynn I'll arrange to go to Berlin at the beginning of October, probably the 1st if I can stop at Wallyplastics. I'll let the others know that it's possible they could stop over there too. I don't know what their plans are yet. Dan. The only other gig date we can do is Saturday 2nd October. With Spinster (an all girl lesbian band) too if that would be poss?. SLaPPers Alex and Jake have to leave on Sunday. A few of us are hanging around til the 6th. But we would need drums/PA/Amps (ie backline) all to be supplied which may be too tall an order. http://www.myspace.com/slappertime pics from last week's gig: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=189428&id=684638262 SLAPPER on MySpace Music - Free Streaming MP3s, Pictures & Music Downloads www.myspace.com MySpace Music profile for SLAPPER. Download SLAPPER Alternative / / music singles, watch music videos, listen to free streaming mp3s, & read SLAPPER's blog. Share 23 September 2010 Danny Amos Flynn Hi Paul, I've told Sue that you were busy earlier in the week - but I think she's worried about organising the Wallywoods gig so close to Saturday 2nd October. I don't have a phone number for you either so I can't call you. She needs to let the other band know too who are really keen to do it. I hope it's still on but we need to let them know for sure. They're wild, but an organised kind of wild. Dan. 25 September 2010 Wally Woods Hi Dan Would you like to suggest a meet tomorrow - we are at my brother's in Thatcham (West of London). Early evening? Where - maybe central so I can show Maya sometin of real London town - any recommendations (cheap etc)...? Can also phone tomorrow.. Danny Amos Flynn 26 September 2010 It's difficult to know which bar to go to because all the English ones are pretty dull, they're not like the European bars. Somewhere by the river? On the Southbank? Or central London? Soho? i can get to anywhere. 26 September 2010 Wally Woods Well, I think Maya and I must change the plan and meet anywhere you like in the city tomorrow. Thats because we got up late... we're in Thatcham and it costs 20 quid each return ticket, so we will get two day travel cards Monday and make better use of the whole day. Sorry I wont see Sue in that case, next time it must be. Sorry bout this, does it sound ok? Paul Danny Amos Flynn 26 September 2010 Danny Amos Flynn Ok, we'll meet up tomorrow then. I'll let Sue know and think of somewhere to meet. 26 September 2010 Wally Woods Thanks Danny - sorry again, but tomorrow we'll be more free; getting back here on a Sunday is also crap. Goin out now to see some local ducks (brother Mike has 5 kids). 03 October 2010 Wally Woods Hi ho Danny, How was it? No disasters I hope. How is Berlin? Enjoy your time..! Paul (still on the island) 03 October 2010 Danny Amos Flynn Hey! It was all filmed! It was great! And I´m afraid it´s Bobywoods now! Sorry about that! Have to run. x 06 October 2010 Danny Amos Flynn Re: Putting my slippers on. Hey, we're all back in London now. Wallywoods was better than White Trash! I had a few more sleepless nights. Speak to you later and catch up after I've had some sleep. Dan. 07 October 2010 Wally Woods Glad y'all enjoyed it. I'm still waiting to see a single photo - documentation of the dying Weissensee Wallywoods is now a priority (was it only our guys who took pics? Slow slow slow they are). W.Trash comment apprecated. Would you consider doing for me, or for whatever, a crit on the show(s) / the visit, for the records? Only if you had time. We had a lovely one in the jolly old Homeland. Will go again next spring. Was good to see you and look forward to the next time matey. Best of alls, and greets from Maya, Paul. 07 October 2010 Danny Amos Flynn The Wallywood boys were great! They put a lot of effort into making up the bar and everything. They filmed the whole thing too. I will see the Slapper band members at the weekend and we will get together a disc of photo's and find out about the film footage. Actually I was asked to announce the other band and after I said that someone had called the cops and that they would be there any minute wearing kimonos - the place cleared. 07 October 2010 Wally Woods Really? Only jokin. 07 October 2010 Danny Amos Flynn Yes really, I was a true Wally! Well Well the place didn't clear altogether and I did announce right away that it wasn't true and that the cops weren't coming and that that's what the next band was called but I was told that a group of good looking young Chinese looked really disappointed and worried and quickly left so I wish they hadn't! 07 October 2010 Wally Woods Rock'n'roll history mate. I or friend Ken ("the Spy") used to write little stories for the online diaries for every event, but got right out of the habit, sadly. Lazy me. Will you do one? If you can describe Wallywoods, to get it objectively, would be great too. I wanted to start updating the diaries anyway. Must write some texts myself, and get BACK IN THE HABIT. Danny Amos Flynn 07 October 2010 Yes, of course I will. I'm flattered that you asked me. Sue's going to gather all the pictures and film together for you too. 07 October 2010 Wally Woods Greatski. Thanks Danny. P.P. (http://www.paradoxberlin.com/diaries%202006.htm) WALLYS LOG 2006 www.paradoxberlin.com Diary extracts Share Danny Amos Flynn 10 November 2010 Hope... You can never see the same tomorrow once. I thought you knew that. 15 November 2010 Wally Woods I still got the keys... Danny Amos Flynn 16 November 2010 Well if you still have the keys you can turn it around. 16 November 2010 Wally Woods a real long shot... Danny Amos Flynn 16 November 2010 Danny Amos Flynn I know, I meant it just as a pun. I hope you can give them the keys and not lose any money though! I think it sounds like they're scared of you stopping so they threaten to slap rent on you. They're just a load of 'butlers' who have their eyes to the keyhole and see nothing! 17 November 2010 Wally Woods Well said. Now I keep the keys till Fridays court case. Real last minute stuff. 04 December 2010 Danny Amos Flynn Good to see you're all going to the Lemmy film and party. I noticed that my email to you with the details didn't send. I'm jealous! I want to go! 26 January Danny Amos Flynn Re: News off the microcosm. Hi Paul, I've just been given the basement of a studio in Old Street to set up screen-printing and letterpress rent free. I'll mail you some pictures later. Dan. 03 March Wally Woods Hi Danny! Maya and I are in London only from Sunday after till Monday afternoon (we are on the island now). We need a place to stay Sun nite (brothers and big sister all live way outside the city). Would be good to meet up - any ideas? Let us know... (and send me your number again..) Paul. 03 March Wally Woods Ok, Dan, we got a place to stay Sunday nite near Waterloo - let me know if we can meet - would love to find time to see your workshop... etc etc.. hopin to see you, Paul. (we fly away Monday late afternoon) 05 March Danny Amos Flynn Paul, I'll try and find out. Get back to you later tomorrow. 05 March Wally Woods If we dont have time to come to the studio we can at least meet for a drink... 05 March Danny Amos Flynn Have been printing and moving stuff around from one place to the other. I'll call you about somewhere to stop over for Sunday. I'm stopping temporarily in Oval. 05 March Wally Woods We are ok for a place to stay Sunday nite, just need to arrange where to meet Sunday afternoon, nite or Monday early afternoon. (Will be staying at Waterloo, not far from Oval) Danny Amos Flynn 05 March Danny Amos Flynn Ah, sorry to leave it so late getting back to you. I have to run out now and help somebody else move house. Bassist Sue from Slapper is coming back from Eastbourne at 9.00pm. She lives in Kings Cross. I'm in Oval, as a guest as you now know and the person I'm helping move had a spare room up in Hackney. You are sure you are sorted with somewhere? You have my number: 07584063207 I'll ring you later tonight. x 05 March Wally Woods Yes Dan, sure we're sorted, but thanks a lot. Yep, lets just speak later tonite (after 8pm).... pp!! Danny Amos Flynn 06 March Hi, Just got in. Don't know why I don't have your number. I can meet any time tomorrow. In Waterloo or elsewhere. There's a nice mojito bar behind Waterloo station but we could find a beer pub somewhere. speak to you in the morning. 06 March Wally Woods Grand - we get into Waterloo Station at 6.15pm today (Sunday). My new mobile is: 078 783 0114 (we have your number) - We can go straight to the Mojobo bar if you like and meet there? If so tell me exactly where it is, or we could meet later... Our number on the island till we leave at 3pm is (0)1983 407274 By the way, my number is actually (from UK) is 0041 78 783 0114 Danny Amos Flynn 06 March Danny Amos Flynn It's called Cubana bar and restaurant. From Waterloo main station you make your way round to the right (away from the Imax on the roundabout) towards the exit on Waterloo Road which heads towards the Old Vic Theatre and turn right before that down Lower Marsh Road. (Not Bayls Road). You should be able to see it lit up like a mojito bar in front of a car park. I could meet you both there. i'll wait for you there wearing a clean red bandana. http://www.cubana.co.uk/about/index.phtml#opening/ About | Cubana Bar-Restaurant www.cubana.co.uk Monday and Tuesday Midday to Midnight Wednesday and Thursday Midday to 1am Friday Midday to 3am Saturday 3pm to 3am Sundays and Bank Holiday Mondays ? Closed Late Night Live Salsa Music Wednesdays and Thursdays 11.00pm-1.00am Fridays and Saturdays 11.00pm to 3.00am Happy Hour Share 06 March Wally Woods OK Thats the plan: we land at Waterloo at 18.15 and invade Cuba. Will be good to see you there..! I had a beer there years ago with our mysterious Uncle Peter (RIP) on a short visit from a mad life in USA 06 March Danny Amos Flynn Excellent! x 22 July Danny Amos Flynn Wil be able to get over. Sorry been too hectic to respond. Tell you about everything when I see you. Fill me in on what's happening again and I'll come on over. 22 July Wally Woods Great to hear. At the website www.paradoxberlin.com (old name but indeed Zurich) click on EVENTS on top menue - there you'll see whats planned at the moment. Indeed possible is a week's show of your own or together with artists you recommend, or a one-off (dont forget its quite a small place). But thats not obligatory. Or just come for the crack and/or discuss further plans. Either way, tell us roughly what dates you are considering and for aprox how long... 23 July Danny Amos Flynn hey 23 July Wally Woods gotta run today man..! Consider yerself booked. Just get a ticket... 23 July Danny Amos Flynn ha ok spek to youlater 23 July Wally Woods ok 20 September Danny Amos Flynn Hey, had an email note but it doesn't connect to facebook. You can stop in the shop Stoke Newington if I haven't moved again.When are you over? 21 September Wally Woods That would be great - we fly to London on 16 October and stay just a day or two then head south to the Island. Would be good to see ya. Is there bathroom, sofa-bed at the shop? Where is it? 21 September Danny Amos Flynn Yes, the shop has a shower and kitchen and garden and I can lend an inflatable mattress. although I am seeing about taking on a contract for a year at the shop on the 8th October. It's up in Stoke Newington, above Dalston. 10 minutes on the bus to Shoreditch. If I move I will let you know and you should be able to stay wherever I move to. I'm getting tired of London. 22 September Wally Woods Ok Danny, thanks a lot. Keep us informed. Look forward to meetin up - wherever... PP 14 October Wally Woods Hi Danny. We're booked into a hotel Sunday night (travel to the Island Monday) called "H10" (284 to 302 Waterloo Road) Should get there around 8, freshen up, and pop out locally, maybe South Bank. If you can make it would be lovely. My mobile: 0041 (0)78 783 0114 (not sure how that works with the codes). Do I have yours? Bests, Paul. 14 October Wally Woods (We'll be staying not at that hotel but another. Will let ya know..) 15 minutes ago Wally Woods Did you see your new info at the website? www.paradoxberlin.com 15 minutes ago Danny Amos Flynn hey, just looking now 14 minutes ago Wally Woods under coordination 14 minutes ago Danny Amos Flynn I should send you the poster artwork I did in case you want to use it. Do you use illustrator? 13 minutes ago Wally Woods Maya does I use ps 12 minutes ago Danny Amos Flynn Well see if you can open the one I send. I think it might be linked to all the letterpress letter scans do you want anything bringing over from england? You've just left I know no dope! 10 minutes ago Wally Woods pleez only use the word j form now on matey more later, gotta go ciaooooo Danny Amos Flynn 9 minutes ago Got to get going from here. Will mail you later. Oh! I see! Oh no! Jesus 9 minutes ago Wally Woods I see him too. Danny Amos Flynn 9 minutes ago I meant the plaster cast Pope 8 minutes ago Wally Woods Same thing. Danny Amos Flynn 8 minutes ago See you later then. 8 minutes ago Wally Woods ok...
November 1
MY MAYA
This is all it says about my closest guarded secret, Mrs Maya Malfatti Woods, at the website index page:
"Graphic designer, busy curator, lazy artist."
October 31
RETURNED YESTERDAY
from two weeks in the UK. Dad growing stronger. We can go back to worrying about Mum. On a day out in their automatic Polo, Maya and I visited for the first time Stonehenge, which is exactly half the size I expected, though I hardly expected the thousand visitors blocking the windy views, traipsing endlessly around those old rocks, wherever they come from, the rocks and the people, like an infidel's Mecca. The sense of anything historic or spiritual must be caught another time, when we return on an off-peak rainy weekday while the kids are locked in school and something enormous is happening on X-Factor - sadly a principal preoccupation in the new millennium's Great Britain. In London Maya met James for the first time and wife-to-be Jackie. Marvelous to know him now as a grown-up, and still growing. He is getting bigger and the more drunk he gets, the closer he resembles Mike, beyond the mere limitless appetite for booze. Elsewhere, we stayed at Liam's counsil flat, which they are about to buy (his family were at Bognor Regis while new carpets are fitted); and at a couple of B&Bs in Pimlico. Both those haunts (all, it seems from the street) run by foreign extended families and mafiosos who surely can't believe their luck, allowed to run these once gorgeous Georgian buildings into the dirt as they wish, into dens and bordellos and who knows what. An eastern European girl on the desk didn't want passports or an address, as if they might be harmful. In the first, the heating was off and we froze. At the girl's place, owned by pimpish guys with fat cars we saw in the morning, the bed, neatly made at a glance, collapsed when we sat on it to check out the broken TV. Maya was terrified of taking fleas away with us. I was mildly worried about never waking up. But we found a decent Indian around there, something London excels at, and I rediscovered the dubious allure of local pubs - the nearest to which might be found on the Continent being over-priced Irish Pubs which miss the point entirely. The Charlie Chaplin at Elephant & Castle was so run down (I remembered it otherwise) that it inspired. Like the shopping center itself, which has never changed since I spent my pocket money there. Here must be enormous opportunity for mural and design work! I thought, quickly considering the long-planned return to Home City. Liam agreed, and aided by Dan's connections to begin with (the Slapper concert in Brixton was a druggy highlight), setting up a multi-functioning Paradox London Projects can't be the impossibility I previously feared. Anyway until that, or whatever else happens, we are in Zurich to the end of March 2012 launching the decorating thing left over from Berlin, with PZP as headquarters and, if things go well, large scope for making... er, what was that stuff called again..?
Speaking of which, there are three letters on the kitchen table I am physically afraid to open. If one is a letter-bomb, I may be relieved. I have done nothing on the burocratic side of my so-called self-employment in Zurich, (missing Ulrich terribly), and that in the most expensive business community in the world, corrupt or otherwise. Paperwork has always been something to put off; the main reasoning behind which has been in recent years, that the Thing (or whatever I was working on) will shortly make the headlines and all related problems become instant history.
Jobs now are: SORT THAT CRAP OUT; help Maya make the murals catalog; clear more space in the gallery for Michel's forthcoming exhibition which opens Saturday; put off a certain somebody from attending; further continue to harass poor Denis for what the bugger owes us; attach Wolfgang's display-case to the outside of the gallery and fill it with pictures and information about interior design; keep my extraordinarily lovely wife happy in the face of bankruptcy whilst convincing her that we relocate to the UK regardless of our financial status on, let's say, the day after PZP closes (April Fools Day), thus completing the triangle and enforcing the ever-nearing possibility of generating well paid work and useful exhibitions in those three cities. Kind of a Bemusing Triangle...
Tonight is Halloween. It has grown monstrous in the UK, like gang crime, crime shows, owning weapons as a hobby, X-Factor copies, McDonalds culture (now curiously green) and everything else the States so generously infects us with. All this stuff, the worst of what that place represents, is sweeping across Europe and the planet like an intoxifying tsunami. No city is safe from Glee and the effect it has upon the children of careless parents everywhere. If the world's woes spring, as is widely agreed and ignored, from ignorance and poverty, a small glimmer of hope lies in the Yanks addressing with determination their own ignorance and poverty. Which will never happen. The self-crowned leaders of the Human species require, as the seven-billionth baby is born to grow up in a self-made MTV mobile-phone clip, a dignifying kick in the arse: "Make it work guys, then export it!"
October 12
NOT REALLY A CITY OF CULTURE
more a city of cultured and uncultured professionals with very clean shoes. Drone bees busy in the most luxurious hive, sadly queenless, lacking passion outside the football stadium and curiosity outside their own doors. Like any other secluded village probably. Quietly uncomfortable out of working hours the larger population do not require brain food; not the slightest intellectual strain above the latest Woody Allen film. They spend energy and earnings on affordable drugs and harmless entertainments between endless bouts of comparing trivialities at coffee bars and physical-improvement boutiques. "There are so many galleries in Zurich!" one hears so often from the so easily satisfied. But those tired society-meets in which Opening Night is all, palatial or quaint, public or private, are clones of one another, their ring-leaders, hallowed mini-celebrities, terrified of breaking the norm, of staining the white walls. The latte-warm status quo. Indeed, as folk of blatant quality and taste in anything of value, they may well be caught seeking out exceptional art - the curators I mean, not their faithful followers, who are happiest with an exceptional cappuccino. But then, not for the art’s sake, and only for the artist's if that artist be a knowable asset, a worthy talker of correct talk, an admirable mirror to its admirable mentors and groupies. No wonder the sporadic squat scene here is well visited, though that too be undermined by short-sightedness, self-interest and snobbery, plus a fatalism depressing to see among young alternatives. It is ALL about image. And that horrible non-attribute coolness. And fascinating little heaps of coffee and cocaine-smudged money brightly lit in the middle of every eventless, polished floor. Amid mortal fear of staining shoes and reputation: to be seen in the wrong place communing with the wrongly equipped people.
I am building a guillotine opposite the playground and nobody has noticed. They are afraid to look or simply do not care. I should have known. They still refuse to accept that chocolate is harvested by child slaves in Africa. They are afraid to look or simply do not care. This is not a healthy city for the terminal outsider and cynic I am. Not professionally; though I thought it would be exactly that. Just look at the creative types we have met, bent under unseen, unspoken-about weight - some kind of shame - almost every one. Utopia cannot exist.
Not yet a healthy city, I may add, if I bother reviving damaged optimism.
October 6
GETTING NOWHERE
aber schnell! Working afternoons on the guillotine, that's something. All thanks to Maya, who still carries the complete burden. On good days get a lot done, feel inspired, top of the world. But more often, attach no more than two or three little chunks of wood to the Thing, picked from the thousands of remaining bits spread out on a board or the floor. They get packed away in a box again (and again) to accommodate whatever guest exhibition is on. Those are usually enjoyable to set up, and disappointing in result. But what the hell, that's what we're here for. You dig your own grave. The Thing is completed in my mind, just needs finishing. Been saying that for almost two years. It could take another year at this rate, but what the hell, that's what we're here for. Wish to have it ready enough by end of March, by which time we leave the shop, which we've grown to love, in a casual way, probably not to return. I can't generate the money to pay a month's rent, let alone consider staying on at three or more times that after the renovation. The satisfying "success" of Denis' paintings show has yielded no cash to date. Four paintings sold, to people who can afford them. Wow. So what went wrong? Typical artist: huge confidence in his own abilities, scornful of others', enormous ego actually made of eggshell, avoidance of everyday hurdles like getting to places or paying for things, and promises broken. Promises to others, promises to one's self, makes no difference. Again and again and again. Suffocates one's own success with one's chosen lifestyle. Echos of Shaw's words, "The true artist will let his wife starve, his children go barefoot, his mother drudge for his living at seventy, sooner than work at anything but his art".
I should know.
I feel handicapped on various levels. (Haven't I always been?) Getting nowhere, fast. Despite the fine woman behind this venture. Despite this love come late in my life, my talents, hopes, plots and pleadings. Despite the Thing, the Masterpiece, sitting in black silhouette on the blinding horizon, complete and proven, marking a Promised Land.
We visit the folks in a week or two. All looking forward to it. Dad is still alive. The family is always there. I'm recovering (yes, I shall to recover too) from this existential knock on the head. The dull reality of Zurich. Its richly average cultural landscape. Its art snobs and cowards everywhere. Plan now is, fill the shop window with photos of ancient wall paintings made in Berlin to rally work decorating apartments, bars, whatever. Oh, that again! It should work though; the documentation is good. Lordy its good. We spent days scanning photographs; Maya is making a catalogue. But the stuff is OLD. Lordy it's old. However, if experimenting with ground-breaking art in a careless city is pretty much pointless, then decorating some rich fool's toilet will at least bring home a bit of bread; the only ingredient still missing, as I've long preached to my invisible congregation. A simple plan then. Will Probably involve getting out of bed...
It's getting cold in the shop now. We should contact the old geezer soon and beg him to turn the heaters on. At no extra cost, as far as I remember the contract; let's see. Not that I mind much. Shudder at the very thought of that last Winter at the Kulturhaus; but we survived, used the time well in fact. Ghostly memories. Heating then is principally for Maya, occasional guests, and Bere the kindly musician and PZP supporter, who brings a small Latin crowd now on our regular Saturday evenings. This Saturday evening we break the habit of a lifetime and start charging on the door.
What else has happened? Some nice poetry and performance with nice Habib and friends. The odd compliment. Almost no writing or work accomplished at home, but a lot of DVDs watched. Breakdowns in Mrs Woods' endless patience with poor Hubby. Getting behind with bills and paperwork - an understatement. And levels of resignation rising to absorb a floundering spirit.
Just finish the Thing!
September 19
"FREE CUBA
from ancient embargos. Encourage the people to think freely and appreciate neighbourly conduct whilst moraly undermining their rediculous cave-man government."
So tempting to post useless stuff like that on FB. Someone I never heard of 'liked' it and Windy made a comment, something about cigars. I deleted it just now, having noticed a rediculous spelling mistake impossible to correct.
September 16
AFTER A WHILE DIGESTING IT
I told Maya that the opening of my latest exhibition was one of the most disappointing moments of my life. As pretty the evening looked and was, fun and creative among new friends and a couple of kids, as used as I am to so few people turning up to one of my occasions (now one of our occasions) no matter how much greater the expectations during build up, as many postcards as we sent out to important and influential people and organisations; no-one of importance or influence appeared or even contacted us. Not even Maria. But as usual, what is there to do but get on with it? I have the opportunity at least to get on with the guillotine for a while, which I picked up at bank-breaking cost the week before, along with two Broken Pianos and a new broken piano I bought from Wolfgang, trusty friend and most accommodating long-distance driver. A rare opportunity, this bit of wood-work, so busy I have been promoting the art of other artists in two cities, deserving and undeserving, grateful or pissy and arrogant after the fact. Compared to the completion of the guillotine, the culmination of half a life’s work in one beautiful monstrosity, all else is secondary; even the question of my income, or absolute lack of it, which is all-overshadowing. Always. This is Zurich after all, where a kebab costs four or five times the price it does in Berlin. Needless to say I don't eat kebab now, and oddly enough, hardly miss it. As I hardly miss that fantastic location that was Weissensee’s Kulturhaus – which I will still be paying for into next year, naughty anarchist I may have been.
But we are here now, in the little studio-gallery we built for a penny in a rich town, painted pink, filled with P.P.'s clutter and dreams. Making the best of it. Hardly a soul enters during this, my grand three-week Piano Thrones show. Some of the finest conceptual work anyone might witness and perhaps appreciate, anywhere, today.
Leaving me time to make headway on, and surely one day unveil, my favourite obsession: The Fully Functioning Flying Guillotine Piano Throne.
July 17
DAD MORTALLY ILL
Flew to the Island on the ticket he booked a while ago to get me over for James and Jackie's engagement party (I haven't met her yet) being held in a tent next Saturday, which I won't now attend. Plan was, to see the whole family together, by which I mean the six of us mainly, for the first time in many years. Since then Dad has fallen horribly sick. Something we don't understand went wrong with his neck, which swelled up in a couple of days like a bullfrog's. He spent a week in a coma caused by the barrage of drugs, and now lays hallucinating with his throat hanging out in Portsmouth's big hospital, which isn't even in Portsmouth, adding travelling time and costs to the shared stress. None of which, as deeply worried as we all are, can come close to his own. He detests hospitals, with very good reasons spanning a lifetime, as much as he distrusts so many heartless fools disguised poorly as angels who love to control them. I hope to return later in the the week to Maya and the brighter new situation(*). Bringing forward the Zurich to London flight cut our long-planned holiday in Italy in half. Her family villa, on mother Ruth's side, is in a village in Ponte, on the side of the Massive Lake or whatever it's aptly called, and no-one but us were there to enjoy it. We felt like millionaires. Luxury indeed, especially in the dark light of that family's notorious religious pompousness (Ruth herself far aside) which I have no intention of suffering first hand. A particularly bad time to part then, and the sight of Dad wasted away in a machine-crammed critical care unit, gurgling through his open throat, was harrowing. But he was awake and alive. And, always looking on the bright side, I did escape those terrible terrible mosquitos.
(*Bright at that time. Shortly after, personal catastrophe hit. The two of us, at least, survived our saddest month. Dad survived too, and praised us all for contributing. I shall long remember that group hug outside the pub - James' idea, naturally - before we split up again, to return to our variously troubled and hopeful paths and spouses, Mike, Paul and James; middle-aged brothers at large. Combined, a force to be reckoned with, not just in a pub.)
June 16
FOURTH AFTERNOON
in the new routine. Spent most of it getting the shop window ready to paint. Then ran out of paint. I've long dreamed of a Schaufenster at a place like this. People walking by, looking in, that kind of thing. Not coming in yet though, for that need to clean up the outside. Paint the door and frames red, put out a table with a bit of eye candy; who cares what. Toe-nail ice-cream. But real Laufpublikum, right at the doorstep! Oh luxury. They all need something to look at. Since Saturday they can look at two paintings by John-Karl, donated by Ruth who paid two grand for them. Canny guy, John-Karl. But then he left Maya and left Zurich and left all these drawings in her cellar. A smudgy treasure trove. Broken hearted. Well, possibly. But Maya needed to breath after seven years stable unhappiness. Then a year or so with Troy or whatever his name was, the flying saucer conspiracist. Nice guy too, apparently. Complete nut. She broke down, finally gave up attempting to cure him, recovered, began to enjoy freedom for about the first time, then let me take it from her forever. I cancelled Berlin without a second thought, glad to be giving up the Kulturhaus struggle anyway. Couldn't win without long dreamed of support from professionals, for instance, with nothing better to do than help me, the disputed nobody, save one of their own culture centres. Took a little while for Wifey to grasp why I moved out of there and in with her so easily. I had been waiting for years for just that opportunity. And now... our very own Schaufenster! With Laufpublikum! What more do I need?
MONEY
Oh yes. Like, sell something man! A John-Karl wonky Berlin tower-block facade. 600 bucks a big one. 280 a small one. Or Ruth's badly mounted paintings, 2,500 the pair. If not, my soul again. Or a postcard... Back to square one. Where I’ve always been, in fact. Where I do best.
BUT NOT WHERE I BELONG
One visitor so far today. A girl on a bike looking for a workspace in which to make arty films. (Sorry, this cosy gem is taken.) Spanish or Italian, anyway smiley, hopeful, typical. Her boyfriend plays Latino music. Yes, sure, I said, they should come by, work something out. Every other Saturday we have a little gathering. Meet the neighbours. Just don't get too drunk, too loud, too whacked. Sick of that already. Ought to quash it after last Saturday's half-invited group invaded (ok, we thought, all guests welcome here at the start) only to drown out the little concert with excited yap and use our toilet constantly. Far better that nice girl bring her nice friends. I don't have any yet.
People, Maya included, keep telling me we need artists to make this project work.
CHRIST ALL FRIGGING MIGHTY
Finding artists is the least of our problems. They crawl out the frigging woodwork. I knew they would, soon as we opened the frigging door. What I need, have always needed, nothing more and nothing less, is wealthy cunts to buy cheap yet exellent fucking art. And where are they? Come on, where are they!
BUGGERS
And we need to get on the Net. Apart from that we got everything; even a kettle since last night, compliments our neighbour who now gives us things for reasons unknown. I guess it's the way I look, clearly penniless. Is only a little tricky getting online with zero Swiss bucks, the oldest Apple in town, the technical know-how of a bull elephant, a wonderful Mrs Wallywoods whose pockets turn out not to be deep as our love, and no Andy, Maik, nor even a Sir Thomas to call upon in emergencies.
"Do you miss Berlin?" wonders Mrs Wallywoods, all big-eyed and motherly. My second family all in one, she is. "Hardly at all!" I assure, quite honestly.
Right now I miss the Internet more than a joint. These ramblings go on a stick until 7pm, closing time. So some things work after all.
June 14
BRAVE NEW SITUATION
Yesterday I put the opening hours of the new place which Maya printed at home in the door of the new place which Maya basically pays for. We should be sharing the rent, till I can pay it all, and everything else. She will give up the work she hates and we’ll live comfy ever after. Sitting here now six days a week since yesterday, after five weeks cheaply renovating the shit hole it was, between 2pm and 7pm at Ida Square in the rainy Summer in Zurich, I forgive myself for wondering if anyone will wander in sometime very soon please and buy a John-Karl drawing we dug out the cellar or a bit of old anything else, proving I was right all along. ”Just let me open the door and it, whatever it is, will be a hit.” My famous words since we casually began searching for our (my) dream gallery-type-place last summer. It must work though. I have no other plan. No other job, no sponsor, no dosh and no willpower either side of the road I set myself on back in Berlin, which I hardly miss by the way.
This was no mistake. But people are quite as shy and frightened by art – especially my way of doing it - here as anywhere else. I realise now with sadness and no little trepidation.
And Maya wants twins. Today she said again, of course half tongue-in-cheek, “do finish a Throne and sell it!” Sure thing Babe. That’s the real plan, we both agree. But as I noted the other day, during this general down of easing off the kiff, this general face-reality-at-last down, I’m THIS close to succeeding for so long; but I’ve been THIS fucking close for so long I may well be THIS FUCKING CLOSE till the day I drop into the ground and give up.
A bunch of fillings have fallen out over the last week.
April 28
UNTIL LATE INTO THE NIGHT
I skimmed the web to learn anything at all about Quantum Thinking. This after a failed discussion in Vienna last week on Quantum Physics with Maya’s dad; experimental composer (he would disagree with the term) and all round clever bloke. He disagreed with everything I said. And why not; I know little while he knows everyone involved. "Quantum Thinking" was my own term - I wrongly thought before looking it up - my unpedantic answer to all the remaining questions of the universe, tied up in a bow, ready to include among the lengthening list of ideas on the bright new website. But the Net is full of "Quantum Thinking", so now I understand my own invention better than I realised. It's easy. Imagine something happens. Then put the necessary components together in such a way that something indeed happens. And behold, exactly the thing you wanted to happen, happens. The sky is not the limit. Only the great human imagination sets the boundaries, and a bit of old-fashioned inventiveness is all that's required to conjure or transform... well, anything. These and other questionable solutions ravaged my brain as I flopped into bed in the early hours. So many ideas I hardly slept. But I must have, because the dreams were vivid, and all made perfect sense.
Woke up in daylight to read the following notes, in the form of a list, from the bedside crate we use as a table:
Need 1001 / Some day complete all of them / Mary Ocher's Moustaches (actually Hitler's) / Richard Branson / Philosophical Philosophy / Fortunate Misfortune / Brain Calming (opposed to Brain-storming) / Carpet Decoration (with two photos) / Money for the Poor (Artist!) / Carry On Filming (film title) / Humour (have you heard the one...) / Sculpture City (this one with a rare sketch) / Bronze Everything (in sight) / Brainstorm (traditional / invent your own) / Problem Solving Service (Send us your problem and WE WILL SOLVE IT) / Satisfaction Guaranteed / Consultancy (see above) / Original Thought (there is no such thing as unoriginal thought) / Inspire Yourself (see above) / War (outlaw war) / Sales & Service / Lateral Thinking / D.A.F. / Borders / Autism / Quantum Physics influence on dreams (real, sense, order, plot surprises)
which continues with notes on a dream, still as a list:
Children at a kind of Tate Modern. Place I've known in dreams before. Adult helpers. Kids feel free, yet are careful to consider what they've been taught. Conditions. After each class, adult helpers plaster the walls over. I wish to get involved, knowing I can do that job as well as any helper. I mean, what are they doing painting over wonderful work the kids have just completed? (I've done that often enough myself; but not even to take a photograph beforehand?) Some are "difficult" kids, some are crippled. Up on a platform built for them to work on higher walls. I'm at the school (it is a school of sorts, too). Large sums spent on materials and preparation (more than I suspected, I discover later). What is the German word for "smudged"? "Why don't you stop them while (their work) looks terrific?" And it does. A 3D spider's web, brilliant neon-like colours, surprisingly sophisticated symmetry. Couldn't do better myself. But the kids, being kids, take up blobs of paint or whatever they are using and finally destroy that grand effect, even smudging it to rubbish with their hands! One guy is particularly annoying. I want to shout in his face the plain truth, to make him shrink and shut up: "But I'm a genius you useless fart!" Wanting to work, I shout instead: "I'm good! Can't you handle that? I'm asking for your help. We're both artists. Whats your problem?" He says, "You're always hanging around, demanding attention, angling for short-cuts and favours. But this is not YOUR place and you'll NEVER get a job here! Now GO AWAY!"
and the list, like my memory of the dream, gets murky:
My flat-mate Edwardo is doing your website for you. I do all my own! All the programming. But I understand his mistrust. I asked a friend of Edwardo's to help (reckon that's Kushtrim). Edwardo? I don't know any Edwardo. He hates me, though he's been quiet on that score, has not said a word. I didn't even know he knew me. As much as I detest physical dealings and would never strike someone... but in this ridiculous situation. "Do they all feel this way?" I ask him angrily: "Let me speak to the boss" (of this kind of Tate Modern)."Anyone. Give me a card, an e-mail address!" He feigns searching his pockets but insults me again instead. Something about wearing odd knickers. (That's Maya's complimenting my light-grey underpants.) I pretend to be furious and approach him as if to punch out his lights. He gets the message at last and runs, suddenly a coward, through a side door in the huge hall. But I'm certain he'll return to taunt me. I can't stand it. I escape the place, quickly but not running, with dignity, through a short-cut passed the cafeteria (appears to be the B.F.I. bar where I worked on the South Bank). A wheel-chair. Take a piece of this! (Don't know what that refers to or who said it.) A once attractive middle-aged lady who doesn't like me. My mural-painting partner Frieda Rommel, whose father was a known DDR sculptor. More attractive but less bright. (Frieda was not bright, but I don't know why she crops up). (Completely lost the thread by now.) Jeremy. Kushtrim. Feelings of not getting on.
Ends with a word from that annoying helper:
"Upstart!"
April 27
WHILST MAYA WORKS IN THAT DICKENSIAN ENVELOPE FACTORY
I can't even bike over to meet her for lunch. Too busy. Or merely preoccupied. Thinking mostly. Fretting, forever plotting. Brainstorming 1001 ways to resolve a life-long paradox which cannot be resolved without utter success; basic survival of the poor extraordinary artist. At home - first home of my own, bright and loving - earning nothing, shrinking from any idea of proletarian work, which would by now do me in, spiritually, creatively, as surely as close-starvation did physically in the bad first ten years of Berlin. Since dumping the dole system there to live here in luxury, life is mildly imploding. To be sure, the first six months were dreamy, as we knew they would be. But as I suddenly can't afford to rent that small shared studio next to the envelope factory in order to push on with at least the Theater Throne, I haven't felt so lost since pre-Wallywoods desperation. Though I understand well I am not desperate. Nothing like that. Creatively lost, I imply. Hence an awakening interest in the deconstructive art of writing. That at least is fulfilling, like extravagant doodling. Never-the-less, little has soured. I have landed after all in atheist's heaven shared with an atheist angel of biblical loveliness. My mug overfloweth, non-monetarily speaking; but so does my frustration. Thus, accepting the business of daily life outside the haven of Wallywoods, at once sorely and scarcely missed, I cleaned the kitchen floor and windows today, which impressed the hell out of both of us, and alleviated minor home tensions forensically and temporarily. Tomorrow I'm on the toilet and hallway. Vital occupation mimicking real work as I bide my brain-time... and quality brain-time it is. Somehow I am growing, gaining, always testing the gears. Regardless of a taunting, nostalgic, severely cracked rear-view mirror. Returning from Vienna yesterday and a testing visit to Maya's other familiy, whom she loves dearly, I had reason to doubt everything south of Schönefeld, believing perhaps my character can never withstand transportation into acceptable reality. As if a new breed of physics is needed. Or a soul transplant. But the ream of ideas, the all-encouraging scheme of things, my own remarkable scheme of things, are clear as my purpose and road. A road upon which there is no place for doubt, and certainly none for doubling back. From where I sit now, I sent a couple of messages, this glorious afternoon while the sun - not this solitary moon - mocked my fabulous new imprisonment through our unwashed office window. That one I'll clean next month. The first sped off to my better half, who gives me everything, and now sleeps between shifts in that horrible envelope factory. The second careered reluctantly towards 3,746 people in Facebook party-land, who don't give a damn. And why should they.
"My Dear. Sorry about lunch; cleaning and writing about piano-thrones today. At last. I wish I had enough energy to do all the things I want to. Sometimes I get overwhelming feelings of panic that I am accomplishing so little so slowly. At those times it is very hard to do something just for pleasure, like take a break, sit in the sun, visit my Lady, or even eat. I just want to 'work', when I can, as best I can, as long as I can - before I get lazy or depressed again. I know I've told you that before. Over and over. But I know too, it's hard for you to really understand. I am an 'artist' and what I consider extremely important may have nothing to do with daily life, wider life, or anything else. But I can't help it. Without my art, planning my art, writing about my art, dreaming about my art... I am nothing. That is me, that's all. But that is NOT a negative thing. I can love you too. Back to real life. Although I put in the correct pin number, my i-Phone won't send texts or call out. Am looking into the problem. I cleaned the top of the fridge. Yum yum. Gonna do the windows. But first, gonna make beans... Look forward to seeing my Maya. Love above all, your Paul."
"...After much reorganisation I have begun writing about the human-rights project "the 12 Piano Thrones" in continuing attempts to interest ONE journalist and/or ONE sponsor. They are a series of 12 fully working execution machines built from 12 upright pianos - a huge endeavour, which may never be completed without long-deserved support and assistance. Death penalty methods MUST be discussed!"
April 10
HALCYON NIGHTMARE
Finest Summer weather outside, sun pouring through the windows inside. Spring hardly occured. People in shorts, cafe tables filled with loungers, barbeques already a weekend feature. Will soon be tanned; others already are. Incredible contrast to recent never-ending Winters in Berlin. Global warming at its most charitable.
April Fools Day
HALLO MR MORSIL
"I am contemporary artist Paul Woods, born in London, matured in Berlin, now active in Zurich. I would like to appear on Art City's list of artists, but especially I would like to be considered for a review. i.e., something in depth. Please tell me what to send and to which address in each case. This is my recently revamped website, including links and images (www..). Although I have been dubbed some kind of genius by foolish fellow artists as well as upstanding ones, my underground roots and spikey character have put off occasional journalists over my most important recent years. Clearly my career can only advance upon being explored, written about and at last exploited. After all, years of starving can result in death. Here is what appears on the 'Wallywoods' page at Saatchi Online:
'Born London 1964. Didn't like school. Conceptual artist, founder & curator of Wallywoods Berlin, creator of Berlin Big Chairs, leader of the 12 piece Broken Pianos Orchestra, published poet, writer of Wally's Log, inventor of Paradox Paul's functioning Time Machine (yes, it functions; wealthy sponsor required), father of the 'Million Minus Euros' alternative financial system for artists, discoverer of the Napoleon Photograph (photography expert & writer required), squatter of the Weissensee Culture Center in Berlin, sketcher of half-a-million chairs on said culture-center walls & ceilings, constructor of the Flying Guillotine Piano Throne - one of 12 Piano Thrones, each made from a complete piano, all equally execution contraptions (gunsmith & sword-maker required), for which a London exhibition in the not distant future would almost finally satisfy this excitingly undiscovered conceptual artist & art show organiser.'
Yours willingly... etc."
(Never answered. What a cunt.)
March 26
HAD A BRILLIANT IDEA
last night and posted a surprise event for April 1: three art parties with video link-up, auctions and who knows what, to take place "somewhere in Zurich, somewhere in Berlin and somewhere in London". This morning I deleted the brilliant idea, realising April 1 is at the end of this week, which is like saying, April 1 is today. Which of course it is, if you are reading this on April 1, no matter what the year. But the intention was sound. It's taking a jiffy longer setting up a gallery in Zurich as I had planned, so why not do more stuff "in exile" or "on the road", announcing "Paradox World Projects" are already up and running, which they virtually are. Could even earn a buck on the side (or on three sides) which also fits the plan.
The weak link is London. Why Dan the Man doesn't even answer my messages I can't fathom. I may be forced to demote him.
March 23
DEAR DIARY
Long time no see, no hear, no write. Last live entry was TO SQUAT OR NOT TO SQUAT on November 20, 2009. Here's what it currently warns at the blog link at the website:
"I stopped writing my online diaries when real life finally caught up with my expectations of it, crushing major reserves of energy and forcing yet more priority changes (i.e., activity cuts). And the HTML programming got bummed out ages ago due to the minor differences between browsers (that damned FONT command) and I lost all interest in performing another tedious website overhaul. But I've started again now, intending to fill gaps with texts stored haphazardly here and there, rabbiting as ever on and on into a rosier than rosy future... and quite an eventful past by now."
So, Diary, welcome back into my life. I've hardly missed you at all. Me? I am quite the poor artist as ever, thank you. But rich in experience - for what experience may be worth, compared to, say, success. I've been Jumping. Things here and now are quite different. Indeed VERY different, thank the stars. Though truthfully, I thank mainly myself. No, wait, let me thank my wife. Yes, that is correctly typed: my WIFE, of exactly three months yesterday. It feels for the both of us that it was yesterday - as indeed it was, relatively speaking. I thought it would never happen, or could never happen. Perhaps should never happen. And it nearly didn't. (Subtle are the ways of the Machine.) Remember Maya from the Comic Shop? Well, how shall I put it...
HOOK, LINE AND SINKER!
That's the crucial update. Plus the fact that I am SICK of programming and repairing these HTML pages. Which is just one of the reasons I've put it off so long. But somehow I am back in the present. In case you too have just returned to Earth, here's one of today's many terrible headlines:
RADIATION REACHES EUROPE
Greetings from Zurich, my new home town. (Zurich is not the capital of Switzerland, which is not part of Europe.)
March 15
INTRODUCTION FROM THE REVAMPED WEBSITE:
"I am taking a break from building Piano Thrones to redevelop this website and organise an art space in Zurich together with my wife Maya and whoever wishes to join us. Innovation and productivity are the keys to headway in an art world which seems at times, especially to those who relentlessly refuse to comply to mainstream expectations, to be buried beneath self-interest and centuries of defensively strewn museum dust. Lots of links and info still to be added. All projects listed are my own, past & future, unless otherwise clearly stated. Some history of my six year gallery & events project(s) in Berlin, which kept me busy learning the trade and forging healthy alliances across the world, can be found under 'Wallywoods' near the bottom of this page. Supported initiatives will not be solely my own; if it appears so at first glance it is because the concept at this stage, though long considered, is embryonic. I foresee organic growth and inclusion of boundless new ideas from imaginative partners, not just in Europe, but from places I haven't yet heard of. Though I live now in Zurich, my passion for Berlin, plus fresh connections with some old friends in my home-town London, have encouraged me to set up this triangular model of creative exchange based around these three cities. Principally, right now, partners are required in all aspects of building a rewarding alternative cultural business, whilst never foregoing the fundamental enjoyment of Art for all concerned. That is introduction enough I think. Please enjoy clicking around - at the risk of losing yourself within over 600 pages of ideas & documentation covering 10 years of this website, formerly known as wallywoods.com - and never be shy to contact myself, M.M. or Mr Flynn with your own original concepts, enquiries and criticisms. After all, this new and typically untypical enterprise 'Paradox World' is designed to thrive on all three."
IN THE MORNING
Maya handed in her notice at the envelope factory after three years hard labour. It was that or stay twenty more years and get a little silver spoon at the end of it. She has become very unhappy there, the contrast between that and what we really what to do, what we are trying hard to do, growing stronger all the time. We couldn't stand it any more. In three months she will be free to join me in building a little design studio, probably in Zurich, but probably not in the grocers shop which we must leave at the end of March(*). Hand in hand we are walking to the edge of the existential abyss.
In the afternoon, someone I had banked on to lend me enough money to keep the gallery open into 2012 decided not to do it, remarking that if the risk went wrong it would be bad for our, up until this point, good relations. Thanks friend. Well, we never were close.
In the evening I had to explain to Maya, who wants to celebrate giving up work, that I can't pay January's shop rent after all. A little brain-storming session threw up these ideas:
1. Move out early (by end of December) and save rent of over three grand. The shop hasn't worked so far anyway.
2. Talk openly to landlord Herr Haller - the old fox - and suggest a cheap or even rent free last period. (We're hardly going to move back in after renovation anyway, since I heard it may go up to 4,600 Franks a month. Or more.)
3. Turn the place into a junk shop. Fill it with STUFF, bought or borrowed. Zurich folk too chic to enter an alternative establishment of any kind are seen crowding happily into junk shops here, looking for bargain tea-pots and mended candle-stands.
4. The luxury of staying on to build the design-studio we dream of is... a luxury we can no longer afford. It must be launched from home.
(*As it turned out our lease was extended another year and we stayed on. Early in 2012 we founded Design-Partners Malfatti Woods, renaming and refitting the shop - no longer a gallery - accordingly. We collected other designers to present their wares on commission, and I reinvented myself into the trendy profession of "designer". Art was swept into the back room, with my unfinished guillotine, umpteen disembowled pianos, unwritten books, unpainted pictures and endless unfulfilled variations on the future. And I stopped writing these diaries. Yet Maya and I are happy. To find out what happened in 2012 see www.design-partners.org and/or the Facebook page)
November 25
BEST EXHIBITION
so far at the ex-grocers shop, opens tonight in stiff old Zurich. Since May this year the place has developed from an almost spontaneous idea painted pink into an almost authentic white-walled gallery presenting authentic modern art from five classy Zurich-based artists: Nicole Foraboschi, Martinka Kremeckova, Maria Kühnen, Suzane Richle and Wink Witholt. Thanks for your support guys!
November 7
NOT ENOUGH SPACE
to work on the left wing, so managed to set up to the right of the Thing, hanging wing and shoulder from hooks in the ceiling. Began with the coasters to consider the swinging mechanism. For the exhibition, Maya bought black material to replace the red on the sofa (a sofa does not look well in this installation, but I don't want to do without it as there are no other seats besides the benches, which are stored out of sight). Have set up the new laptop - kindly donated by Flo - in the little hallway. Heating is minimal but tolerable; it's so far a very mild winter. We are both now looking forward to the end of this year's programme (which will have involved about an exhibition per month) and redesigning the shop for three months around the murals and design service venture. We should have done it late this Summer. On the other hand, losses and disappointments taken into account, we agree it was right to try the gallery thing.
November 6
MR SCHALTENBRAND'S
"Out of the Woods" show opened last night. Good work, informal atmosphere, fine light performance with himself and Flo Stoffner on guitar & effects. Too much smoke-machine - it filled the stairwell. I was glad emergency services weren't summoned. But who cares. The house is falling apart anyway. Too few guests. At least, important ones, whoever they are; and too many reaching for a free drink. D.S. was tolerated, one of the lads and liked by almost everyone; but this horrible situation he has put us in calls for some kind of action.
November 4
BACK IN SUMMER
I told Michel Schaltenbrand he could do what he liked for his show; paint the walls black if he wanted. Recommended by Maya and D.S., he took a while to take the offer of an exhibition at our little place seriously. But after prolonged wranglings about clearing enough space in the two rooms, we were happy he decided to go for it. So he's painting the gallery black this week, after I stuffed all the piano works and workshop into the rear area, now blocked from view with a black stage curtain. Back-stage, in the tightest workshop the Thing has seen, there is just enough room to swing a cat or work on the left wing. Eventually attached to the newly constructed rear and sides forming the guillotine workings, the wings will flap; most likely using all four of the swivelling iron feet. Besides that, have almost filled the cellar by now with MORE STUFF, but the kitchen is not overflowing. Much upheaval then, but Michel is well respected in stage and exhibition design in Zurich, landing contracts for big theatre pieces; and we treat our artists well at PZP. (Too well sometimes.) He is fussy and demanding - as I am - partly because he works at this level and usually gets his way. I watch what I say, careful not to suggest too much or hang around too long. He has had the place to himself for ten days and I hope he feels inspired rather than trapped. Another true artist then. Let's see if that's a compliment.
November 3
REMEMBER U.B.
Recieved this from beloved Berlin paperwork cruncher, co-Kulturhaus Verein member, and trusty "Wallywoods vs Local Borough" go-between, U.B. Quietest subversive of all. He has long been invited to visit, and intends to do so. I hope he hurries. If I haven't been locked away by then, he won't mind tackling with me the current Swiss paperwork challenge and hovering financial disaster - all in the same language at least:
"Hallo Paul, wie geht es euch? Lange habe ich wenig von mir hören lassen. In Berlin haben wir einen wunderschönen Herbst mit tagsüber warmen Temparaturen, alles verfärbt sich gelb, der Himmel ist stahlend blau. Eigentlich die ideale Landschaft für eine Reise über Land, aber offensichtlich schaffe ich es derzeit weder nach Süden noch sonst anderswo hin. Jetzt hat mich schon vor ca. zwei Wochen Norbi angerufen, und heute habe ich Post für dich dort in Empfang genommen. Leider komme ich auch nicht oft zu Norbi. Offenbar ist dein Konto bei der Berliner Volksbank derzeit überzogen und aus diesem Grund erfolgen keine Überweisungen mehr. Die BA vermißt die Rate zum Geschäftszeichen L893T... für den 15.10.2011, und die Berliner Volksbank selbst fordert dich in einem Schreiben von 20.10.2011 dringend zum Ausgleich des aufgelaufenen Sollstandes von sage und schreibe 10,20 EUR bis zum 10.11.2011 auf, das ist bald. Das solltest du möglichst umgehend tun, denn sonst lösen sie das Konto auf. Am besten du rufst dort auch einmal an falls die Überweisung bzw. das Auffüllen dauern sollte: Berliner Volksbank, Tel. 030.3063-3300. Deine Rate an die BA war ja offenbar 20.- EUR / Monat. Wenn du dein Konto bei der Berliner Volksbank, das laut Angaben der Bank 10,20 EUR minus aufweist, entsprechend aufüllst, ist die Bank zufrieden, und die Bundesanstalt für Arbeit wird trotz ihrer kategorischen Aufforderung vom 16.10.2011 (siehe Anhang) wohl damit einverstanden sein, daß du weiter die Raten überweist. Das schreibt sie ja auch im letzten Satz: 'Sollte Ihnen eine fristgerechte Zahlung nicht möglich sein ...' Vielleicht setzt du dich diesbezüglich einmal mit der BA in Verbindung. Die Kontaktdaten sind im Schreiben im Anhang (hoffentlich) zu lesen. Die Tel.Nr. der BA noch einmal: 0180/1003090. Sage ihnen ggf., du habest kein Einkommen, würdest aber die Ratenzahlung fortsetzen wollen. Wenn sie damit einverstanden sind, daß die Raten diesen Monats wieder kommen und die des letzten Monats ausfällt, brauchst du nichts weiter zu machen als dein Konto bei der Berliner Volksbank per Überweisung ausreichend(!) aufzufüllen. Denke dabei auch an die kommenden Monate. Wenn wieder Geld auf dem Konto ist, wird der Dauerauftrag weiter ausgeführt, jedoch nicht die einmal ausgefallene Überweisung nachgeholt. Diese müßtest du falls die BA wirklich darauf besteht für die ausgefalleneen Male nachholen, aber ich kann mir vorstellen daß sie mit der Fortsetzung der Zahlung im allgemeinem zufrieden sein werden. Dein Konto bei der Berliner Volksbank mußt du für diese notwendigen Transaktionen natürlich im entprechenden Umfang auffüllen. Du kannst natürlich auch gemäß der Fordernung vom 16.10.2011 gleich den ganzen Betrag in Höhe von 140.- EUR an die BA überweisen, wobei es mich wundert, wie die auf den glatten Betrag von offenbar genau 140.- EUR kommen. wahrscheinlich wirklich ein Zufall. Zum Peter Edel: Was mit dem Haus geschieht ist nicht nur mir noch immer unklar. Das Gebäude ist noc immer verschlossen, getan hat sich bislang nichts. Man hört Gerüchte, daß der Vertrag mit der Schauspielschule bzw. dem Investor mittlerweile unterschrieben wird, aber die sind nicht neu. am 12.Juli ab 10:00 Uhr fand anläßlich des 90. Geburtstags von Peter Edel vor dem Kulturhaus eine Gedenkkundgebung der Antifaschistischen Initiative Nord-Ost (AINO) zusammen mit der VVN-BdA statt. Das war sehr wahrscheinlich das bislang letzte Event am oder im Haus. Das Projekt Wallywoods hat in der Rede zutreffenderweise als Bewahrer des Kulturhauses Erwähnung gefunden. Es gibt Fotos und auch das Redemanuskript. Ich werde es dir bald zukommen lassen. Es tut mir leid nur vorwiegend negative Nachrichten bieten zu können, aber: Das Job- Center ist ansonsten zufrieden, du hast den Abschließenden Bescheid über den vollen Satz bekommen, keine weiteren Rückforderungen. Den Bescheid kann ich dir bei Bedarf zuschicken. Viele Grüße U.B."
(If you do travel here, U.B., be aware that the Swiss are not quite so foreigner-friendly as when I arrived, since the Nazis joined the government two weeks ago. And bring a crate of Berliner Pils with you. One can't get better for one's money.)
November 2
INTRODUCING DANNY AMOS FLYNN
Our London correspondant. All it says at the website about this eccentric millionaire (unconfirmed) and patron of arts is, "Print-master, lecturer, poet & lazy curator of Paradox London Projects (PLP) exhibitions, events & concerts (in exile until PLP finds a home in 2012)". Here is the small print, backdated until today, the day Danny Amos Flynn was forced to co-establish PLP:
10 June 2010 Wally Woods when you comin over? (not this weekend please, I got a new chick in Zürich) 12 June 2010 Danny Amos Flynn You can't keep chickens in Berlin? 17 June 2010 Wally Woods Doin ma best... (Back in Berlin now) Danny Amos Flynn 17 June 2010 Well Wally would or wouldn't you? I will forward the address of the other artists I'm going to be meeting up with when I come over, to see if you know them. You are still in the Wallywood's gallery? Thanks for the offer of exhibiting the Mutanabi letterpress work. It's a good cause. 17 June 2010 Wally Woods All sounds great. When might you skip over? (I'm on the island most of July) Danny Amos Flynn 17 June 2010 Danny Amos Flynn The island being England? Or the Clotted Island Collective of Europe? 17 June 2010 Wally Woods The Clotted Island Collective of Wight 28 June 2010 Wally Woods YOU MUST COME BETWEEN "24 JULY & 6 AUGUST (or before) - big finalle to the Berlin chapter. Then I'm off to eat my swiss angel... 28 July 2010 Danny Amos Flynn Would you have a place for me to stay or would I have to pretend an interest in arty things and spilling source and breaking chair legs to stay awake all night? 28 July 2010 Wally Woods Dont be paranoid with good reason. Just come over. Place is fine, peaceful, no parties (almost) goin on till I leave for Zurich August 16 or so. Get on yer bike! See ya, Paul. 28 July 2010 Danny Amos Flynn But my bike tire is flat and bent. If that's ok, then why didn't you tell me that before you artiot! 29 July 2010 Wally Woods ...yeah yeah. You comin or not? 16 August 2010 Danny Amos Flynn Paul! Sorry, I have been inundated with emails and stuff. Even though I'm still not doing any paid work! Couldn't make it over. Are you ever returning to Berlin? Has Wallywoods been cleared for a new highway to drive fools even madder? I will be in Berlin in October. Dan. 17 August 2010 Wally Woods Hi Dan Though livin in Zurich I still have, and will have, a lot to do with Berlin, but wont be there much this year. I am keeping the keys to the community center (ex-Wallywoods) until at least end October, and you can always stay there cos the boys are lookin after the place for me. Then on 19 November, the local government against Woods meet in court, so I`ll be in Berlin for that. Will let you know any other dates I will be there, but will be just occasional long weekends. From 25 Sept to 4 Oct I'm in London and on the Island with my fiancé to meet the fam. So maybe see you here or there (or come to Zurich). Best wishin, Paul. Danny Amos Flynn 17 August 2010 Zurich's an idea. I'll find out exactly when my friend's band is going to Berlin in October. Perhaps my friends could play at Wallywouldn'ts. Here is their last reviewed gig, we were all drunk: The pièce de resistance of the evening came when Slapper took the stage. I'd seen their various motley made-up faces wandering about the bar, but it was only when they converged upon the stage together that one realised they were all in the same group. Slapper is a transportational feast of dada-esque whimsy and surrealist grunge-glam punk...I'm sort of confused to be honest. The bassist was wearing braces of black and yellow barrier tape and the guitarist was dressed as a nightmare monk, a sexy scantily clad Freddie Mercury look alike was on keyboards. The lead singer was a cross between Marcel Marceau, the MC from Cabaret and Fred Schneider from the B-52s and was occasionally interrupted, or maybe frightened away, by two larger Goth-inspired bodyguard figures that would howl syllables…or play the triangle. Frequent use was made of props like a stuffed dog or a cabbage and the 'lyrics' seemed to be in some mix of French and nonsense. I think their last song was a cover of Ice Ice Baby by Vanilla Ice, maybe. It's not easy to make something as random as this work, but Slapper - largely owing to the goofy talent of the lead singer and the general gusto of the whole assemblage - pulled it off with abundant charm and to hallucinogenic effect. As our MC said at the end of their set, 'a little bit glam, a little bit punk and so fucking avant-garde,' they were an inspired choice to represent the playful ethos of the Wotever World. Are you trying to hang onto the centre? Why are you going to court? We may have to see how we can 'do art' and make money in the future. Dan. 17 August 2010 Wally Woods Do you have a music or better, a vid link of the band? They can hang out at ex-Wallywoods, currently called Paradox Berlin. I am now looking to open, in a mini way to begin, Paradox Zurich. Then I will invite artists and nutters galore. Meanwhile, yes, we are being evicted from the culture center (Kulturhaus Weissensee), since almost a year now. Its a long story... As for making money from art, that is impossible in Berlin. Thats why I've come to Zurich - intend to correct the balance (hard to correct 18 years starving in Berlin). Hope to see ya here or there, PP Danny Amos Flynn 17 August 2010 The band is in Berlin from 30th September to 6th October. Although I could come a bit before that and stay a bit after that as well. Let em know if there's a way I could help with whatever is going on, and I will make it this time no matter what. I was invited to a free stay at an apartment in NY with a shoe designer too and never made it! I'm wasting my time in London. Dan. Danny Amos Flynn 17 August 2010 Danny Amos Flynn sorry, The band is in Berlin from 6th October and leaving 30th October. If I go at the same time then it would be great to get a free place to stay. Dan. 17 August 2010 Wally Woods Good. Until 31 October any of you can stay at Wallywoods (its a 14 minute tram ride from Alexander Platz in the former east city center. I will be there sometime during, but can't yet be sure. You should also check out the mad english bookshop where Alex Tornado and the Uglies hang out, "Another Bookshop" - referred to in my online diaries as Another Bookshop. Let me know and I will arrange it. Keep in touch - and don't let e-mails continue to interfere with more important global plans. Meantime, I want to make a conection and arrange some events at Caberet Volatare in Zurich, where Maya and I are living happily ever after - the guillotine perhaps, supported by The Ugly Americans etc. Keepin in touch, Paul. 17 August 2010 Danny Amos Flynn I'll arrange to go to Berlin at the beginning of October, probably the 1st if I can stop at Wallyplastics. I'll let the others know that it's possible they could stop over there too. I don't know what their plans are yet. Dan. The only other gig date we can do is Saturday 2nd October. With Spinster (an all girl lesbian band) too if that would be poss?. SLaPPers Alex and Jake have to leave on Sunday. A few of us are hanging around til the 6th. But we would need drums/PA/Amps (ie backline) all to be supplied which may be too tall an order. http://www.myspace.com/slappertime pics from last week's gig: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=189428&id=684638262 SLAPPER on MySpace Music - Free Streaming MP3s, Pictures & Music Downloads www.myspace.com MySpace Music profile for SLAPPER. Download SLAPPER Alternative / / music singles, watch music videos, listen to free streaming mp3s, & read SLAPPER's blog. Share 23 September 2010 Danny Amos Flynn Hi Paul, I've told Sue that you were busy earlier in the week - but I think she's worried about organising the Wallywoods gig so close to Saturday 2nd October. I don't have a phone number for you either so I can't call you. She needs to let the other band know too who are really keen to do it. I hope it's still on but we need to let them know for sure. They're wild, but an organised kind of wild. Dan. 25 September 2010 Wally Woods Hi Dan Would you like to suggest a meet tomorrow - we are at my brother's in Thatcham (West of London). Early evening? Where - maybe central so I can show Maya sometin of real London town - any recommendations (cheap etc)...? Can also phone tomorrow.. Danny Amos Flynn 26 September 2010 It's difficult to know which bar to go to because all the English ones are pretty dull, they're not like the European bars. Somewhere by the river? On the Southbank? Or central London? Soho? i can get to anywhere. 26 September 2010 Wally Woods Well, I think Maya and I must change the plan and meet anywhere you like in the city tomorrow. Thats because we got up late... we're in Thatcham and it costs 20 quid each return ticket, so we will get two day travel cards Monday and make better use of the whole day. Sorry I wont see Sue in that case, next time it must be. Sorry bout this, does it sound ok? Paul Danny Amos Flynn 26 September 2010 Danny Amos Flynn Ok, we'll meet up tomorrow then. I'll let Sue know and think of somewhere to meet. 26 September 2010 Wally Woods Thanks Danny - sorry again, but tomorrow we'll be more free; getting back here on a Sunday is also crap. Goin out now to see some local ducks (brother Mike has 5 kids). 03 October 2010 Wally Woods Hi ho Danny, How was it? No disasters I hope. How is Berlin? Enjoy your time..! Paul (still on the island) 03 October 2010 Danny Amos Flynn Hey! It was all filmed! It was great! And I´m afraid it´s Bobywoods now! Sorry about that! Have to run. x 06 October 2010 Danny Amos Flynn Re: Putting my slippers on. Hey, we're all back in London now. Wallywoods was better than White Trash! I had a few more sleepless nights. Speak to you later and catch up after I've had some sleep. Dan. 07 October 2010 Wally Woods Glad y'all enjoyed it. I'm still waiting to see a single photo - documentation of the dying Weissensee Wallywoods is now a priority (was it only our guys who took pics? Slow slow slow they are). W.Trash comment apprecated. Would you consider doing for me, or for whatever, a crit on the show(s) / the visit, for the records? Only if you had time. We had a lovely one in the jolly old Homeland. Will go again next spring. Was good to see you and look forward to the next time matey. Best of alls, and greets from Maya, Paul. 07 October 2010 Danny Amos Flynn The Wallywood boys were great! They put a lot of effort into making up the bar and everything. They filmed the whole thing too. I will see the Slapper band members at the weekend and we will get together a disc of photo's and find out about the film footage. Actually I was asked to announce the other band and after I said that someone had called the cops and that they would be there any minute wearing kimonos - the place cleared. 07 October 2010 Wally Woods Really? Only jokin. 07 October 2010 Danny Amos Flynn Yes really, I was a true Wally! Well Well the place didn't clear altogether and I did announce right away that it wasn't true and that the cops weren't coming and that that's what the next band was called but I was told that a group of good looking young Chinese looked really disappointed and worried and quickly left so I wish they hadn't! 07 October 2010 Wally Woods Rock'n'roll history mate. I or friend Ken ("the Spy") used to write little stories for the online diaries for every event, but got right out of the habit, sadly. Lazy me. Will you do one? If you can describe Wallywoods, to get it objectively, would be great too. I wanted to start updating the diaries anyway. Must write some texts myself, and get BACK IN THE HABIT. Danny Amos Flynn 07 October 2010 Yes, of course I will. I'm flattered that you asked me. Sue's going to gather all the pictures and film together for you too. 07 October 2010 Wally Woods Greatski. Thanks Danny. P.P. (http://www.paradoxberlin.com/diaries%202006.htm) WALLYS LOG 2006 www.paradoxberlin.com Diary extracts Share Danny Amos Flynn 10 November 2010 Hope... You can never see the same tomorrow once. I thought you knew that. 15 November 2010 Wally Woods I still got the keys... Danny Amos Flynn 16 November 2010 Well if you still have the keys you can turn it around. 16 November 2010 Wally Woods a real long shot... Danny Amos Flynn 16 November 2010 Danny Amos Flynn I know, I meant it just as a pun. I hope you can give them the keys and not lose any money though! I think it sounds like they're scared of you stopping so they threaten to slap rent on you. They're just a load of 'butlers' who have their eyes to the keyhole and see nothing! 17 November 2010 Wally Woods Well said. Now I keep the keys till Fridays court case. Real last minute stuff. 04 December 2010 Danny Amos Flynn Good to see you're all going to the Lemmy film and party. I noticed that my email to you with the details didn't send. I'm jealous! I want to go! 26 January Danny Amos Flynn Re: News off the microcosm. Hi Paul, I've just been given the basement of a studio in Old Street to set up screen-printing and letterpress rent free. I'll mail you some pictures later. Dan. 03 March Wally Woods Hi Danny! Maya and I are in London only from Sunday after till Monday afternoon (we are on the island now). We need a place to stay Sun nite (brothers and big sister all live way outside the city). Would be good to meet up - any ideas? Let us know... (and send me your number again..) Paul. 03 March Wally Woods Ok, Dan, we got a place to stay Sunday nite near Waterloo - let me know if we can meet - would love to find time to see your workshop... etc etc.. hopin to see you, Paul. (we fly away Monday late afternoon) 05 March Danny Amos Flynn Paul, I'll try and find out. Get back to you later tomorrow. 05 March Wally Woods If we dont have time to come to the studio we can at least meet for a drink... 05 March Danny Amos Flynn Have been printing and moving stuff around from one place to the other. I'll call you about somewhere to stop over for Sunday. I'm stopping temporarily in Oval. 05 March Wally Woods We are ok for a place to stay Sunday nite, just need to arrange where to meet Sunday afternoon, nite or Monday early afternoon. (Will be staying at Waterloo, not far from Oval) Danny Amos Flynn 05 March Danny Amos Flynn Ah, sorry to leave it so late getting back to you. I have to run out now and help somebody else move house. Bassist Sue from Slapper is coming back from Eastbourne at 9.00pm. She lives in Kings Cross. I'm in Oval, as a guest as you now know and the person I'm helping move had a spare room up in Hackney. You are sure you are sorted with somewhere? You have my number: 07584063207 I'll ring you later tonight. x 05 March Wally Woods Yes Dan, sure we're sorted, but thanks a lot. Yep, lets just speak later tonite (after 8pm).... pp!! Danny Amos Flynn 06 March Hi, Just got in. Don't know why I don't have your number. I can meet any time tomorrow. In Waterloo or elsewhere. There's a nice mojito bar behind Waterloo station but we could find a beer pub somewhere. speak to you in the morning. 06 March Wally Woods Grand - we get into Waterloo Station at 6.15pm today (Sunday). My new mobile is: 078 783 0114 (we have your number) - We can go straight to the Mojobo bar if you like and meet there? If so tell me exactly where it is, or we could meet later... Our number on the island till we leave at 3pm is (0)1983 407274 By the way, my number is actually (from UK) is 0041 78 783 0114 Danny Amos Flynn 06 March Danny Amos Flynn It's called Cubana bar and restaurant. From Waterloo main station you make your way round to the right (away from the Imax on the roundabout) towards the exit on Waterloo Road which heads towards the Old Vic Theatre and turn right before that down Lower Marsh Road. (Not Bayls Road). You should be able to see it lit up like a mojito bar in front of a car park. I could meet you both there. i'll wait for you there wearing a clean red bandana. http://www.cubana.co.uk/about/index.phtml#opening/ About | Cubana Bar-Restaurant www.cubana.co.uk Monday and Tuesday Midday to Midnight Wednesday and Thursday Midday to 1am Friday Midday to 3am Saturday 3pm to 3am Sundays and Bank Holiday Mondays ? Closed Late Night Live Salsa Music Wednesdays and Thursdays 11.00pm-1.00am Fridays and Saturdays 11.00pm to 3.00am Happy Hour Share 06 March Wally Woods OK Thats the plan: we land at Waterloo at 18.15 and invade Cuba. Will be good to see you there..! I had a beer there years ago with our mysterious Uncle Peter (RIP) on a short visit from a mad life in USA 06 March Danny Amos Flynn Excellent! x 22 July Danny Amos Flynn Wil be able to get over. Sorry been too hectic to respond. Tell you about everything when I see you. Fill me in on what's happening again and I'll come on over. 22 July Wally Woods Great to hear. At the website www.paradoxberlin.com (old name but indeed Zurich) click on EVENTS on top menue - there you'll see whats planned at the moment. Indeed possible is a week's show of your own or together with artists you recommend, or a one-off (dont forget its quite a small place). But thats not obligatory. Or just come for the crack and/or discuss further plans. Either way, tell us roughly what dates you are considering and for aprox how long... 23 July Danny Amos Flynn hey 23 July Wally Woods gotta run today man..! Consider yerself booked. Just get a ticket... 23 July Danny Amos Flynn ha ok spek to youlater 23 July Wally Woods ok 20 September Danny Amos Flynn Hey, had an email note but it doesn't connect to facebook. You can stop in the shop Stoke Newington if I haven't moved again.When are you over? 21 September Wally Woods That would be great - we fly to London on 16 October and stay just a day or two then head south to the Island. Would be good to see ya. Is there bathroom, sofa-bed at the shop? Where is it? 21 September Danny Amos Flynn Yes, the shop has a shower and kitchen and garden and I can lend an inflatable mattress. although I am seeing about taking on a contract for a year at the shop on the 8th October. It's up in Stoke Newington, above Dalston. 10 minutes on the bus to Shoreditch. If I move I will let you know and you should be able to stay wherever I move to. I'm getting tired of London. 22 September Wally Woods Ok Danny, thanks a lot. Keep us informed. Look forward to meetin up - wherever... PP 14 October Wally Woods Hi Danny. We're booked into a hotel Sunday night (travel to the Island Monday) called "H10" (284 to 302 Waterloo Road) Should get there around 8, freshen up, and pop out locally, maybe South Bank. If you can make it would be lovely. My mobile: 0041 (0)78 783 0114 (not sure how that works with the codes). Do I have yours? Bests, Paul. 14 October Wally Woods (We'll be staying not at that hotel but another. Will let ya know..) 15 minutes ago Wally Woods Did you see your new info at the website? www.paradoxberlin.com 15 minutes ago Danny Amos Flynn hey, just looking now 14 minutes ago Wally Woods under coordination 14 minutes ago Danny Amos Flynn I should send you the poster artwork I did in case you want to use it. Do you use illustrator? 13 minutes ago Wally Woods Maya does I use ps 12 minutes ago Danny Amos Flynn Well see if you can open the one I send. I think it might be linked to all the letterpress letter scans do you want anything bringing over from england? You've just left I know no dope! 10 minutes ago Wally Woods pleez only use the word j form now on matey more later, gotta go ciaooooo Danny Amos Flynn 9 minutes ago Got to get going from here. Will mail you later. Oh! I see! Oh no! Jesus 9 minutes ago Wally Woods I see him too. Danny Amos Flynn 9 minutes ago I meant the plaster cast Pope 8 minutes ago Wally Woods Same thing. Danny Amos Flynn 8 minutes ago See you later then. 8 minutes ago Wally Woods ok...
November 1
MY MAYA
This is all it says about my closest guarded secret, Mrs Maya Malfatti Woods, at the website index page:
"Graphic designer, busy curator, lazy artist."
October 31
RETURNED YESTERDAY
from two weeks in the UK. Dad growing stronger. We can go back to worrying about Mum. On a day out in their automatic Polo, Maya and I visited for the first time Stonehenge, which is exactly half the size I expected, though I hardly expected the thousand visitors blocking the windy views, traipsing endlessly around those old rocks, wherever they come from, the rocks and the people, like an infidel's Mecca. The sense of anything historic or spiritual must be caught another time, when we return on an off-peak rainy weekday while the kids are locked in school and something enormous is happening on X-Factor - sadly a principal preoccupation in the new millennium's Great Britain. In London Maya met James for the first time and wife-to-be Jackie. Marvelous to know him now as a grown-up, and still growing. He is getting bigger and the more drunk he gets, the closer he resembles Mike, beyond the mere limitless appetite for booze. Elsewhere, we stayed at Liam's counsil flat, which they are about to buy (his family were at Bognor Regis while new carpets are fitted); and at a couple of B&Bs in Pimlico. Both those haunts (all, it seems from the street) run by foreign extended families and mafiosos who surely can't believe their luck, allowed to run these once gorgeous Georgian buildings into the dirt as they wish, into dens and bordellos and who knows what. An eastern European girl on the desk didn't want passports or an address, as if they might be harmful. In the first, the heating was off and we froze. At the girl's place, owned by pimpish guys with fat cars we saw in the morning, the bed, neatly made at a glance, collapsed when we sat on it to check out the broken TV. Maya was terrified of taking fleas away with us. I was mildly worried about never waking up. But we found a decent Indian around there, something London excels at, and I rediscovered the dubious allure of local pubs - the nearest to which might be found on the Continent being over-priced Irish Pubs which miss the point entirely. The Charlie Chaplin at Elephant & Castle was so run down (I remembered it otherwise) that it inspired. Like the shopping center itself, which has never changed since I spent my pocket money there. Here must be enormous opportunity for mural and design work! I thought, quickly considering the long-planned return to Home City. Liam agreed, and aided by Dan's connections to begin with (the Slapper concert in Brixton was a druggy highlight), setting up a multi-functioning Paradox London Projects can't be the impossibility I previously feared. Anyway until that, or whatever else happens, we are in Zurich to the end of March 2012 launching the decorating thing left over from Berlin, with PZP as headquarters and, if things go well, large scope for making... er, what was that stuff called again..?
Speaking of which, there are three letters on the kitchen table I am physically afraid to open. If one is a letter-bomb, I may be relieved. I have done nothing on the burocratic side of my so-called self-employment in Zurich, (missing Ulrich terribly), and that in the most expensive business community in the world, corrupt or otherwise. Paperwork has always been something to put off; the main reasoning behind which has been in recent years, that the Thing (or whatever I was working on) will shortly make the headlines and all related problems become instant history.
Jobs now are: SORT THAT CRAP OUT; help Maya make the murals catalog; clear more space in the gallery for Michel's forthcoming exhibition which opens Saturday; put off a certain somebody from attending; further continue to harass poor Denis for what the bugger owes us; attach Wolfgang's display-case to the outside of the gallery and fill it with pictures and information about interior design; keep my extraordinarily lovely wife happy in the face of bankruptcy whilst convincing her that we relocate to the UK regardless of our financial status on, let's say, the day after PZP closes (April Fools Day), thus completing the triangle and enforcing the ever-nearing possibility of generating well paid work and useful exhibitions in those three cities. Kind of a Bemusing Triangle...
Tonight is Halloween. It has grown monstrous in the UK, like gang crime, crime shows, owning weapons as a hobby, X-Factor copies, McDonalds culture (now curiously green) and everything else the States so generously infects us with. All this stuff, the worst of what that place represents, is sweeping across Europe and the planet like an intoxifying tsunami. No city is safe from Glee and the effect it has upon the children of careless parents everywhere. If the world's woes spring, as is widely agreed and ignored, from ignorance and poverty, a small glimmer of hope lies in the Yanks addressing with determination their own ignorance and poverty. Which will never happen. The self-crowned leaders of the Human species require, as the seven-billionth baby is born to grow up in a self-made MTV mobile-phone clip, a dignifying kick in the arse: "Make it work guys, then export it!"
October 12
NOT REALLY A CITY OF CULTURE
more a city of cultured and uncultured professionals with very clean shoes. Drone bees busy in the most luxurious hive, sadly queenless, lacking passion outside the football stadium and curiosity outside their own doors. Like any other secluded village probably. Quietly uncomfortable out of working hours the larger population do not require brain food; not the slightest intellectual strain above the latest Woody Allen film. They spend energy and earnings on affordable drugs and harmless entertainments between endless bouts of comparing trivialities at coffee bars and physical-improvement boutiques. "There are so many galleries in Zurich!" one hears so often from the so easily satisfied. But those tired society-meets in which Opening Night is all, palatial or quaint, public or private, are clones of one another, their ring-leaders, hallowed mini-celebrities, terrified of breaking the norm, of staining the white walls. The latte-warm status quo. Indeed, as folk of blatant quality and taste in anything of value, they may well be caught seeking out exceptional art - the curators I mean, not their faithful followers, who are happiest with an exceptional cappuccino. But then, not for the art’s sake, and only for the artist's if that artist be a knowable asset, a worthy talker of correct talk, an admirable mirror to its admirable mentors and groupies. No wonder the sporadic squat scene here is well visited, though that too be undermined by short-sightedness, self-interest and snobbery, plus a fatalism depressing to see among young alternatives. It is ALL about image. And that horrible non-attribute coolness. And fascinating little heaps of coffee and cocaine-smudged money brightly lit in the middle of every eventless, polished floor. Amid mortal fear of staining shoes and reputation: to be seen in the wrong place communing with the wrongly equipped people.
I am building a guillotine opposite the playground and nobody has noticed. They are afraid to look or simply do not care. I should have known. They still refuse to accept that chocolate is harvested by child slaves in Africa. They are afraid to look or simply do not care. This is not a healthy city for the terminal outsider and cynic I am. Not professionally; though I thought it would be exactly that. Just look at the creative types we have met, bent under unseen, unspoken-about weight - some kind of shame - almost every one. Utopia cannot exist.
Not yet a healthy city, I may add, if I bother reviving damaged optimism.
October 6
GETTING NOWHERE
aber schnell! Working afternoons on the guillotine, that's something. All thanks to Maya, who still carries the complete burden. On good days get a lot done, feel inspired, top of the world. But more often, attach no more than two or three little chunks of wood to the Thing, picked from the thousands of remaining bits spread out on a board or the floor. They get packed away in a box again (and again) to accommodate whatever guest exhibition is on. Those are usually enjoyable to set up, and disappointing in result. But what the hell, that's what we're here for. You dig your own grave. The Thing is completed in my mind, just needs finishing. Been saying that for almost two years. It could take another year at this rate, but what the hell, that's what we're here for. Wish to have it ready enough by end of March, by which time we leave the shop, which we've grown to love, in a casual way, probably not to return. I can't generate the money to pay a month's rent, let alone consider staying on at three or more times that after the renovation. The satisfying "success" of Denis' paintings show has yielded no cash to date. Four paintings sold, to people who can afford them. Wow. So what went wrong? Typical artist: huge confidence in his own abilities, scornful of others', enormous ego actually made of eggshell, avoidance of everyday hurdles like getting to places or paying for things, and promises broken. Promises to others, promises to one's self, makes no difference. Again and again and again. Suffocates one's own success with one's chosen lifestyle. Echos of Shaw's words, "The true artist will let his wife starve, his children go barefoot, his mother drudge for his living at seventy, sooner than work at anything but his art".
I should know.
I feel handicapped on various levels. (Haven't I always been?) Getting nowhere, fast. Despite the fine woman behind this venture. Despite this love come late in my life, my talents, hopes, plots and pleadings. Despite the Thing, the Masterpiece, sitting in black silhouette on the blinding horizon, complete and proven, marking a Promised Land.
We visit the folks in a week or two. All looking forward to it. Dad is still alive. The family is always there. I'm recovering (yes, I shall to recover too) from this existential knock on the head. The dull reality of Zurich. Its richly average cultural landscape. Its art snobs and cowards everywhere. Plan now is, fill the shop window with photos of ancient wall paintings made in Berlin to rally work decorating apartments, bars, whatever. Oh, that again! It should work though; the documentation is good. Lordy its good. We spent days scanning photographs; Maya is making a catalogue. But the stuff is OLD. Lordy it's old. However, if experimenting with ground-breaking art in a careless city is pretty much pointless, then decorating some rich fool's toilet will at least bring home a bit of bread; the only ingredient still missing, as I've long preached to my invisible congregation. A simple plan then. Will Probably involve getting out of bed...
It's getting cold in the shop now. We should contact the old geezer soon and beg him to turn the heaters on. At no extra cost, as far as I remember the contract; let's see. Not that I mind much. Shudder at the very thought of that last Winter at the Kulturhaus; but we survived, used the time well in fact. Ghostly memories. Heating then is principally for Maya, occasional guests, and Bere the kindly musician and PZP supporter, who brings a small Latin crowd now on our regular Saturday evenings. This Saturday evening we break the habit of a lifetime and start charging on the door.
What else has happened? Some nice poetry and performance with nice Habib and friends. The odd compliment. Almost no writing or work accomplished at home, but a lot of DVDs watched. Breakdowns in Mrs Woods' endless patience with poor Hubby. Getting behind with bills and paperwork - an understatement. And levels of resignation rising to absorb a floundering spirit.
Just finish the Thing!
September 19
"FREE CUBA
from ancient embargos. Encourage the people to think freely and appreciate neighbourly conduct whilst moraly undermining their rediculous cave-man government."
So tempting to post useless stuff like that on FB. Someone I never heard of 'liked' it and Windy made a comment, something about cigars. I deleted it just now, having noticed a rediculous spelling mistake impossible to correct.
September 16
AFTER A WHILE DIGESTING IT
I told Maya that the opening of my latest exhibition was one of the most disappointing moments of my life. As pretty the evening looked and was, fun and creative among new friends and a couple of kids, as used as I am to so few people turning up to one of my occasions (now one of our occasions) no matter how much greater the expectations during build up, as many postcards as we sent out to important and influential people and organisations; no-one of importance or influence appeared or even contacted us. Not even Maria. But as usual, what is there to do but get on with it? I have the opportunity at least to get on with the guillotine for a while, which I picked up at bank-breaking cost the week before, along with two Broken Pianos and a new broken piano I bought from Wolfgang, trusty friend and most accommodating long-distance driver. A rare opportunity, this bit of wood-work, so busy I have been promoting the art of other artists in two cities, deserving and undeserving, grateful or pissy and arrogant after the fact. Compared to the completion of the guillotine, the culmination of half a life’s work in one beautiful monstrosity, all else is secondary; even the question of my income, or absolute lack of it, which is all-overshadowing. Always. This is Zurich after all, where a kebab costs four or five times the price it does in Berlin. Needless to say I don't eat kebab now, and oddly enough, hardly miss it. As I hardly miss that fantastic location that was Weissensee’s Kulturhaus – which I will still be paying for into next year, naughty anarchist I may have been.
But we are here now, in the little studio-gallery we built for a penny in a rich town, painted pink, filled with P.P.'s clutter and dreams. Making the best of it. Hardly a soul enters during this, my grand three-week Piano Thrones show. Some of the finest conceptual work anyone might witness and perhaps appreciate, anywhere, today.
Leaving me time to make headway on, and surely one day unveil, my favourite obsession: The Fully Functioning Flying Guillotine Piano Throne.
July 17
DAD MORTALLY ILL
Flew to the Island on the ticket he booked a while ago to get me over for James and Jackie's engagement party (I haven't met her yet) being held in a tent next Saturday, which I won't now attend. Plan was, to see the whole family together, by which I mean the six of us mainly, for the first time in many years. Since then Dad has fallen horribly sick. Something we don't understand went wrong with his neck, which swelled up in a couple of days like a bullfrog's. He spent a week in a coma caused by the barrage of drugs, and now lays hallucinating with his throat hanging out in Portsmouth's big hospital, which isn't even in Portsmouth, adding travelling time and costs to the shared stress. None of which, as deeply worried as we all are, can come close to his own. He detests hospitals, with very good reasons spanning a lifetime, as much as he distrusts so many heartless fools disguised poorly as angels who love to control them. I hope to return later in the the week to Maya and the brighter new situation(*). Bringing forward the Zurich to London flight cut our long-planned holiday in Italy in half. Her family villa, on mother Ruth's side, is in a village in Ponte, on the side of the Massive Lake or whatever it's aptly called, and no-one but us were there to enjoy it. We felt like millionaires. Luxury indeed, especially in the dark light of that family's notorious religious pompousness (Ruth herself far aside) which I have no intention of suffering first hand. A particularly bad time to part then, and the sight of Dad wasted away in a machine-crammed critical care unit, gurgling through his open throat, was harrowing. But he was awake and alive. And, always looking on the bright side, I did escape those terrible terrible mosquitos.
(*Bright at that time. Shortly after, personal catastrophe hit. The two of us, at least, survived our saddest month. Dad survived too, and praised us all for contributing. I shall long remember that group hug outside the pub - James' idea, naturally - before we split up again, to return to our variously troubled and hopeful paths and spouses, Mike, Paul and James; middle-aged brothers at large. Combined, a force to be reckoned with, not just in a pub.)
June 16
FOURTH AFTERNOON
in the new routine. Spent most of it getting the shop window ready to paint. Then ran out of paint. I've long dreamed of a Schaufenster at a place like this. People walking by, looking in, that kind of thing. Not coming in yet though, for that need to clean up the outside. Paint the door and frames red, put out a table with a bit of eye candy; who cares what. Toe-nail ice-cream. But real Laufpublikum, right at the doorstep! Oh luxury. They all need something to look at. Since Saturday they can look at two paintings by John-Karl, donated by Ruth who paid two grand for them. Canny guy, John-Karl. But then he left Maya and left Zurich and left all these drawings in her cellar. A smudgy treasure trove. Broken hearted. Well, possibly. But Maya needed to breath after seven years stable unhappiness. Then a year or so with Troy or whatever his name was, the flying saucer conspiracist. Nice guy too, apparently. Complete nut. She broke down, finally gave up attempting to cure him, recovered, began to enjoy freedom for about the first time, then let me take it from her forever. I cancelled Berlin without a second thought, glad to be giving up the Kulturhaus struggle anyway. Couldn't win without long dreamed of support from professionals, for instance, with nothing better to do than help me, the disputed nobody, save one of their own culture centres. Took a little while for Wifey to grasp why I moved out of there and in with her so easily. I had been waiting for years for just that opportunity. And now... our very own Schaufenster! With Laufpublikum! What more do I need?
MONEY
Oh yes. Like, sell something man! A John-Karl wonky Berlin tower-block facade. 600 bucks a big one. 280 a small one. Or Ruth's badly mounted paintings, 2,500 the pair. If not, my soul again. Or a postcard... Back to square one. Where I’ve always been, in fact. Where I do best.
BUT NOT WHERE I BELONG
One visitor so far today. A girl on a bike looking for a workspace in which to make arty films. (Sorry, this cosy gem is taken.) Spanish or Italian, anyway smiley, hopeful, typical. Her boyfriend plays Latino music. Yes, sure, I said, they should come by, work something out. Every other Saturday we have a little gathering. Meet the neighbours. Just don't get too drunk, too loud, too whacked. Sick of that already. Ought to quash it after last Saturday's half-invited group invaded (ok, we thought, all guests welcome here at the start) only to drown out the little concert with excited yap and use our toilet constantly. Far better that nice girl bring her nice friends. I don't have any yet.
People, Maya included, keep telling me we need artists to make this project work.
CHRIST ALL FRIGGING MIGHTY
Finding artists is the least of our problems. They crawl out the frigging woodwork. I knew they would, soon as we opened the frigging door. What I need, have always needed, nothing more and nothing less, is wealthy cunts to buy cheap yet exellent fucking art. And where are they? Come on, where are they!
BUGGERS
And we need to get on the Net. Apart from that we got everything; even a kettle since last night, compliments our neighbour who now gives us things for reasons unknown. I guess it's the way I look, clearly penniless. Is only a little tricky getting online with zero Swiss bucks, the oldest Apple in town, the technical know-how of a bull elephant, a wonderful Mrs Wallywoods whose pockets turn out not to be deep as our love, and no Andy, Maik, nor even a Sir Thomas to call upon in emergencies.
"Do you miss Berlin?" wonders Mrs Wallywoods, all big-eyed and motherly. My second family all in one, she is. "Hardly at all!" I assure, quite honestly.
Right now I miss the Internet more than a joint. These ramblings go on a stick until 7pm, closing time. So some things work after all.
June 14
BRAVE NEW SITUATION
Yesterday I put the opening hours of the new place which Maya printed at home in the door of the new place which Maya basically pays for. We should be sharing the rent, till I can pay it all, and everything else. She will give up the work she hates and we’ll live comfy ever after. Sitting here now six days a week since yesterday, after five weeks cheaply renovating the shit hole it was, between 2pm and 7pm at Ida Square in the rainy Summer in Zurich, I forgive myself for wondering if anyone will wander in sometime very soon please and buy a John-Karl drawing we dug out the cellar or a bit of old anything else, proving I was right all along. ”Just let me open the door and it, whatever it is, will be a hit.” My famous words since we casually began searching for our (my) dream gallery-type-place last summer. It must work though. I have no other plan. No other job, no sponsor, no dosh and no willpower either side of the road I set myself on back in Berlin, which I hardly miss by the way.
This was no mistake. But people are quite as shy and frightened by art – especially my way of doing it - here as anywhere else. I realise now with sadness and no little trepidation.
And Maya wants twins. Today she said again, of course half tongue-in-cheek, “do finish a Throne and sell it!” Sure thing Babe. That’s the real plan, we both agree. But as I noted the other day, during this general down of easing off the kiff, this general face-reality-at-last down, I’m THIS close to succeeding for so long; but I’ve been THIS fucking close for so long I may well be THIS FUCKING CLOSE till the day I drop into the ground and give up.
A bunch of fillings have fallen out over the last week.
April 28
UNTIL LATE INTO THE NIGHT
I skimmed the web to learn anything at all about Quantum Thinking. This after a failed discussion in Vienna last week on Quantum Physics with Maya’s dad; experimental composer (he would disagree with the term) and all round clever bloke. He disagreed with everything I said. And why not; I know little while he knows everyone involved. "Quantum Thinking" was my own term - I wrongly thought before looking it up - my unpedantic answer to all the remaining questions of the universe, tied up in a bow, ready to include among the lengthening list of ideas on the bright new website. But the Net is full of "Quantum Thinking", so now I understand my own invention better than I realised. It's easy. Imagine something happens. Then put the necessary components together in such a way that something indeed happens. And behold, exactly the thing you wanted to happen, happens. The sky is not the limit. Only the great human imagination sets the boundaries, and a bit of old-fashioned inventiveness is all that's required to conjure or transform... well, anything. These and other questionable solutions ravaged my brain as I flopped into bed in the early hours. So many ideas I hardly slept. But I must have, because the dreams were vivid, and all made perfect sense.
Woke up in daylight to read the following notes, in the form of a list, from the bedside crate we use as a table:
Need 1001 / Some day complete all of them / Mary Ocher's Moustaches (actually Hitler's) / Richard Branson / Philosophical Philosophy / Fortunate Misfortune / Brain Calming (opposed to Brain-storming) / Carpet Decoration (with two photos) / Money for the Poor (Artist!) / Carry On Filming (film title) / Humour (have you heard the one...) / Sculpture City (this one with a rare sketch) / Bronze Everything (in sight) / Brainstorm (traditional / invent your own) / Problem Solving Service (Send us your problem and WE WILL SOLVE IT) / Satisfaction Guaranteed / Consultancy (see above) / Original Thought (there is no such thing as unoriginal thought) / Inspire Yourself (see above) / War (outlaw war) / Sales & Service / Lateral Thinking / D.A.F. / Borders / Autism / Quantum Physics influence on dreams (real, sense, order, plot surprises)
which continues with notes on a dream, still as a list:
Children at a kind of Tate Modern. Place I've known in dreams before. Adult helpers. Kids feel free, yet are careful to consider what they've been taught. Conditions. After each class, adult helpers plaster the walls over. I wish to get involved, knowing I can do that job as well as any helper. I mean, what are they doing painting over wonderful work the kids have just completed? (I've done that often enough myself; but not even to take a photograph beforehand?) Some are "difficult" kids, some are crippled. Up on a platform built for them to work on higher walls. I'm at the school (it is a school of sorts, too). Large sums spent on materials and preparation (more than I suspected, I discover later). What is the German word for "smudged"? "Why don't you stop them while (their work) looks terrific?" And it does. A 3D spider's web, brilliant neon-like colours, surprisingly sophisticated symmetry. Couldn't do better myself. But the kids, being kids, take up blobs of paint or whatever they are using and finally destroy that grand effect, even smudging it to rubbish with their hands! One guy is particularly annoying. I want to shout in his face the plain truth, to make him shrink and shut up: "But I'm a genius you useless fart!" Wanting to work, I shout instead: "I'm good! Can't you handle that? I'm asking for your help. We're both artists. Whats your problem?" He says, "You're always hanging around, demanding attention, angling for short-cuts and favours. But this is not YOUR place and you'll NEVER get a job here! Now GO AWAY!"
and the list, like my memory of the dream, gets murky:
My flat-mate Edwardo is doing your website for you. I do all my own! All the programming. But I understand his mistrust. I asked a friend of Edwardo's to help (reckon that's Kushtrim). Edwardo? I don't know any Edwardo. He hates me, though he's been quiet on that score, has not said a word. I didn't even know he knew me. As much as I detest physical dealings and would never strike someone... but in this ridiculous situation. "Do they all feel this way?" I ask him angrily: "Let me speak to the boss" (of this kind of Tate Modern)."Anyone. Give me a card, an e-mail address!" He feigns searching his pockets but insults me again instead. Something about wearing odd knickers. (That's Maya's complimenting my light-grey underpants.) I pretend to be furious and approach him as if to punch out his lights. He gets the message at last and runs, suddenly a coward, through a side door in the huge hall. But I'm certain he'll return to taunt me. I can't stand it. I escape the place, quickly but not running, with dignity, through a short-cut passed the cafeteria (appears to be the B.F.I. bar where I worked on the South Bank). A wheel-chair. Take a piece of this! (Don't know what that refers to or who said it.) A once attractive middle-aged lady who doesn't like me. My mural-painting partner Frieda Rommel, whose father was a known DDR sculptor. More attractive but less bright. (Frieda was not bright, but I don't know why she crops up). (Completely lost the thread by now.) Jeremy. Kushtrim. Feelings of not getting on.
Ends with a word from that annoying helper:
"Upstart!"
April 27
WHILST MAYA WORKS IN THAT DICKENSIAN ENVELOPE FACTORY
I can't even bike over to meet her for lunch. Too busy. Or merely preoccupied. Thinking mostly. Fretting, forever plotting. Brainstorming 1001 ways to resolve a life-long paradox which cannot be resolved without utter success; basic survival of the poor extraordinary artist. At home - first home of my own, bright and loving - earning nothing, shrinking from any idea of proletarian work, which would by now do me in, spiritually, creatively, as surely as close-starvation did physically in the bad first ten years of Berlin. Since dumping the dole system there to live here in luxury, life is mildly imploding. To be sure, the first six months were dreamy, as we knew they would be. But as I suddenly can't afford to rent that small shared studio next to the envelope factory in order to push on with at least the Theater Throne, I haven't felt so lost since pre-Wallywoods desperation. Though I understand well I am not desperate. Nothing like that. Creatively lost, I imply. Hence an awakening interest in the deconstructive art of writing. That at least is fulfilling, like extravagant doodling. Never-the-less, little has soured. I have landed after all in atheist's heaven shared with an atheist angel of biblical loveliness. My mug overfloweth, non-monetarily speaking; but so does my frustration. Thus, accepting the business of daily life outside the haven of Wallywoods, at once sorely and scarcely missed, I cleaned the kitchen floor and windows today, which impressed the hell out of both of us, and alleviated minor home tensions forensically and temporarily. Tomorrow I'm on the toilet and hallway. Vital occupation mimicking real work as I bide my brain-time... and quality brain-time it is. Somehow I am growing, gaining, always testing the gears. Regardless of a taunting, nostalgic, severely cracked rear-view mirror. Returning from Vienna yesterday and a testing visit to Maya's other familiy, whom she loves dearly, I had reason to doubt everything south of Schönefeld, believing perhaps my character can never withstand transportation into acceptable reality. As if a new breed of physics is needed. Or a soul transplant. But the ream of ideas, the all-encouraging scheme of things, my own remarkable scheme of things, are clear as my purpose and road. A road upon which there is no place for doubt, and certainly none for doubling back. From where I sit now, I sent a couple of messages, this glorious afternoon while the sun - not this solitary moon - mocked my fabulous new imprisonment through our unwashed office window. That one I'll clean next month. The first sped off to my better half, who gives me everything, and now sleeps between shifts in that horrible envelope factory. The second careered reluctantly towards 3,746 people in Facebook party-land, who don't give a damn. And why should they.
"My Dear. Sorry about lunch; cleaning and writing about piano-thrones today. At last. I wish I had enough energy to do all the things I want to. Sometimes I get overwhelming feelings of panic that I am accomplishing so little so slowly. At those times it is very hard to do something just for pleasure, like take a break, sit in the sun, visit my Lady, or even eat. I just want to 'work', when I can, as best I can, as long as I can - before I get lazy or depressed again. I know I've told you that before. Over and over. But I know too, it's hard for you to really understand. I am an 'artist' and what I consider extremely important may have nothing to do with daily life, wider life, or anything else. But I can't help it. Without my art, planning my art, writing about my art, dreaming about my art... I am nothing. That is me, that's all. But that is NOT a negative thing. I can love you too. Back to real life. Although I put in the correct pin number, my i-Phone won't send texts or call out. Am looking into the problem. I cleaned the top of the fridge. Yum yum. Gonna do the windows. But first, gonna make beans... Look forward to seeing my Maya. Love above all, your Paul."
"...After much reorganisation I have begun writing about the human-rights project "the 12 Piano Thrones" in continuing attempts to interest ONE journalist and/or ONE sponsor. They are a series of 12 fully working execution machines built from 12 upright pianos - a huge endeavour, which may never be completed without long-deserved support and assistance. Death penalty methods MUST be discussed!"
April 10
HALCYON NIGHTMARE
Finest Summer weather outside, sun pouring through the windows inside. Spring hardly occured. People in shorts, cafe tables filled with loungers, barbeques already a weekend feature. Will soon be tanned; others already are. Incredible contrast to recent never-ending Winters in Berlin. Global warming at its most charitable.
April Fools Day
HALLO MR MORSIL
"I am contemporary artist Paul Woods, born in London, matured in Berlin, now active in Zurich. I would like to appear on Art City's list of artists, but especially I would like to be considered for a review. i.e., something in depth. Please tell me what to send and to which address in each case. This is my recently revamped website, including links and images (www..). Although I have been dubbed some kind of genius by foolish fellow artists as well as upstanding ones, my underground roots and spikey character have put off occasional journalists over my most important recent years. Clearly my career can only advance upon being explored, written about and at last exploited. After all, years of starving can result in death. Here is what appears on the 'Wallywoods' page at Saatchi Online:
'Born London 1964. Didn't like school. Conceptual artist, founder & curator of Wallywoods Berlin, creator of Berlin Big Chairs, leader of the 12 piece Broken Pianos Orchestra, published poet, writer of Wally's Log, inventor of Paradox Paul's functioning Time Machine (yes, it functions; wealthy sponsor required), father of the 'Million Minus Euros' alternative financial system for artists, discoverer of the Napoleon Photograph (photography expert & writer required), squatter of the Weissensee Culture Center in Berlin, sketcher of half-a-million chairs on said culture-center walls & ceilings, constructor of the Flying Guillotine Piano Throne - one of 12 Piano Thrones, each made from a complete piano, all equally execution contraptions (gunsmith & sword-maker required), for which a London exhibition in the not distant future would almost finally satisfy this excitingly undiscovered conceptual artist & art show organiser.'
Yours willingly... etc."
(Never answered. What a cunt.)
March 26
HAD A BRILLIANT IDEA
last night and posted a surprise event for April 1: three art parties with video link-up, auctions and who knows what, to take place "somewhere in Zurich, somewhere in Berlin and somewhere in London". This morning I deleted the brilliant idea, realising April 1 is at the end of this week, which is like saying, April 1 is today. Which of course it is, if you are reading this on April 1, no matter what the year. But the intention was sound. It's taking a jiffy longer setting up a gallery in Zurich as I had planned, so why not do more stuff "in exile" or "on the road", announcing "Paradox World Projects" are already up and running, which they virtually are. Could even earn a buck on the side (or on three sides) which also fits the plan.
The weak link is London. Why Dan the Man doesn't even answer my messages I can't fathom. I may be forced to demote him.
March 23
DEAR DIARY
Long time no see, no hear, no write. Last live entry was TO SQUAT OR NOT TO SQUAT on November 20, 2009. Here's what it currently warns at the blog link at the website:
"I stopped writing my online diaries when real life finally caught up with my expectations of it, crushing major reserves of energy and forcing yet more priority changes (i.e., activity cuts). And the HTML programming got bummed out ages ago due to the minor differences between browsers (that damned FONT command) and I lost all interest in performing another tedious website overhaul. But I've started again now, intending to fill gaps with texts stored haphazardly here and there, rabbiting as ever on and on into a rosier than rosy future... and quite an eventful past by now."
So, Diary, welcome back into my life. I've hardly missed you at all. Me? I am quite the poor artist as ever, thank you. But rich in experience - for what experience may be worth, compared to, say, success. I've been Jumping. Things here and now are quite different. Indeed VERY different, thank the stars. Though truthfully, I thank mainly myself. No, wait, let me thank my wife. Yes, that is correctly typed: my WIFE, of exactly three months yesterday. It feels for the both of us that it was yesterday - as indeed it was, relatively speaking. I thought it would never happen, or could never happen. Perhaps should never happen. And it nearly didn't. (Subtle are the ways of the Machine.) Remember Maya from the Comic Shop? Well, how shall I put it...
HOOK, LINE AND SINKER!
That's the crucial update. Plus the fact that I am SICK of programming and repairing these HTML pages. Which is just one of the reasons I've put it off so long. But somehow I am back in the present. In case you too have just returned to Earth, here's one of today's many terrible headlines:
RADIATION REACHES EUROPE
Greetings from Zurich, my new home town. (Zurich is not the capital of Switzerland, which is not part of Europe.)
March 15
INTRODUCTION FROM THE REVAMPED WEBSITE:
"I am taking a break from building Piano Thrones to redevelop this website and organise an art space in Zurich together with my wife Maya and whoever wishes to join us. Innovation and productivity are the keys to headway in an art world which seems at times, especially to those who relentlessly refuse to comply to mainstream expectations, to be buried beneath self-interest and centuries of defensively strewn museum dust. Lots of links and info still to be added. All projects listed are my own, past & future, unless otherwise clearly stated. Some history of my six year gallery & events project(s) in Berlin, which kept me busy learning the trade and forging healthy alliances across the world, can be found under 'Wallywoods' near the bottom of this page. Supported initiatives will not be solely my own; if it appears so at first glance it is because the concept at this stage, though long considered, is embryonic. I foresee organic growth and inclusion of boundless new ideas from imaginative partners, not just in Europe, but from places I haven't yet heard of. Though I live now in Zurich, my passion for Berlin, plus fresh connections with some old friends in my home-town London, have encouraged me to set up this triangular model of creative exchange based around these three cities. Principally, right now, partners are required in all aspects of building a rewarding alternative cultural business, whilst never foregoing the fundamental enjoyment of Art for all concerned. That is introduction enough I think. Please enjoy clicking around - at the risk of losing yourself within over 600 pages of ideas & documentation covering 10 years of this website, formerly known as wallywoods.com - and never be shy to contact myself, M.M. or Mr Flynn with your own original concepts, enquiries and criticisms. After all, this new and typically untypical enterprise 'Paradox World' is designed to thrive on all three."