Zimzum Issue 1

hadasta

For more details visit hadastapouchi.com

issue

n o . i

Founder and Editor in chief

Hadas Tapouchi

Proofreader

Frances Mossop

Graphic Designer

Ella Ponizovsky Bergelson

A U T U M N 2 0 1 7 FREE

CRIME SCENES IN EUROPE

During WWII, an extremely complex network of forced labour was established

in Germany and German-occupied Europe

Hadas Tapouchi

D

uring WWII, an extremely

complex network of forced

labour was established in Germany and

German-occupied Europe. The forced

labourers and prisoners of war (POW)

living in those camps were forced to

work in a various industries. They

produced goods for the German war

effort and construction materials for

the Reich and the occupied territories.

These settlements would constitute the

nerve centres of the “Thousand Year

Reich”. In Berlin alone, there were

3,000 sites that used forced labour, or

in which forced labourers and POW

were hosted or kept imprisoned. The

characteristics of the forced labour

industry during WWII bears all the

hallmarks of a global network of forced

labour. After WWII, most of the

camps were destroyed, converted for

different usage, or rebuilt. They

became cafes, schools, galleries,

institutional buildings, parks,

museums, sport fields, or just open,

abandoned surfaces.

TODAY, THOSE PLACES

HAVE BECOME CAFES,

SCHOOLS, GALLERIES,

INSTITUTIONAL

BUILDINGS, PARKS,

MUSEUMS, SPORT

FIELDS, OR JUST

OPEN, ABANDONED

SURFACES. IN SOME

CASES, THE LOCATIONS

CONTINUE TO BE

USED BY THE SAME

COMPANIES THAT

MADE USE OF THEM

DURING THE WAR.

Concentrations camps, as they

developed after the outbreak of the

war, would gradually become sources

of slave labour for the German war

machine. As the German forces began

to retreat from the East in 1943, with

the Allied successes in Northern

Africa and Italy, a large pool of slave

labour became essential in both

production for the war effort and in

maintaining agriculture, industry and

services back in the German Reich.

For the most part, slave labourers

were ethnic Poles and Russian

speakers.

However, from 1943 onwards, the

Germans began “reimporting” Jews

from the ramps at death camps to

work as slaves in the Reich. Joining the

slave labourers from the east, there

were hundreds of thousands of workers

from the occupied Low Countries and

France. Wartime emergency laws gave

the authorities a perfect cover to

maintain slave workforce.

Lerchenfeld, a former Nazi built district home to the Hermann-Göring Mills, both of which were built by prisioners of war and forced labour workers.

Photo: Hadas Tapouchi, Krems 2017

A class system was created amongst

Fremdarbeiter (“foreign workers”),

starting with well-paid workers from

Germany's allies or neutral countries, to

forced labourers from conquered

so-called Untermenschen (“subhumans”)

populations.

UNDER THESE

CATEGORIES,

A STATE (REGIME) CAN

CONTROL ANY EXISTING

HUMAN RIGHTS

The list was organised into categories:

a

Guests Workers

from the countries

that were not allied with Germany

a Military internees - prisoners of war

b Civiliant workers

c Eastern workers

b

Forced Workers

c

Being responsible or irresponsible

regarding people’s rights while avoiding

any compensation, it was a very

profitable form of human trafficking;

even more so than penal labour. One of

the biggest examples in Berlin is the

Autobahn network, realized during the

second and the third phases (1938-1942

and 1942-1945) by the Todt

Organisation.

The organisation was able to draw on

“conscripted” labour from within

Germany through the Reich Labour

Service (Reichsarbeitsdienst, RAD). The

submarine factories also resulted in a

strong economy, producing a net of

prisoners all over the Reich: Bremen,

Hamburg, Kiel, even as far as Bergen

(Norway) and Bordeaux (France).

Through this method, the framework

was activated systematically and

sustainably; to recover from the

catastrophe, the catastrophe became

inherent to daily life, and the labour

became a routine.

Forced labour industry extended into

various areas, such as the production of

electrical components and weapon

materials, e.g. V-2 rocket parts built for

Siemens.

THE

IMPORTANCE

OF ART

PROJECTS

FOR THE

AWARENESS OF

HISTORY

Angeliki Douveri

D

uring prosperous times, as the

‘80s and ‘90s were for Greece,

regardless of whether it was real

prosperity or a bubble that finally

burst, history tends to be hidden as it

cannot be a pleasant subject for

anyone. Especially in Greece, history

- and let’s just look at the 20th century

- is a bloody and painful subject,

involving oversimplified ideas of the

“good” and the “bad”, which of course

alternates depending on which side

you’re standing.

Is a work of art a real artwork until it

is viewed by the public? Probably not.

Does a personal testimony have any

historical value until it is noted and

published by historians? Definitely

not. Can art help history overcome a

national trauma? How does that work?

Yes, it works as a tool for discussion, as

an opportunity to bring the past into

contemporary discourse, as a gentler

way of sourcing the facts and all the

detailed stories around them. It may

also work as a way of therapy or

catharsis once the pain has been dealt

with. This makes the importance of art

projects that approach history all the

more important.

History tends to be

hidden, as it cannot be

a pleasant subject for

anyone

Tapouchi’s “Transforming” project in

the region of Rethymno, Crete,

revealed a tremendous lack of

historical documentation of facts that

took place only a few decades back. It

seems like the deeper the wound is, the

bigger the silence. This may be a

cultural choice of not passing on the

trauma, of allowing the offspring to be

happier. But history cannot be

escaped. It runs in our blood, it forms

our being, even if on a subconscious

level. By not dealing with it, in reality

we prolong the pain rather than avoid it.

2 8


1

One of the primary

sources of inspiration for

my initial photographic projects was

Rainer Kubatzki’s book: Standorte und

Topographie in Berlin und im

brandenburgischen Umland 1939 bis

1945 (2001). Subsequent to my

reading the book, I collected

documentations made in locations that

were transformed into organic/

normalised parts of the urban

landscape in Berlin.

Along the process, I was examining

other historical events that occurred

during WWII.

This examination allowed me to

broaden the senses of crime scene, and

to regard the concept of normalisation

from different situations and events as

massacres, executions, etc.

The photograph seeks to unravel the

scene, to untie the structure.

IN KREMS, I COLLABORATED WITH

DR ROBERT STREIBEL. MOST OF

THE FINDINGS WERE BASED ON HIS

PAST STUDIES.

Transforming shows how memory is

formative and is one of the primary

practices for preserving normalisation.

Memory teaches the subject in

accordance with models of thinking

and creating, and also with regard to

what its visual reflection will look like:

Positive, visible, monumental,

victimising, free, decadent, etc. The

memory connects the past and the

future in a “systematic” way. It is a form

of commemorating the past and

designing the future.

In a groundbreaking essay on the

nature and power of memory from

1989, Pierre Nora discusses the

transience of memories, explaining how

Memory is constantly

on our lips because it no

longer exists.

reverberates in Michel Foucault’s

influential theories of ironic “countermemory”

and “effective” history with

its moments of intensity, its lapses, its

extended periods of feverish agitation,

its fainting spells. Nora supports

Foucault’s “counter memory” that

becomes a milestone in modern

western academies.

Considering the brutality that Nora

speaks about going through

deconstruction, I am trying to evaluate

what elements are necessary to produce

normality. This debate was and is

relevant in every culture, since it is a

crucial means to rewrite history.

Moreover, it may even work as a tool to

substitute written history into another

narrative that is more befitting the

current political atmosphere.

Nevertheless, Foucault’s approach

introduces practices of remembering and

forgetting in the context of power

relations, focusing not only on what is

remembered and forgotten, but also how

it happens, by whom, and to what effect.

THE THESIS

DEVELOPED FROM

A COMBINATION

OF ARTISTIC AND

HISTORIOGRAPHICAL

RESEARCH

CONDUCTED

BETWEEN

2013 AND 2017

I plan to continue this research and

create an archive of collective portraits.

An archive in terms of visible forms of

knowledge: a collection of images that

intends to illustrate a plethora of things

in a systematic or problematic way.

The initial project began as

photographic research, focused on the

aesthetics of contemporary images of

places used as forced labour camps

during WWII. I have investigated

campsites in Poland (as part of a CK

ZAMEK residency in Poznan), Greece

(ArtAmari residency in Crete) and,

recently, with AIR Kunsthalle Krems,

Austria.

As an artist-in-residence, I was able to

research and photograph drawing on

local knowledge. This involved

collaboration with historians,

archivists, and local people and city

planners. Usually, projects divide into

three phases:

a Research

b Photography

c Introducing the project to the public

through exhibitions and artist talks

In Crete, the situation was different,

and the project was presented in the

form of research and information in an

academic context, as well as in the

central archives and the local

population. The overriding feeling was

that there is neither sufficient curiosity,

nor any concrete knowledge about any

of the events that took place during

WWII. Most of my knowledge was

gained through meeting people in their

natural environment and by listening

to their own subjective experiences.

THE ARCHIVE

CONTAINS

1.000 IMAGES FROM

FOUR DIFFERENT

COUNTRIES

Stela, testimony of Gerakari massacre, Crete,

Greece. Photo: Hadas Tapouchi, 2016

The research will provide a theoretical

frame for the work that I have carried

out to this date. It will present a theory

that aims to shed light on a

normalisation process in which images

are deconstructed and reconstructed

over many years. The focus of this

project has gradually broadened from

an interest in a specific historical

dimension to a preoccupation with the

subject of archiving and storing - how

we “write” and accumulate our

histories and memories, both as

individuals and as a culture.

Additionally, one is

inevitably confronted with

obsessions, particularly in

Continental Europe, with a

dialectic mechanism of

memory and of loss. The

archive contains 1000 images

from four different countries,

while each one exposes many

layers of the city or landscape

that were mostly hidden or

unknown to its inhabitants,

and the revelation itself

attracted significant public

interest. It reveals as well the

many competing narratives

that emerge after a conflict.

However, it also specifically

contextualises these new

experiences in a colossal

historically unique system in

which all “others” were

victims.

Screen shot: Mapping Krems

AS PART OF AN ARTIST-IN-

RESIDENCE PROGRAMME IN THE

WINTER OF 2016, I WAS ABLE TO

EXTEND MY WORK TO THE CITY

OF POZNAN, POLAND (FORMERLY

POSEN).

The image was taken in Poznan, Poland during the CK ZAMEK artist residency

in Poznan. The exhibition stretched over dozens of public spaces around the city,

for example, in bus stations, trams and on billboards.

Screen shot from a video documentation: Hadas Tapouchi, Poznan 2016

Phenomenon memory

The phenomenon of complicity

branched all over Europe, as it took

place in several locations and was an

enormous exchange network of humans

and goods - normalisation happened

everywhere. Significantly, this is why a

“transforming project” could be used in

any post-conflict situation. As I

demonstrated in the case studies above,

memory is a global concept and the

research represents the official narrative

clash, as it encourages facing new

narratives and new memories. Through

understanding the power of narrative

visibility, I am creating an aesthetic

theory.

The challenge of visualising

“disciplinary power” in art

Throughout this research, I demonstrate

the tense intertwining of disciplinary

power and everyday life, and how it is

perceived as an obvious situation. Power

strives to be understood as something

unreachable; by means of its very

banality, it assumes a double character

of being overexposed and invisible/

hidden at the same time; it operates

according to its own unfathomable but

unquestioned (by entire societies) rules.

The research deals with the problem

of two major issues: Firstly, the city

(and landscape) as the manifestation

of normalisation. Secondly, the city’s

generally hidden and unspoken

codes that regulate the order

imposed on, and derived from, the

city.

Michel Foucault’s publication

Discipline and Punish (1975) deals

with control and normalisation as a

combination of strategies to practice

maximum social control with

minimum use of force, including

the way in which normalisation

constructs idealised human

behavior. This is analogous to the

process of change as discussed by

Foucault:

The man described

for us, whom we are

invited to free,

is already in himself

the effect of a subjection

much more profound

than himself

The equilibrium between the present

and past is disturbed because the

discontinuity creates very different

narratives. Memory has couple of ways

of being treated: personal or collective;

and it is activated freely through

nostalgia, similarity, and metaphor.

Memory for Nora is a paradigm

suffused into contemporary culture.

The establishment of worship as

cultural initiation, memorial buildings,

flags, anthems and memoir writings are

a single phenomenon. The discussion

concerns historic preservation as a

phenomenon of a strong sense and

cultural identity. Pierre Nora writes:

Memory takes root

in the concrete, in

spaces, gestures, images,

and objects: history

binds itself strictly to

temporal continuities,

to progressions and to

relations between things.

The linguist James E. Young has looked

at the modern concretisation and

aestheticisation of memory and

national narratives in relation to

Germany in his publication The

Texture of Memory. In the work, he

touches upon the consequences of these

first prototypes that emerged as dozens

of “counter memorial” projects became

the standard for subsequent Holocaust

memorial competitions in Germany.

Young discusses the work by German

artist Horst Hoheisel, who constructed

a huge fountain to commemorate a

similar fountain donated to the city of

Kassel by a local Jewish entrepreneur,

Sigmund Aschrott, in 1908. The Nazis

destroyed this fountain, and Hoheisel

buried his version of the fountain

beneath the ground. And as in the case

of the fountain, Pierre Nora warned in

his book Between Memory and

History:

The less memory is

experienced from the

inside, the more it exists

through its exterior

scaffolding and outward

signs

In his work, Hoheisel solved the

problem by streaming the water flow

towards the ground. Hoheisel had

already been known for his negativeform

monument in Kassel, a simple but

provocative anti-solution memorial

proposed in the contest: an antimemory

sculpture, which illustrates

that to not have a memory, or to not

remember, is to shatter the object.

Hoheisel’s submission for the

Holocaust memorial competition in

Berlin was even more radical. He

suggested demolishing the

Brandenburg Gate, burying and

dissolving all the remains over its

former site, and finally covering the

entire memorial area with granite

plates. The memory’s history critique

Methodological photography

The photographs are typological, warm,

inviting, and even discreet. Thus, they

stand in contrast to the shocking and

ghoulish images known from that

period, and which are being used to

this day to describe history in a one

dimensional narrative, an untouched

narrative. Everyday life is underlined

through the use of colour photography

and the occasional inclusion of

pedestrians, who sometimes may

even look at the camera. History

stands at the centre of the research,

not as an abstract goal in itself, but

rather as an instrument to understand

contemporary reality.

The photographic medium I am

using in order to visualise historical

data is the medium format colour

film. It enables me to gain hyperrealistic

images. The idea behind it is

to empower and emphasise my topic:

normalisation. The use of hyperrealistic

images is intended to stress

the reason for speaking necessarily

about the present, then the past. The

past is inherent in the image/reality,

and there is no need to highlight it

more than it already is. Normalisation

and memory are types of power that

are free from any law. They constitute

power in the sense that people do not

need any authority to control them.

This power is no longer imposed from

above through outright coercion,

but by disciplining people to serve

power themselves. Not only prisons,

also urban and landscape aesthetics

such as nature, hospitals, schools, and

museums are the only physical and

visible evidence that demonstrate a link

to any architectural form.

Public meets Art

The objective of photographing and

thus documenting is to encourage

observers to integrate their own

historical knowledge into an everydayorientated

perspective and sensitise

them to the process of normalisation,

where experiences of violence are

hidden or ignored and eventually

re-absorbed. In my research, I use

images as site-specific installations,

reflective of the historical occurrence,

culture and memory. I want to bring

this to light through various modes of

representation, neutralised in everyday

life. The site-specific works installed in

the public sphere - bus stations,

billboards, newspapers - do not

interrupt, or draw attention to, the

relevance of daily life. Much of my

knowledge was acquired within

residencies, conferences and artist talks

that I held, and situations in which I

had the opportunity to interview

people from different fields, as well as

reading and listening to memoirs.

How art meets the public: how can the

artistic, theoretical materials enter the

public, make it visual and, by doing so,

make it real, substantial. The public

performance is to ask the community

to observe the obvious, to re-think and

re-ask what part they play in the public

sphere, what their role is in the

representation of collective memory.

Hadas Tapouchi is a visual artist,

founder and editor of Zimzum

newspaper. She is based in Berlin.


3

AIR

KREMS

AUSTRIA

Last July/August, I was invited to be an artist-inresidence

at Krems. During these months, I examined

my practice along the Danube and in the lush

vineyards, photographing the sites based on data I

achived during my stay. The purpose of the newpaper

is to expand the concept of normalisation; to examine

how it functions in different areas. I asked twelve

colleagues I got to know during the previous and

current study to write about what normalisation is for

them and how it functions in their field.

Stalag XVII B Krems - Gneixendorf. The biggest camp for

POW in Austria where 70,000 prisoners were held.

Photo: Hadas Tapouchi, Krems 2017

IG gallery

T

he images in the exhibition are

a continuation of my memory

practice. My works are being shown

in vitrine tables, in an attempt to

present the images within the

language of the world of findings and

discoveries.

In the video work Landschaft

(Landscape), I made in Krems, my

aim is to examine the landscape as a

site of amnesia and erasure. It is a

strategic site for burying the past and

masking history through natural

beauty. Adorno writs:

Print screen from the video Landschaft.

Video: Hadas Tapouchi, Krems 2017

Beauty in nature

is the history

that stands still

and refuses to be

revealed

In this context, I used the creation as

an extention of the concept of

erasure-recreation. It is an abstraction

of space and an illustration of space,

reductionism to what appears from a

distant perspective, a vantage point

that controls, frames and focuses the

landscape in terms of such well

known epithets as pre-poetic,

picturesque, lofty, pastoral, etc.

During the process, I referred to the

text by Professor William John

Thomas Mitchell, an iconologist:

What do pictures want (2005)?

He quotes the term "totemism" from

Claude Lévi-Strauss, “defining

relations of ideological status

between two series, one natural and

the other cultural.” Is that not the

definition of landscape?

The title was the result of my

researching the etymology of the suffix

“-schaft”, which can be traced to the

Indo-Germanic root * skapi / * skapja /

* skafti, derived from the verb

"scapjan", which means “create”.

THE LANDSCAPE WAS

MEANT TO BE LOOKED

AT, NOT TOUCHED.

The totem, like the landscape, is an

ideological instrument by which

cultures give themselves the status of

nature, planting themselves in the

earth, or a symbolic space in which

communities have a common destiny.

Artothek Niederösterreich. In a company named Gustloff-

Werke POW´s re-filled cartridges (firearms) after 1940.

Photo: Hadas Tapouchi, Krems 2017

A R T

I S T

T A L

K S

Artist talk #1

City Hall, Stein

Rathausplatz 2, Stein

Monday, October 2nd 2017 at 6pm

Panel with Dr. Robert Streibel and Hadas Tapouchi.

Moderator: Andreas Hoffer

Artist talk #2

IG gallery

Gumpendorfer Str. 10-12, Vienna

Wednesday, October 4th 2017 at 7pm

Panel with artists:

Iris Andraschek, Hubert Lobnig and Hadas Tapouchi.

Moderator: Ruth weismann


H

ow can you live here with all

this knowledge? asks a visitor

to the town. All these stories about its

inhabitants. Here a mass grave, there

dead corpses, a hangman's space, a

blood smeared shop window, the owner

of the electrical shop arrested and forced

to sell up, and a 22-year-old shot on the

parish square directly in front of the

church in February 1945.

Not to mention the place on the country

road, where, in the late 1990s, the doctor

was still bellowing about the “Jewish pig”

whose daughter had sold the house too

expensively. 200 meters away is the

Sappeur monument to the fallen of the

First World War. It was here that the last

commemoration of Adolf Hitler took

place on the 6 May 1945. And, in the

1980s, neo-Nazis stopped here for their

Flag Day parade. Within sight is the

only monument to a general of the

German Wehrmacht, Karl Eibl. Erected

in 1959. When the monument was

moved here to the Südtyrolerplatz in the

1970s, the Red Army obelisk had already

disappeared a second time, and the

1,600 dead Russian prisoners of the

STALAG 17B camp had been exhumed

for a second time.

The Franz Zellerplatz was named after a

beheaded resistance fighter, and if it had

not been for the false window bearing

the inscription “It is difficult to put the

head under the guillotine”, nothing

would remind us of who Franz Zeller

really was, and some would think the

place bears the name of an operetta

composer. From here, you can also see

the house where the 22-year-old deserter

Richard Ott hid. His school friends

called the police three times to demand

his arrest.

On April 2, the area around the station

lay in debris after being bombed by

American aircraft. About 300 civilians

were killed. And on 6 April 1945, the

dead lay in the streets in front of the

penitentiary. And the dead, for whom

no place in the mass graves can be

found, are thrown into the Danube

where the landing stage now stands.

WERE THE PEOPLE OF

KREMS PARTICULARLY

“EVIL”?

How can one live here? But the past

has something comforting. Everything

has passed, the tears have dried - if

there ever were any. And the

opposites were clear enough. There

the victims, and there the

perpetrators, and, in between, those

who had watched, those who had

looked away, and some who had also

helped. Were there many who had

this courage? Whoever wants to tell

history with statistics, and believes to

be able to decide upon good and evil

will have a hard time. The 99% for

Adolf Hitler are not the whole truth.

But what is the truth? Were the

people of Krems more fanatical than

the inhabitants of other small towns?

Was anti-Semitism more pronounced

here? Why, nevertheless, was the

resistance not so insignificant in this

place?

The Arian paragraph was used for the

first time in the Wachau at a gym

festival in the 19th century. A bomb

explosion was the decisive factor that

led to the banning, in 1933, of the

NSDAP in Austria. Within a few

months, there were explosions in

several places, for example, in front of

the parish church in Stein, and in front

of the „Englischen Fräulein“ school.

From Krems, Gauleiter Josef Leopold

conducted, Austria wide, the illegal

NSDAP. And in Krems, the November

pogrom had already taken place in

September 1938. Jews and those

thought to be Jews were forced to

vacate the temple.

Are these facts sufficient for a finding?

Lack of numbers govern feelings.

Consolatory past? But what is the

difference between the victims and the

perpetrators and those who are not;

those who helped?

PERSIL COUPONS AND

THE LARGE WASHING

PROCESS

Historical research

is not a game of

shadows featuring

only black and

white. And the

sweeping accusation

that “one” did not

question the past

after 1945 is

difficult to uphold.

All well and good.

In the summer of

1945, Leopold Figl

had already believed

that a line should

be drawn. The

debate was over

before it had even

begun. National

socialists were

recorded in lists

and there were

people's courts. In

exactly 136,829

cases, preliminary

investigations were

initiated on

suspicion of

national socialist

crimes or

“illegality”. The

abundance of cases

allowed for very

rapid judgements in

which the

perpetrators were

sentenced according

to formal offences

- regardless of what

they had done.

Members of the

Order of Blood,

illegal NSDAP

party members.

Daily parallel cases,

senates verses

former Nazis. Was

there always time to

look for the truth?

Were there any

possibilities for the

victory of justice?

Those who had

been branded as a

Nazi still had the

possibility of

showing a “Persil voucher”. The big

white wash began. Many defendants

were often able to name one, two, three

or more people who said the person

concerned was decent, that he had

helped, and so on. A nation of

resistance fighters?

How much truth was there in this

white washing process? The most

striking instance is probably the story

of a Jewish woman in Krems, who,

thanks to her “Aryan” husband,

survived the war because he had refused

to allow her to divorce him. Shortly

after the liberation, total strangers came

to her apartment for confirmation that

they had not betrayed her, had not

denounced her. Everyone had a Jewess,

a resistance fighter, a non-Nazi whom

they had helped.

In the case of illegal Turkish dual

citizens, case-by-case trials are an

elaborate procedure. The results of

historical research in 2017 are often as

uncertain as ever concerning the one

who has adopted the shadow game.

A country cannot be improved with

court cases. Justice does not mean

re-education at the same time.

Condemnation does not guarantee

change of attitude. The understanding

of what has happened does not occur

with condemnation. Usually, the

convicted person feels unjustly treated

and the families see themselves as

victims. To examine this would be an

exciting field. Not to provide the

perpetrators with the sacredness of new

“sacrifices”, but to provide an

understanding of the times and the

options for politicians after 1945 would

be an option. And, to question how a

country can be so convinced of Nazi

crimes.

History is not a game of shadows. But

some people simply want to stretch

everything. As Oskar Helmer, Minister

of the Interior put it, the money for

lawyers and nerves has first to be raised

so as to be able to fight for ten years for

the return of aryanised property. Ten

years are not unusual.

HISTORY

IS NO GAME

OF SHADOWS

Thoughts on dealing with the Nazi past

in Krems and elsewhere

As of the summer of 1945, the demand

for the drawing of the line was put,

but, all the same, there were the

occupying powers. This anti-fascism by

decree was anything but sustainable.

There was a commemoration of

victims, but in a language and under

political pre-decision that sometimes

robbed this undertaking of its honesty.

The victims of the massacre in Stein

were remembered in the period

between 1945 and 1955. After which,

the victims' associations had to organise

their own commemorations away from

public view. According to the state

treaty in “free” Austria in 1955, the

fallen soldiers, sometimes also called

heroes, appeared once again on the

agenda. The time for heroic

commemoration and fast forgetting.

We were all victims. And suddenly

neither the perpetrators' nor the

victims' names had ever been

anonymous, and those who had helped

were glad of not being discovered.

By the very latest in 1948, the SPÖ and

the ÖVP began wooing the former.

Faber was publishing local newspapers

again. The old spirit occasionally

celebrated, and, in 1963, Herbert

Faber, the chairman of the comrades'

club, demanded the boycott of a

celebration in which priests who were

murdered in concentration camps were

to be honoured. The coercion towards

Realpolitik in the seventies made

history appear in a different light.

Thus, the “Nestor” of the newspaper

system is personally honoured in Krems

on the occasion of his 80th birthday by

Federal Chancellor Bruno Kreisky.

History is not a game of shadows.

Robert Streibel

Translation Nigel A. James

EXAMPLE KREMS

AFTER 1945:

WE WERE ALL

VICTIMS

In this process of fast forgetting, Krems

plays a pioneering role. Between 1955

and 1969, the integration of people

formerly charged with political crimes

is successfully practiced under Mayor

Franz Wilhelm. The magic word

means an electoral community, and

some cities look enviously towards

Krems. No wonder that the first

reunion of the Stalingrad fighters took

place in Krems in 1959. The mayor

Franz Wilhelm appears as the main

speaker at the comrades' reunion and

engages in striking words for the

former soldiers.

Franz Wilhelm is a proud member of

the German Athletic Association. At

the honouring ceremony of his 30 year

membership, he praises the high ideals

of the association and says that the

avowal to the great German cultural

community was something that should

never be denied. In this context, it is

also fitting to say that Franz Wilhelm

was the only Austrian mayor who

protested against the arrest of the

so-called late home comers. On 31

May 1956, the “Kremser Zeitung”

reported that the Ministry of Justice

had announced that 15 late home

comers from Russian captivity had

been arrested. They had been accused

of taking part in shootings during the

war in Poland, either as policemen or

military personnel. In 1946, these 15

persons were arrested and handed over

to the Russians. After more than nine

years of imprisonment in Russian

prisons, an Austrian Minister of Justice

reserved his right to put the 15 former

police officers in jail again. Franz

Wilhelm, in his telegram to Justice

Minister Dr Hans Kapfer states:

On the basis

of a myriad

of demands

and clues, I

consider it my

duty to draw

your attention

to the fact that

the population

feels great

indignation

and contempt

towards a

judiciary

which finds

against late

home comers

for alleged

crimes, which,

can be said,

have already

been punished

by the many

years of

incarceration

in Russian

prisons. These

men, having

recently

arrived home,

had been

looking to

freedom. I

do not wish

to conceal

from you

the fact that

the chosen date has a

very bad taste, as if the

time of the liberation

was a choice of tactical

deliberation. Would

you please also take note

of the fact that certain

new so-called “war

crimes”, which having

been directed by hate

and revenge instincts of

the first post-war years,

are now also regarded as

very problematic on an

international scale and

contradict the venerable

tradition of Austrian law

based on the old- Nulla

poena sine lege.

What is said in Latin gets meaningfully

translated, the sentence of the telegram

means nothing other than that an act

can only be punished if the criminality

was determined by law before the act

was committed. When jurists once

concluded that Jews are not human

beings, their murder was right and

could never be punished.

When, in 1956, Austrian recruits

repossessed the barracks in Krems and

Mautern, Mayor Wilhelm, in his

speech as historian, points out that,

since the time of Maria Theresia, Krems

has always been a garrison town. And

the soldiers of the city have a wonderful

character. “Home love, honour, loyalty,

courage and steadfastness, devotion to

the community, and idealism! Our time

needs these ideals again.”

The recollection of the National

Socialism time was a slanting plane.

Everything was sliding. There were

only victims. Therefore, from the

official side, it should not have been

necessary to remember only the

genuine victims. When a declaration

of the mayor was read out in the

council in March 1962, Franz Wilhelm

was not present. Wilhelm is ready to

“remember” without mentioning the

words “national socialism”. This is a

performance and makes it clear that it

was merely a formal act. The big white

wash with a new turbocharger. “Today,

exactly 24 years ago, German troops

invaded Austria. The invasion of these

troops was neither in accordance with

the Austrian government, nor with the

Austrian people. The name Austria was

extinguished. Today, we want to

commemorate all those who died in the

Second World War, all those who were

buried under the bombs, those who

died in the concentration camps, or

those who were executed as upright

Austrians.”

In 1945, Krems showed how to deal

with the past and understood how all

can suddenly become victims. With

this attitude, Krems found itself in

“good” company, but the “electoral

community” was only us.

It took a long time for the perpetrators

and victims to get a name and a face,

and this process has not yet been fully

completed. Mayor Erich Grabner

(ÖVP) spoke in 1988 at the book

presentation of "And, Suddenly They

Were Gone. The Jews of the Gau

Capital Krems and Their Fellow

Citizens”. Mayor Erich Grabner said

that the flap text of the book states that

Krems is a Nazi town - which hurts me.

During the interval, the uncertainty

seemed to paint question marks on the

faces of the listeners. The surprise came

in the form of an afterword.

Unfortunately, the author is right. An

open word. And an entry ticket to the

Krems Society for critical history.

The first signs were set. The monument

in the Jewish cemetery - The Threshold

of Forgetting by Hans Kupelwieser.

Nidetzky and Partners, tax advisers,

open their office in Krems in

Schwedengasse with an exhibition

about the author of a book on Anna

Lambert's Jewish family. Often, “only”

the information is needed. Afterwards,

Gerhard Nideztky commissioned a

work of art, "In this city" by artist Leo

Zogmayer. Anti-Semitism and racial

hatred are so deeply entrenched that

counter-measures must be taken at the

roots of society. A petition against

anti-Semitism and racial hatred and

signed by more than 400 citizens has

been permanently placed in the

foundations of the city's landmark. An

unprecedented private initiative. The

“History Happens” initiative, in

cooperation with students of the BRG

school, takes place without the support

of the city. But, despite this,

information boards relating the history

of the Jewish population have been

installed at 20 sites in business

locations and residential buildings.

In 2014, the city of Krems, under

mayor Reinhard Resch, took over the

organising of the commemorations for

the victims of Stein. Following the

author's suggestion, a small alley was

named named after Gerasimos

Garnelis, a Greek resistance fighter who

survived the massacre. (The descriptive

panel is still missing today!) In 2016,

the city launched a competition for

pupils specialising in contemporary

history. In November 2016, at the

suggestion of the author, a memorial

commemorating the synagogue

destroyed in 1978 was erected. This was

based on the concept implemented by

Hans Kupelwieser in Hietzing, Vienna

in 2004. A reminder with a drop of

vermouth, more than that, it is a bitter

goblet. It is more important for Ernst

Kalt and Josef Wagner to perpetuate

their own name, whilst the Jew from

Krems who took the photograph in

1974 appears merely as A. Nemschitz.

Perhaps, Abraham Nemschitz is too

much for the city? Let us also see this

in a positive way. Much has been

achieved. In the meantime, memorial

work has also become a way of

satisfying personal vanities. Who

would have thought of this in the 80s,

when only 12 people turned up for the

first commemoration of the November

1938 pogrom of the synagogue in

Krems. A social democrat, a

communist, a district court president,

an historian, monastic nurses, teachers,

and a VHS director. To experience

justice, a long breath is needed.

A memorial for the victims of the

resistance, for the murdered deserters,

and Richard Ott who was shot dead in

the middle of the city is still missing.

And history has not yet reached the

town's wine museum. But it won't be

long in coming!

Robert Streibel, historian, author and

director of VHS Hietzing in Vienna;

involved in different activities dealing

with history and commemoration.


5

THIS IS EBENSEE,

LOOKING NORTH

TOWARDS LAKE TRAUNSEE

ON TRANSFORMATION

A letter

Christoph Szalay

D

I want to tell you a story

about the time leaves fell

from the trees all at once. I

am thinking of cataclysm.

More than anything, I

want to tell you this. I

want to disappear in the

night. I want the night to

vanish from memory.

I want to tell you how this

happened.

Paul Guest

DON'T ASK ME

HOW THIS CAME

TO BE.

MAYBE BECAUSE

IT LEAVES

ENOUGH SPACE

FOR WANDERING

THROUGH PAGES

AND PICTURES

WITHOUT THE

DEMAND OF

ANALYTICAL

NOTATION AND

SEQUENCING.

MAYBE BECAUSE I

NEEDED SOMEONE

TO TALK TO OR

AT LEAST THE

ILLUSION, THE

FANTASY OF IT.

MAYBE BECAUSE I

JUST DON'T KNOW

ANY BETTER.

YOU ASK ABOUT

TRANSFORMATION

IN YOUR WORK,

THE PROCESS OF

URBAN,

SOCIAL

TRANSFORMATION

AND THE MANNER

IN WHICH

WHEN I GO ON

YOUR WEBSITE,

I FIND PICTURES

OF STORAGE

BUILDINGS,

GALLERIES,

ABANDONED

FACTORIES,

FAMILY HOMES,

ETC. IN VARIOUS

EUROPEAN CITIES

AND LANDSCAPES.

A LETTER

STRUCTURED

SOMEHOW LIKE

A POEM.

ALL OF THEM

FORMER LABOUR

CAMPS DURING

THE NAZI REGIME.

I LIKE THE

IDEA BEHIND

TRANSFORMATION

BECAUSE IT SPEAKS

OF MOVEMENT AND

STORYTELLING.

TWO TERMS

THAT SEEM TO BE

CENTRAL FOR A

CONTEMPORARY

DISCOURSE ON

THE SHOAH AND

BEYOND, THE

SITES AND STORIES

OF NAZI TERROR

BEGINNING WITH

THE BUILDING

OF THE FIRST

CONCENTRATION

CAMPS IN

DACHAU AND

ORANIENBURG IN

1933.

“I LIKE” IS

MAYBE NOT THE

RIGHT WORDING;

AN HISTORICAL

CATASTROPHE

CAN BECOME

NORMALISED

OR NEUTRALISED.

INSTEAD, I

SHOULD SAY “I

AM INTERESTED

IN” YOUR FOCUS,

SINCE WE ARE

TALKING ABOUT

A CHANGE IN THE

NARRATIVE RIGHT

NOW AS WE SPEAK.

I AM WONDERING

WHAT WILL

HAPPEN TO THE

STORY, WHO WILL

TELL IT, HOW AND

TO WHOM?!

NAVID KERMANI,

A GERMAN

WRITER AND

ORIENTALIST,

RECENTLY WROTE

AN ARTICLE IN

ONE OF THE

BIG GERMAN

NEWSPAPERS,

THE FAZ, WHERE

HE POSES THE

QUESTION OF

THE FUTURE OF

REMEMBERING.

AUSCHWITZ

TOMORROW

AS THE ENGLISH

TRANSLATION

WOULD GO.

HE BEGINS THE

STORY WITH AN

OBSERVATION.

WITNESSES

ARE SLOWLY

BUT SURELY

FADING AWAY.

Photo: Tourismusbüro Ebensee

ear Hadas,

This is a letter.

A letter in different parts.

A letter in the age of

post-intimacy. Of posteverything.

WHAT HE

OBSERVES IS THE

SENSATION OF

UNEASINESS AS

SOON AS HE AND

OTHERS PUT THE

DEUTSCH BADGE

ON THEIR CHEST,

SIGNALLING THE

LANGUAGE THEY

HAD CHOSEN

FOR THE

GUIDED TOUR

THROUGH

AUSCHWITZ-

BIRKENAU

MEMORIAL AND

MUSEUM.

AS A SON

OF IRANIAN

IMMIGRANTS, HE

RECALLS THIS AS A

DEFINING MOMENT

OF BECOMING

DEUTSCH,

UNCONDI-

TIONALLY.

WHAT HE AND

OTHERS IN THE

GROUP FELT

WAS SHAME AND

GUILT, FIRST AND

FOREMOST.

AFTER THE

HORROR OF THE

NAZI REGIME,

IN THE SELF-

CONCEPTION OF

GERMAN SOCIETY.

EVEN TO THE

POINT, AS

KERMANI WRITES,

WHERE IN 1951

(ALREADY) THE

IMPLEMENTATION

LAW FOR ARTICLE

131 OF THE

CONSTITUTION

ENABLING THE

REINTEGRATION

OF FORMER CIVIL

SERVANTS OF THE

NAZI REGIME

WAS JUSTIFIED

AS NECESSARY IN

ORDER FINALLY TO

DRAW THE LINE.

KERMANI'S

EXAMPLES

CONTINUE UP

UNTIL THE

PRESENT DAY,

WITH HIS BELIEF

THAT THE PERIODS

OF TIME LEADING

UP TO DEMANDING

THESE FINAL LINE-

DRAWINGS, UP

TO DECLARING

THE PAST AS

OVERCOME, WILL

BECOME SHORTER

AND INCREASINGLY

GUILELESS.

A PERPETUUM

MOBILE OF

WISHES.

WISHES FOR

NORMALISATION.

WHEN INDEED, AS

KERMANI INSISTS,

THIS LANGUAGE

AND CULTURE

WILL NEVER BE,

CAN NEVER AND

SHOULD NEVER BE,

“NORMAL”.

BUT THIS IS WHAT

HE FEARS AS

TRANSFORMATION

HAPPENS.

AS TIME

PROGRESSES.

AS DEMOGRAPHICS

CHANGE.

IF A SOCIETY IS

BUILT ON THE

STORIES, RITUALS

AND MYTHS THAT

IT RECOUNTS

IN ORDER TO

REASSURE ITSELF,

IT SHOULD

ALSO INCLUDE

THE NEGATIVE,

THE BAD, THE

THE DESIRE FOR

NORMALISATION

SOON BECAME A

DRIVING FORCE

EVIL ONES, AND

AUSCHWITZ IS THE

ULTIMATE EVIL OF

GERMAN HISTORY

AND SOCIETY,

THE ULTIMATE

CAESURA IN

GERMAN HISTORY

AND SOCIETY, ONE

THAT CAN NEVER

BE “NORMALISED”,

CLAIMS KERMANI.

BUT IT IS ALSO

ONE THAT SHOULD

NOT ONLY BE TOLD

AS A STORY OF

GUILT BUT AS A

STORY OF BLANK

SPACES THAT

HAVE NEVER BEEN

FILLED.

A STORY

OF LOSS.

LOSS OF

KNOWLEDGE,

OF CULTURE, OF

LANGUAGE.

IN THE END, HE

CONCLUDES, IT

WILL COME DOWN

TO STORYTELLING

AGAIN.

WHO TELLS THE

STORY, HOW AND

TO WHOM?

SINCE WE ARE

TALKING STORY.

IT'S A VERY

DIFFERENT ONE IN

AUSTRIA.

THE CONSTITUENT

STORY WAS, WITH

REFERENCE TO

THE MOSCOW

DECLARATION

FROM 1943, ONE OF

BEING THE FIRST

VICTIM OF NAZI

GERMANY.

THERE NEVER

REALLY WAS

A STORY OF

REMEMBRANCE,

ONLY ONE OF

FALLEN HEROES OF

WAR, IMPORTANT

ESPECIALLY FOR

THE BONDS AND

BOUNDARIES

OF LOCAL

COMMUNITIES, IN

CONTRADICTION

TO THE EQUALLY

GLORIFYING

REMEMBRANCE OF

THE RESISTANCE.

IT TOOK UNTIL

THE END

OF THE ‘80S

BEFORE ALFRED

HRDLICKA'S

MONUMENT

AGAINST

6


5

WAR AND

FASCISM

IT WAS MY FIRST

VISIT HERE, I HAVE

IN BETWEEN THE

FAMILY HOMES.

WAS WALKING

THROUGH THE

SITES, ABANDONED

AND FORGOTTEN

FALL/WINTER

2015 ISSUE OF

WAS BUILT

TO ADMIT.

TUNNEL.

SITES, TUNNELS,

SOUTH AS A STATE

AROUND THE SAME

THE MAIN SITE

WHAT AFFECTED

ETC. OVER A

OF MIND, THE

TIME, THE RISE

I ALSO HAVE TO

IS THE TUNNEL

ME THE MOST WAS

PERIOD OF YEARS.

PUBLICATION THAT

OF THE RIGHT-

ADMIT THAT,

IN THE NEARBY

NOT ALL OF THE

BECAUSE IF SO,

ACCOMPANIED THE

WING PARTY FPÖ

UNTIL THEN, I

MOUNTAINS.

INFORMATION, ALL

I WAS AND I AM

INSTALLATION OF

BEGAN, WITH

HAD NEVER BEEN

IT WAS MEANT AS

OF THE PICTURES

STILL WONDERING:

DOCUMENTA14.

JÖRG HAIDER AS

TO A KZ BEFORE.

A REPLACEMENT

OF MASS GRAVES

IS THIS

THEIR LEADER,

EBENSEE WAS

FOR PEENEMÜNDE

AND STARVED

TRANSFORMATION?

THERE HAS TO BE

CULMINATING IN

THE FIRST I EVER

AFTER THEY

BODIES, BUT MY

A LANDSCAPE

THE COALITION

VISITED.

ABANDONED THE

REACTION.

THEN I CERTAINLY

FOR WANDERING

GOVERNMENT

WITH THE ÖVP IN

2000, CONTINUING

UNTIL NOW,

WITH THE

REPATRIATION

OF THE TERM AND

CONCEPT

HEIMAT.

HERE, IT ALWAYS

WAS A STORY

OF HIDING AND

FORGETTING.

MOST

OF THE

ORIGINAL

CAMP NO

LONGER

EXISTS;

INSTEAD, THERE

ARE DETACHED

HOUSES WITH

SITE IN 1943.

THE PLAN WAS TO

CONTINUE THE

DEVELOPMENT

AND RESEARCH OF

THE V-2 ROCKETS

UNDERGROUND

AND IN STECRET.

WHEN THE US

80TH INFANTRY

DIVISION ARRIVED

AT THE CAMP SITE

ON 6TH MAY 1945,

I WASN'T SHAKEN.

I SIMPLY

ACKNOWLEDGED

THE FACTS AND

THE PICTURES I

WAS LOOKING AT.

DON'T KNOW HOW

TO HANDLE IT.

THERE IS THIS

OPENING VERSE

OF A POEM THAT

I KEEP CIRCLING

AROUND AND

I REMEMBER A

TIME WHEN THIS

WAS DIFFERENT.

IN PLACE.

I LIKE THE

PICTURE OF A

LANDSCAPE, ANY

LANDSCAPE, THAT

CAUSES MOTION,

MOVEMENT.

MOTION,

MOVEMENT OF

BODY AND, OF

COURSE, OF MIND

IT DEPENDS

FENCES AROUND

THE DEATH TOLL

I REMEMBER A

COMING BACK TO

ON HOW I AM

NOT ONE OF

THEIR GARDENS.

WAS AROUND 8500

TIME WHEN I

AGAIN AND AGAIN

WANDERING

EMPHASISING IT.

WHAT THEY

PEOPLE.

COULDN'T SHAKE

EVER SINCE I

THROUGH A

THIS IS EBENSEE,

DID LEAVE AS

OFF THE ANGER,

STARTED WRITING

LANDSCAPE AND

LOOKING NORTH

A REMINDER IS

THEY CALLED IT

THE DESPAIR,

YOU THIS LETTER.

WHERE I AM

TOWARDS LAKE

THE ORIGINAL

PROJEKT ZEMENT.

WHILE STANDING

GOING TO.

TRAUNSEE.

ENTRANCE, FOR

IN FRONT OF

IT'S A VERSE

I JUST RECENTLY

EXAMPLE, THAT

I READ ALL OF

A VARIETY OF

BY BRANDON

VISITED THE

TOWN.

NOW SPANS A

SMALL STREET

THE INFORMATION

ABOVE WHILE I

MONUMENTS,

REMEMBRANCE

SHIMODA THAT

I FOUND IN THE

Christoph Szalay, writer, curator, and

commissioner for literature at Forum

Stadtpark Graz.

LETTER FROM BERLIN

REMEMBRANCE

CLUTURE IN

KREMS

Max Czollek

Reinhard Resch

Liebe Hadas,

bei dem Abendessen bei einem

gemeinsamen Freund im

Friedrichshain hattest du mir ja

gesagt, dass du ein paar Polemiken

von mir zugespielt haben möchtest.

Und weil dieser Beitrag für ein

österreichisches Publikum gedacht

ist, fällt mir eine Diskussion ein, die

ich mit Stefan Schmitzer nach der

Montagsbühne in Graz begonnen

habe. Dabei ging es um den letzten

Zyklus aus den Jubeljahren, meinem

zweiten Lyrikband, wo ein lyrisches

Ich auf den Kabbalisten Isaak Luria

trifft, dessen Ursprungsort, Safed, sich

nunmehr in Galizien befindet.

Der Titel des Textes ist auf Hebräisch,

in dem Zyklus wimmelt es von

Referenzen. Schmitzer ging es daher

- wenig überraschend - um zweierlei:

die Frage nach der Exklusivität des

Textes für ein bestimmtes Publikum

und die Frage, ob das Aufgreifen

theologischer Referenzen nicht an

sich problematisch sein könnte.

Keine Ahnung, was genau er mit

letzterem Punkt meinte, vielleicht

ist Schmitzer ja radikaler Atheist,

was ich respektiere, aber irgendwie

ineffektiv finde. Wenn du einen

Gläubigen angreifst, dann musst du es

auf der Ebene des Glaubens tun, sonst

verpufft das Ganze und am Ende

redet man völlig aneinander vorbei.

Zur Frage nach dem Verständnis

und Grenzen des Verstehens ist

für mich seit den Jubeljahren an

unterschiedlichen Stellen immer

wieder aufgetaucht. Denn es ist doch

so: wenn man in Deutschland von

den Juden spricht, dann hören die

Deutschen (Kritiker, Lyriker) immer

nur Auschwitz, Antisemitismus

oder Israel. Es ist nahezu egal, was

ich sage, der normale Jude kommt

aus dem Stetl, ist aus Auschwitz

befreit worden und dann zumindest

teilweise nach Israel ausgewandert.

Ein Jude ohne Familie in Israel? -

undenkbar! Keine gute Geschichte

zum Antisemitismus auf Lager? -

langweilig! Keine Shoahgeschichte?

- Enttäuschtes Murmeln,

Themenwechsel. Der normale Jude ist

der Überlebende.

Da im öffentlichen Feuilleton und

in der Lyrikszene fast nur Deutsche

sprechen, bestimmt das auch die

Position, die ich als Autor öffentlich

einnehmen kann: is halt Judenlyrik,

entweder lieb, oder böse, oder mit

Chuzpe oder Witz. Wenn ich also

öffentlich immer "Judenlyrik" schreibe

no-matter-what, dann muss die

Gegenseite auch sichtbar werden

als das, was sie offensichtlich ist:

Kartoffellyrik. Da wird dann nichts

mehr erklärt, da wird einfach nur

noch geschrieben, fuck Kunstkritik

bzw. wir müssen ganz woanders

anfangen, uns unseren eigenen

Rezeptionsrahmen zu basteln.

(Denn wo wären die Verhandlung

deutsch-jüdischer Identität im

deutschsprachigen Raum heute

diskutierbar oder rezipierbar, ohne

dass sie gleichzeitig im Kontext eines

deutschen Begehrens nach den Juden

stünde?!)

Ein Bekannter von mir wies mal

darauf hin, dass wir, wenn wir als

Referenzrahmen eine Art allgemein

geteiltes Wissen ansetzen, eigentlich

nur Kunst produzieren können, die

für einen 9-Klässler geeignet ist.

Da kommt dann natürlich nichts

Gescheites bei raus. Stattdessen

plädiere ich für die produktive

Überforderung. Denn die Grenzen

des Wissens sind zugleich politische

Grenzen, in denen sich das Verdrängte

ebenso spiegelt wie das, was eine

Gesellschaft für relevant hält. Wenn

meine LeserInnen über das Judentum

nicht mehr wissen, als dass es

vernichtet wurde und schwarze

Hüte trägt, dann ist der Rückgriff

auf jüdische Traditionen zugleich

eine Archäologie, die verschüttete

Perspektiven wieder ausgräbt und

in ihrer Relevanz für die Gegenwart

befragt.

Diese Strategie des Neuansetzens

habe ich im Konzept der

Desintegration zu bündeln versucht.

Der gleichnamige Kongress Anfang

Mai am Gorki Theater Berlin war

einer Umsetzung dieses Konzeptes

gewidmet. Dabei ging es mir

letztendlich um die Erzeugung einer

öffentlichen Diskursposition: Diese

(desintegrierten) Juden sind nicht

mehr verfügbar für ein deutsches

Begehren nach den „Juden“, für die

Konstruktion der eigenen Identität

oder dieses ewige narzistische,

unwürdig geheiligte und hochgradig

clichierte Gerede über die Shoah.

Denn das ganze Gedächtnistheater

läuft doch letztlich auf eins hinaus:

die Normalisierung der deutschjüdischen

Verkeilung. An dieser

Verkeilung ist nun aber nichts

normal. Und wenn es nach mir geht,

wird das auch so bleiben.

Darum Rache als Topos der

Selbstermächtigung (A.H.A.S.V.E.R,

Verlagshaus Berlin 2016), darum

das paranoische Schreiben als

Gegenwartsbewältigung der

deutschen Sprache (ebd.) oder eben

die Erkundung der jüd. Theologie

/ Theodizee als Ressource und

Mittel der Differenzerzeugung.

Alles lyrische Modi, Versuche „auf

einem untergehenden Schiff aus

der eigenen Haut zu entkommen“

(Brasch). Für den eingangs erwähnten

Zyklus zu Isaak Luria könnte man

Gershom Sholems Überlegungen

zur Lurianischen Kabbalah lesen

und ihre historische Einbettung in

die Exilerfahrung. Das Konzept der

ZimZum als freiwilliges Exil Gottes,

was darauf hinauslaufen könnte, dass

wir zwar nicht Schuld haben am

Zustand der Welt, wohl aber, wenn

sie einfach so bleibt. Das mag nahezu

kitschig klingen, historisch ist es aber

zugleich eine katastrophale Aussage,

da sie den Opfern eine partielle

Verantwortung zuweist an ihrer

eigenen Verfolgung. Hätten sie eben

mehr und härter beten sollen.

Bestimmte Dinge liegen außerhalb

der eigenen Einflussnahme. In der

Gegenwart ist die Normalität ist eines

dieser Konzepte, von denen wir uns

dringend verabschieden sollten. Jude

zu sein bedeutet, Unruhe zu stiften.

Ich glaube, darauf sollten wir stolz

sein!

Mit herzlichen Grüßen aus Berlin,

Max

Max Czollek is a German poet, member

of the G13 collective of authors, and

curator of Babelsprech International

Reinhard Resch,

Mayor of the city of Krems.

Why is it important to recondition

this dark chapter of our city’s history?

Because we should never forget.

Shakespeare once called memories the

„Guardians of the Brain“ and this is

why remembrance is so important. We

need to stay vigilant to avoid such

repetition of processes.

After the war, there was a lot of

suppression and fading out. But as

time came, events came back to light

and people started to engage in

processing the past.

In the last years Krems developed a

commemorative culture, starting from

written thesis by students, annual

memorial services or books about

Krems between 1934 and 1945.

As Primo Levi, a surviver of Auschwitz

said: „It happened, and therefore it

can happen again. There lies the core

of what we have to say.


7

NORMALISATION

FROM THE

PERSPECTIVE

OF THE THIRD

POST-WAR

GENERATION

The case of Poland

Jagoda Budzik

G

eneration - a term that

inherently refers to elapsed

time: seems to also provide an

opportunity to look inside the internal

dynamics of the normalisation

processes and the attempts to disrupt

them. However, before we use the

phrase “third generation” more

generally, to refer not only to Israel or

Germany, but also to other countries,

particularly to Poland, it seems essential

to pose the question about the very

possibility of speaking about “Polish

third generation” and the reasons why

such a term hardly exists in Polish

memory discourse, contrary to Israel

and Germany.

This intriguing fact may serve as a good

starting point for a reflection on how

Polish society in the post-war decades

was dealing, or rather was avoiding

having to deal with its past, and how

- with time - the repressed facts started

to come to the surface, breaking

society’s efforts to maintain the state of

normalisation. The latter process can be

traced in various works created by a

younger generation of artists. Moreover,

it is worth emphasising the fact that

they very often pick the genres and use

motifs formerly not connected to the

topic of the memory of the Second

World War, the Holocaust, and

Polish-Jewish relations. The examples I

am going to present here are only a

small part of the huge post-war

memory boom that began to occur in

Polish contemporary art and culture as

early as the 1990s, but - for reasons I

will discuss later on - became

particularly noticeable in the 2000s.

Polish spaces, from which traces of war

history have been erased, in

contemporary works are often shown to

be haunted by the past. Having thus far

been treated as inviolate, they began to

reveal what Martin Pollack calls their

actual “contamination”, arguing that

landscapes of such countries as Austria,

Slovenia, Romania, Ukraine, Czech

Republic, and - above all - Poland will

forever remain marked by the events of

the Second World War. The motif of

contamination of Polish soil with war

crimes in general, and the Shoah in

particular, has become discernible in the

works of artists belonging to the third

generation. It is entangled, however, with

some significant issues that demand to be

mentioned here.

First of them is the fact of Poland’s

exclusion from the contemporary

reconciliation process, which has been

described by Karolina Przewrocka in her

widely commented-on essay published in

the Israeli daily newspaper Haaretz. I am

not going to analyse the whole article,

where the author discusses extensively

both the reasons and the consequences of

this lack of Polish voice in Israeli-German

memory discourse. Instead, I would like

to focus on just one fragment where

Przewrocka defines in precise terms one

of the main problems of Polish memory:

The Jewish cemeteries scattered

throughout Poland, together with the

remains of the death camps, ghettos and

synagogues, are with us every day. We

wake up to them in the morning, pass

them on our way to work and go to sleep

at night in cities whose names evoke fear

in Israelis, including Oswiecim, Lodz and

Kielce.

She adds:

When Israeli Jews visit Poland’s Holocaust

sites, they return to Israel with a sense of

relief. We, in contrast, must find a way to

continue to live alongside these places,

unable to exorcise this dybbuk.

The situation of struggle with the past

Przewrocka describes

is, however, quite a

new phenomenon. In

the first post-war

decades, what prevailed

in Poland was the

atmosphere of silence

and repression of the

traumatic event’s

memory. The rising

consciousness of this

situation started to

appear more frequently

in art and in literature

only at the end of the

twentieth century.

Nevertheless, the most

meaningful turning

point in that process of

breaking the

normalisation of the

spaces came in 2000,

together with

publication of Sąsiedzi

(“The Neighbours”), a

book written by the

Polish sociologist and

historian Jan Tomasz

Gross, in which he

describes the history of

one of the pogroms on

Jewish inhabitants of

the town Jedwabne,

planned and carried

out by their Polish

neighbours. Although

the crime has been

already depicted in a

magnificent

documentary movie …

Where My Elder Son Kain (1999),

directed by Agnieszka Arnold

(who in 2001 also released a second

documentary on the pogrom, entitled

Sąsiedzi, from which the book in fact

borrowed its title), the film did not get

much attention, and it was the Gross

essay that dramatically changed the

shape of the discourse on Polish-Jewish

relations in Poland.

The debate launched by this

publication constituted a precedent in

the history of Polish afterwar narrative

of Polish-Jewish relations, and cracked

the façade of silence which had been

kept up for decades with regard to

Polish attitudes towards the Jews

before, during, and after the Second

World War. The book not only

revealed the truth about what has been

the most strongly repressed thread of

this story, namely, Polish complicity in

murders committed on the Jews, but

also allowed to highlight the question

of Jewish absence, its reasons and

consequences - both in the public

debate and in art or literature,

particularly in works of young artists

belonging mostly to the third postwar

generation.

The persistent lack of former Jewish

citizens of Poland and the places they

used to live in seems to be one the

central motifs in works that have been

created in recent years and might be

perceived as connected to the third

generation’s experience. The first work I

would like to discuss is Yael Bartana’s

project And Europe will be stunned

from 2009. The work consists of three

parts and presents a vision of a Jewish

Renaissance Movement in Poland that

calls three milions Jews to come back.

Although the motif of the void left

after the murder of over three milions

of Polish Jews is present in all parts, it is

the first section, entitled “Mary

koszmary” (“Nightmares”), that

presents it in the most apparent way.

In the first part of the trilogy, Sławomir

Sierakowski, leader of “Krytyka

Polityczna”, stands in the empty

Decennial Stadium in Warsaw and calls

the Jews to come back to their country.

In his charismatic speech, which on the

one hand may be likened to

propaganda films from the Third Reich

(particularly Leni Riefenstahl’s Triumph

of the Will), but on the other hand, is

set in a space that is highly charged

with symbolic meaning, Sierakowski

urges:

Jews! Fellow Countrymen! People!

Peeeople! You think the old woman

who still sleeps under Ryfke’s quilt

doesn’t want to see you? That she forgot

about you? You are wrong! She dreams

about you every night. Dreams and

POLISH SOCIETY IN THE

POST-WAR DECADES WAS

DEALING, OR RATHER WAS

AVOIDING HAVING TO DEAL

WITH ITS PAST, AND HOW -

WITH TIME - THE REPRESSED

FACTS STARTED TO COME

TO THE SURFACE, BREAKING

THE SOCIETY’S EFFORTS TO

TO MAINTAIN THE STATE OF

NORMALISATION.

trembles with fear. Since the night you

were gone and her mother reached your

quilt, she has had nightmares. Bad

dreams. Only you can chase them away.

Let the three million Jews that Poland

has missed stand by her bed and finally

chase away the demons. Return to

Poland, to your country! (...).

This potential situation of Jews

returning to Poland has in fact more

than just one possible interpretation.

The mechanism whereby the repressed

return leads in two directions. On the

one hand, it illustrates how deeply

rooted the normative Polish silence

about the former Jewish neighbours is;

on the other hand, it refers to the issue

of Jewish settlement in former

Palestine, which has often been

described in terms of “coming back to

the historical homeland”. Seen from

the Polish perspective, hovewer,

Bartana’s work not only refers to the

fact that memory of three and a half

million Jews who lived in Poland before

the war has been repressed from

collective consciousness, but also points

towards the dread the Poles are filled

with owing to the recollection of

property grabbed from their Jewish

neighbours, or the remembrance of

many Polish crimes committed during

the Shoah. Therefore, the void left after

the genocide of Jewish inhabitants

gains more specific

form.

A significant shift

occurred, therefore, at

the time when the

representatives of the

third postwar

generation took the

floor: the motif of

Jewish absence and a

thread of an active role

played by Poles in the

process of forgetting

have entered the

cultural mainstream.

The consequences of

these phenomena have

also gradually started

to be more visible in

Polish texts from the

field of popular

culture, whose authors

try to deal with the

issue of Polish history.

The subject of

forgotten Jewish

victims of the Second

World War appears,

for example, in two

Polish movies that

reached the wider

public: Pokłosie

(“Aftermath”) by

Władysław Pasikowski

and Demon by Marcin

Wrona. Both of them

- although in different

ways - present the

outcome of post-war

silence concealing the

traces left after the Holocaust victims.

Both films, similar because they adopt

the form of popular thrillers, show that

what preserves the memory repressed

by the Polish people is precisely the

space. In each case, the protagonist

familiarises himself with the

surroundings and suddenly discovers

the truth about what happened before

and during the war, only to learn that

the inhabitants are still very eager to

keep their dark secrets. In both cases,

the attempt at normalisation fails at

some point, for the long-hidden facts

come to light. However, it offers

neither a sense of catharsis, nor an

opportunity to settle with the past, for

it remains unreachable owing to Polish

reluctance to do so as well as still-vivid

anti-Semitism, which is underlined in

both movies in a very critical way.

Another, and probably one of the most

literal and radical uses of the motif of

such a comeback of the past, comes

from the field of literature. In Noc

żywych Żydów (“The Night of the

Living Jews”), Igor Ostachowicz tells

the story of Jewish zombies rising from

the basements of Warsaw. In his rather

lowbrow novel, the zombies become an

obvious pop-cultural symbol of

unwanted memory. Although it follows

the pattern of a popular novel, Noc

żywych Żydów in fact reflects the

Polish struggle for normalisation and

eagerness to repress the memory of

what happened in spaces of

contemporary everyday life (one of the

novel’s most important locales is

“Arkadia”, an enormously large

shopping centre built on the premises

of the former Warsaw ghetto), at the

same time becoming a testament of

their failure. However, Ostachowicz’s

novel is also unable to offer a sense of

catharsis. It is rather a report on Polish

unreadiness for a confrontation with

the memory of the Jews who used to

inhabit the same well-known places we

live in today.

From this perspective, the general

experience of the Polish third

generation is strongly connected to

space, which on the one hand remains

a place where the European Jewry was

exterminated, and on the other hand is

the space of today’s Polish life. At the

same time, after many years of silence,

members of the third generation are

those who experience - probably most

strongly - the return of the repressed,

return of the forgotten Jewish history.

The central role in this process is played

by places which over the decades have

been strenuously adjusted to avoid any

kind of suffering as a result of a guilty

conscience or traumatic memories. For

some time, however, the ghosts of the

past have haunted them, showing that

Polish society - even though it is still

reluctant - will eventually be forced to

face its fears and confront the past.

Jagoda Budzik is a doctoral student at the

Faculty of Polish and Classical Philology

at Adam Mickiewicz University in

Poznań. She has degrees in Hebrew

Studies and Theatre Studies from the same

university. Her research interests focus on

issues of collective memory, Israeli

literature, theatre and visual arts in the

light of the Holocaust discourse. Her work

combines elements drawn from three

major disciplines: literature, memory

studies and cultural studies.


I

t wasn't exactly Qalandiya

checkpoint. We used to stand

there on the wall of the airport, like,

as support for the guys securing the

airport. There were disturbances and

we fired, what do you call it? …

Rubber. Rubber bullets and stun

grenades, and all day long we played

tag with the kids who were throwing

stones.

THIS STORY

WAS TAKEN FROM

A TESTIMONY

OF AN ISRAELI

SOLIDER

We put up booby traps.Yeah, Booby

traps. Let me tell you something a

little funny:

We put an ammo case with a stun

grenade inside, loosened the safety

and put pudding on top, Danny

pudding that we'd lifted from the

kitchen. Then the kids came, looked

at the pudding, and the moment they

lifted it the safety opened and the

pudding exploded in their faces. This

was one thing.

I'll give you another example:

There was this sofa standing in the

centre, and they kept moving it

around all day long. It was the regular

place where they would throw stones

from, and we got fed up with the fact

that they were using that sofa. So we

booby trapped the sofa with a stun

grenade, for instance. It was me and

the company commander, who by the

way was hurt while doing it, the shock

grenade exploded in his face . . . Such

things. Those were the days.

This story was taken from testimony

of an Israeli soldier from the archive

of the human rights organisation

"Breaking the Silence".

Dafna Staretz is a nomadic artist born

in an Israeli kibbutz; currently living

and working in Bergen, Norway. She

creates fragmentary watercolour

assemblages, which depict stories of

liquid modernity.

COMFERTBLE SOFA

Dafna Staretz

Comfortable Sofa, painting by Dafna Staretz

THE

IMPORTANCE

OF ART

PROJECTS

FOR THE

AWARENESS

OF HISTORY

Angeliki Douveri

This, though, can be

1

understandable on the

part of the people that experienced the

trauma and its aftermath, but what

about the historians? There is actually a

History Department at the otherwise

renowned University of Crete in

Rethymno, where we found out - owing

to the project research - that they focus

on all sorts of other eras than the recent

one! We were finally directed towards

two PhD alumni who have researched

WWII on the island and were the only

ones that seem to have done so. Why is

there not permanent research dedicated

to recent history? Does the funding

system justify this by itself?

OR DOES THE TRAUMA

OF THE PEOPLE

BECOME A TABOO FOR

THE FACULTY?

Art can soothe and heal

The questions may go on, and I am far

from being an expert on issues of history.

As a civilian, though, I was amazed and

disappointed that we look away from

what happened to our parents and

grandparents. At the same time as an

artist, I found it extremenly useful to

have art as a vehicle to approach the

people and such delicate matters. Time is

precious as a vast amount of historical

information is dying along with the

people who witnessed the events.

It has done so for sickness, both physical

and mental. Let us support such

practices on history issues as well and use

it as a tool for raising awareness and

understanding, of bridging and building

peace. It is not redundant, it is an urgent

matter.

Angeliki Douveri is an artist and an

ArtAmari founder.

A BATTERED

CHICKEN IN

FINE BAROQUE

SURROUNDINGS

Does a picture really say more

than thousand words?

Robert Streibel

Translation: Nigel A. James

F

or very many years, the historian

had been writing a history based

on a postcard. A town decorated with

flags. Who had the longest, and who

had nothing - improvisation. The red

Wachau sky, the wind lightly touching

the girls' aprons, and the swastika. A

sea of flags. Only one appearing out of

place. One with runes. Someone had

wanted to be more. The SS beside the

town's landmark, as if it had nothing to

say. An outlaw not interested in death.

Not in 1938. A rumour becomes

history and a photo says more than

1000 words. The greased head. The

parting combed straight. The Hitler

moustache. A double

- like so many at the

time. Alles Klar, Herr

Kommissar? Enough

for a judgement. A

complete picture. A

gut feeling. That's how

it was with this type of

complete work of art.

The intellect - hard

done by.

And that's how the

story came to be, and

that's how the

historian presented it.

The house decorated

with flags was an inn,

the Arkadenhof. But

the flags were no

reason to boycott it.

The historian was in

no way so inflexible.

Why not a beer in the Arkadenhof;

why not celebrate end of school exams

there, why not escape from the hot

summer heat there? Why not? Even

though Hitler took the train, we still

use it. Only very few listen to

Lohengrin, but being punctual does not

make one a Mussolini fan.

Everything was fine and would have

continued to be so if it hadn't been for

the phone call that had come from the

monastery. The monastery, which was

on a hill and clearly visible, had been

dispossessed

to the advantage of the town. Not the

empire, the town had been victorious.

Out of pure pleasure and joy, many had

given one or two priests a slight box

around the ears. And, it wasn't only

the mayor who had revelled in the

newly acquired furniture, antiques,

Baroque with silk coverings, and gold.

It was also to be a pleasure for the next

1000 years. The furniture warehouse of

the monastery became a training centre

for civil servants and the Hitler Youth,

and also a stopover for refugees and the

NAPOLA.

It was during this time that the grating

that had separated the secular from the

divine since the Baroque time at the

convent was taken down and removed.

If desks had been spirited across the

Danube, then why not this as well?

The grating then became the splendour

of the inn - near the town's landmark.

Surely, that was no coincidence. The

grating was the perfect match for the

complete art work, just like the Hitler

moustache and the runes.

The search for the desks, chairs, picture

frames and works of art began at the

premature end of the 1000-year empire.

All that was recovered found its way

home once again. Only the stolen

stamp collection was never seen again.

And the grating stayed where it was.

There where it brought joy. Baroque in

a Baroque room in the inn.

And then someone came who couldn't

remember but had been told of the

rumour concerning the grating. Times

were different then, and what was then

stolen was now only borrowed. And, in

any case, who wants to ask awkward

questions. The rumour remained, and

the photos led to discussions between

the historian and the priest. Together

they went to

the inn, the

Baroque

room. Why

no battered

chicken in

the Baroque

room? And

didn't the

rumour

deserve a

simple

question?

Where had

the grating

come from?

A Hitler

moustache, a

rune, and a

grating in

exile. These

sit nicely in a

town whose

mayor rose

like a

phoenix from secretary in the Nazi

times to mayor in the late 1950s. What

is all this compared to long forgotten

grating?

The answer was served for dessert after

the battered chicken. It came as

quickly as the loganberry schnaps. No!

The owner of the inn had nothing to

do with Hitler. The owner of the inn

had simply loved art, and his son had

fallen at the front. I'm very attached to

the grating, but make me an offer. The

winter came,

then a new

spring, the

colours as

fresh as the

Baroque was

light, and

once again it

was battered

chicken

time. And

once again

the same old

question.

Enquiries at

the antique

dealer

- where had

the grating

supposedly

been

purchased

- had

resulted in

an offer of

between

1,500 and 2.000 Euro. That's how far

the monastery was prepared to go.

The answer was a memorial to Baroque,

not genuine, but composed of different

pieces. What happened in 1938, and

what was 1945, and what was invented

like so many vaults of thinking? How

Family Wasservogel owned an electrical

store - seen on the right sight of this

postcard. They wrote this postcard to

their friends, family Rephan, who left

Krems 1932 for Palestine. The notice

written mentions somebody who wished

to buy the shop. Significant is the notice:

In reality, there are 10 more flags in the

street than are shown in this photo.

Archiv Robert Streibel

can anyone know?

The master of the house was no pure

Aryan. And when the Nazis came into

the country, the SS was quartered

here, and just because he was not a

friend he had to hide. Then, as a

woman, he went disguised among the

SS. Later, he grew a beard. And so,

with a Hitler moustache and the

straightly combed parting, he got

through. His brother had to emigrate

to America, but he stayed and lost

neither his life nor the hotel. But he

lost a son in Italy. Somehow, the

grate had arrived. Was it bought, or

was it a miracle? It was there and

should remain. But if the hotel were

to be closed and sold, the grate would

be taken back to its place on the

mountain, and once again separate

the Convent from the public. It

would go back in its place. In twenty

years; in thirty perhaps. Such a

surprise had never been on the menu

in this inn.

But what does it matter? The

monastery has been sitting on the top

of the hill for the last 931 years. 30

years is a short space of time. A short

interregnum.

But who now will write a new story

about the SS flag, the Hitler

moustache, and the grid? The picture

will not be right anymore. “Nichts ist

klar, Herr Kommissar”. And a picture

says only as much as you know. Only

the battered chicken is eternal.


9

T

he plastic skin of the mask is red.

It has a big bulbous nose like the

symptoms long term alcoholics suffer

from. Black frizzy hair. Horns sprout

from its forehead. Yellow rotting teeth.

IT’S KARNEVAL

IN UPPER AUSTRIA.

Party-time: She is undecided. Should

she dress up as a pirate or sailor moon.

She is wearing a sailor skirt already.

The chest of costumes is empty. Its

contents strewn all over the living room

floor.

Her boyfriend Boris —although they

are too shy to call themselves a

couple— sits on the sofa. He is

already dressed up as his dream

vocation: a philosopher. He wears a

black turtle neck and beret set askew.

He practices looking pensive.

A crush and curiosity are the reason

she finds herself here, in provincial,

rural Austria. In search of her roots,

perhaps subconsciously in search of

understanding her father’s hometown.

Her father never talks about his past.

She puts on the Krampus mask.

Boris looks her up and down.

“You look like a Jew”, he says out of

nowhere

and laughs.

She does not laugh, panic sets in.

A feeling of estrangement sets in.

A feeling, she has never felt like this

and she is well-traveled.

Admittedly, his choice of word is not

directly directed against her.

Maybe the comment resonates so

strongly after the experience earlier

that afternoon. Over coffee and cake,

Boris’ nice aunt proudly proclaimed

that her first born son wanted to

dress up as a basketball player for

carnival. She had spent all day,

combing different stores, trying to

find just the right color of tanning

lotion.

In general, Max Frisch applies: if you

are made a Jew in Andorra, it does

not matter if you actually are one.

You are one.

When are you really something?

She was always jealous of people who

knew exactly where they stood on the

ground.

Which passport or which hood

formulated their being. They could

celebrate their homeland with food,

drink, costumes and dialects. Maybe

that is why she kept falling in love with

country boys, because she could widen

their horizons and she could dig in the

soil.

It is a little bit embarrassing that a lot

of her Jewish identity formulated itself

based on negative encounters with men.

Out of these interpersonal frictions it

even became necessary to take a

position. Nowadays everybody wants to

hear stories of empowerment, no sob

stories of victimisation. The Bat

Mitzwahs of her New Yorker cousins,

the worries of her mother and the

history of her grandfather - how he

survived in Austria: hidden and

hustling on the black market with his

Romanian passport - were the family

story, not yet her own definition of self.

After the first innocent and ignorant

caresses, her first boyfriend had said:

“It’s true. Jewish girls give good blow

jobs.” Sometimes he would joke: “I love

your ‘big nose’.” He really meant no

harm, but it was pretty big downer in

the bedroom. Apparently, it left a

wound.

Once, in a Viennese hipster joint, a

German dude took her aside. There

where a flirty vibe. They talked about

where they were from. She said she was

originally from the States. He reached

into her hair, picked out a curl. The

gesture was strange. He purred, “You

are a Jew, right?”. His Jew-radar

suddenly made his blond hair seem

blonder and his eyes seem very blue.

But at the time, she really did not know

who she was. She was raised without

denomination. That was freedom. She

was raised in the strict belief that the

Christmas tree was the “Hanukkah

#KRAMPUS

Definition: The Krampus is a

horned folklore figure described

as "half-goat, half-demon”.

During the Christmas season,

he punishes and whips naughty

children.

Text & Illustration: Nina Prader

bush”. Once, for Chrismukkah, the

family had miso soup and a pine tree

decorated with david stars. Those in

between spaces were here truth.

Her reaction in these liminal zones in

Vienna made her involuntarily feel

unsafe in her environments. Her

existence felt at risk and her trust

towards somebody whom she actually

wanted to love became shaky.

Somebody that she was trying to

understand, could not understand her,

because he did not have the language to

understand her being. Maybe he even

unconsciously denounced a part of her.

And, his ancestors hat persecuted her

ancestors!

Maybe she was also just paranoid. A

subliminal dowry her Jewish mother

- also non-denominational - had

gifted her with. Here, the World War

II filter was strongly in place, that is:

if you had lived during those times

what would you have done? Even if

you are not a Halachic Jew, even as a

quarter of a Jew, you would qualify to

be sent to a concentration camp. So,

be careful, brown waters run deep in

the present. You only carefully tell

those closest to you that you are

Jewish, all others could be Gestapoequivalents

of today and could still

denounce you!

When her grandfather died, her

identity gained visibility in her circle

of friends for the first time because

she immediately had to go to the

Jewish cemetery: TOR 4. She

encountered a further estrangement.

A friend said, when she saw his

photo: Your grandfather had a big

nose, was he a Jew? Numbly, she said,

“Yes”.

The question is: Is this anti-Semitism

if it is true? If it is not true? Is it also

anti-Semitism? Is it forgivable? Are

there shades of grey? With which verbal

tools can one combat this? The answer

is, there is a spectrum of unmindful

language, ignorance, curiosity and

xenophobia. In general, it is strange to

jump to conclusions, based on

appearances, let alone use it as a

pick-up line.

In Salzburg a man said to her: “You

must surely be a Jew, your features are

so asymmetrical.” Indignantly, she

made him aware of the anti-Semitic

nature of his comment. He said, “ I

worked in a Kibbutz, I am aloud to say

stuff like that. I always fall for Jewish

girls because they are so smart.” She left

the conversation.

Admitting to being a Jew is not

conducive to fostering understanding.

What that means generally or

personally is not enough. It is definitely

not enough to humiliate or change an

anti-Semite. You have to work with

subtlety or wordplay.

In upper Austria, she forgave Boris

because he was so beautiful and she was

so shallow.

But honestly, it was a conscious blind

eye. Boris never understood the hurt.

“Anti-Semitism” is not the right word.

These people are not against “the Jews”,

some have a fetish for the Jewesses. At

the core, they are just careless.

Once tipsy, a friend accompanied her

home, he asked: “Do you live in the

second district because you are a Jew?”

Confused about the logic, she said:

“No.”

But the best place to live in Vienna is

the second district. She thinks about it

as her hood now. She pretends now that

Vienna has the melting pot character of

America because she does not want to

hide from her family history. She says: I

am a Jew because she has an

unquenchable Wanderlust, doubting is

a competitive sport for her and like her

grandfather, she tries to practice

courage every day.

Nina Prader is a text and image artist

and arts and culture writer based in

Vienna and Berlin. She works with zines,

artist books and most recently a radio

show called “Paper&Tape" on printed

matters.


G E D A N K E N

Ü B E R D A S

S C H W E I G E N

V O N

O R T E N ,

D I E

einseitige Hinwendung zum

Holocaust, zur nationalsozialistischen

Vernichtungsmaschinerie und ihren

zahllosen Opfern, nicht wiederum den

Blick verstellt auf das Leben der

Menschen und ihrer Kultur, also zu

einer zweiten Auslöschung führen

kann.

Die großen Gedenkstätten sind keine

Orte des Schweigens, des

Verschweigens und keine Leerstellen

per se, auch wenn vieles was Menschen

an diesen Orten geschah für immer im

Dunkeln bleiben muss.

Es sind symbolisch aufgeladene Orte,

Orte, die das staatlich verordnete

völlige Außerkraftsetzen von jeglichen

moralischen Schranken, wie es z.B.

und in gnadenloser Konsequenz im

Nationalsozialistischen Staat geschah,

symbolisieren. Orte, an denen der

Opfer gedacht wird, wie unvermögend

auch immer. In ihrem fast

unvorstellbaren Grauen stehen sie aber

nur für einen Endpunkt in der

Entwicklung dieser totalitären

Diktatur, deren gewalttätige Anfänge

ganz klein in Form von alltäglichen

Ausgrenzungen begannen. An

unzähligen Orten, die von sich aus

nichts erzählen, wurde Unrecht zu

Recht gebogen, wurde Menschen

Gewalt angetan, mussten Menschen,

immer die „Anderen“, leiden und

sterben. Und das nicht nur in dieser

Zeit, mit der wir uns hier

beschäftigen.

Ö

sterreich ist schön. Krems ist

schön. Die Umgebung von

Krems ist schön...* Schon als ich das

erste Mal nach Krems kam, ich glaube

es war mit Verwandten aus

Niederösterreich in den frühen 1970er

Jahren, und auch später dann, von

Wien aus, war ich immer wieder

begeistert von der Schönheit der Stadt,

der historischen Architektur, der

schönen Lage als Tor zur Wachau, dem

Blick auf das mächtige Stift Göttweig,

die Donau, die umgebenden

Weinberge. Die Menschen waren

freundlich, ich kam immer gerne

hierher. Das hat sich nicht geändert,

seitdem ich täglich von Wien nach

Krems fahre um als Kurator in der

Kunsthalle Krems zu arbeiten. Die

Kunsthalle, die unlängst frisch

renoviert wiedereröffnet wurde, ist

seit über 20 Jahren ein Ort für die

Auseinandersetzung mit

zeitgenössischer Kunst. Das Gebäude,

eine alte Tabakmanufaktur aus dem

Jahr 1852, in den 1990er Jahren von

Adolf Krischanitz umgebaut,

verströmt auch heute noch den

Charme von Industriegebäuden des

19. Jahrhunderts. Ein Ort also der

Kunst und der Schönheit? Lässt man

einmal die sicher unwürdigen

E I N M A L

T A T O R T E

W A R E N

Festhalten, Erinnern, Mahnen, Bezeichnen, Reden?

Andreas Hoffer

Arbeitsbedingungen in einer

Manufaktur des 19. Jahrhunderts

außer Acht, bleibt die Verstrickung des

Ortes und seiner handelnden Personen

mit und in der Zeit des

Nationalsozialismus. Wie viele andere

Orte in Krems (und natürlich nicht

nur hier!) waren auch die Tabakfabrik

und jetzige Kunsthalle und andere

Orte der Kunstmeile in der Zeit des 2.

Weltkrieges Orte, die nicht unbelastet

sind, seitdem hier auch

Zwangsarbeiter/innen arbeiten

mussten - diesen Teil ihrer Geschichte

geben die Gebäude allerdings nicht

preis. Laut mündlicher Information

von Zeitzeugeninterviews, die der

Historiker Robert Streibel geführt hat,

haben in der ehemaligen Tabakfabrik,

als dort gegen Ende des 2. Weltkrieges

Maschinenteile gebaut wurden,

sogenannte Fremdarbeiter gearbeitet.

Außerdem war auf dem Gelände der

ehemaligen Teppichfabrik Eybl, wo

sich jetzt die Studios der Artist in

Residence Künstler/innen, das

Literaturhaus, das Atelier der

Kunstmeile und andere kulturelle

Einrichtungen befinden, ein

Zwangsarbeiterlager mit einer

Wiederverwendungsproduktion von

Patronenhülsen.

Als Deutscher der frühen

Nachkriegsgeneration bin ich es ja

eigentlich gewohnt dem trügerischen

Glanz der Schönheit oder Normalität

von Orten zu misstrauen, zu sehr sind

sie spätestens seit der Zeit von 1933

bis 1945, der Zeit des

Nationalsozialismus, ihrer

vordergründigen Unschuld beraubt. In

meiner Schul- und Studienzeit war ich

ständig mit der jüngsten deutschen

Geschichte und ihren Folgen

konfrontiert. Ich sah in der nahen

norddeutschen Umgebung einige

Gelände, manchmal eine Weide oder

Blumenwiese, manchmal als

Bundeswehr Kaserne oder

Firmengelände genutzt, die vor 1945

kleine Außenlager von sogenannten

Konzentrationslagern, oder

Zwangsarbeiterlager waren.

Wenn wir so etwas erfuhren, dann

war ich fassungslos und schockiert

und empört, dass diese Orte -

insbesondere erinnere ich mich an ein

ehemaliges Arbeitslager, dass von der

Bundeswehr genutzt wurde - so

normal waren, wie jeder andere Ort

auch. Nichts wies auf die Gewalt und

den Schrecken hin, die hier einmal

geherrscht hatten, es waren

schweigende Orte. Dass hier Tatorte

waren, dass dort Unrecht geschah - es

war nicht zu erkennen. Die

jugendliche Empörung darüber hatte

natürlich in der Rückschau auch etwas

Pubertäres und war wohl auch von

Selbstgerechtigkeit bestimmt, aber das

war meine erste persönliche Erfahrung

mit dem Verschweigen. Aus der

jugendlichen Empörung wuchs

immerhin Interesse, Neugier: Was war

da noch? Welcher Idylle kann ich

noch trauen und wie war es mit den

eigenen Eltern, Verwandten,

Nachbarn? Da blieben viele Fragen

offen, oft auch ungefragt.

Es folgten fast manisch Besuche von

Gedenkstätten, zum Beispiel

ehemaligen Konzentrationslagern,

sowie das fast gierige Verschlingen von

kritischer Literatur zur Zeit des

Nationalsozialismus, von Biografien,

der Auseinandersetzung mit der

jüdischen Religion. In der Rückschau

hatte auch diese Phase meiner Jugend

etwas sehr Deutsches, Gründliches,

eigentümlich Fokussiertes an sich -

vielleicht ein mögliches, typisches

Verhalten als Sohn von Tätern und

Mitläufern?

Die Besuche von ehemaligen Lagern,

Vernichtungslagern, Gedenkstätten

haben bei mir neben dem Schrecken,

dem Grauen und nächtlichen

Albträumen oft auch eine gewisse

Ratlosigkeit erzeugt - auch angesichts

von Menschenmassen, die dorthin

fuhren und irgendwie fast wie bei

einer Touristenattraktion

„durchgeschleust“ wurden. Daraus

entwickelten sich später, als ich schon

Kulturvermittler in Wien war, ganz

grundsätzliche Fragen des Vermittelns.

Wie geht man wirklich mit einem

solchen Tatort um? Welche Form und

welchen Inhalt gibt man einer

sogenannten Gedenkstätte - mahnend,

pathetisch, analysierend, informativ?

Wer spricht dort? Aus welcher

Perspektive wird erzählt? Will man

emotionale Reaktionen oder soll eher

kognitiv vermittelt werden? Was kann

so ein Gedenkort leisten? Was

bewirken Texte, Fotos, Filme bei den

Besucher/innen? Was erreicht einen

Menschen wirklich? Was könnte dazu

führen das eigene Denken und

Handeln vielleicht zu beeinflussen,

selber weiter Fragen zu stellen abseits

von kurzfristiger Erschütterung. Es

gibt dazu ja viele divergierenden

Theorien, bis hin zur Frage, ob die

Wie tiefgreifend eine Diktatur in der

Lage ist, in das Leben einzugreifen,

Moral außer Kraft zu setzen, Gewalt

zu forcieren und damit alle Bereiche

des persönlichen Lebens verformt und

darin eingreift, wird nur deutlich,

wenn man erfährt, wie alltäglich und

„normal“ Terror gegen die „Anderen“

in einer Diktatur wird. Und das genau

dort, wo man lebt oder arbeitet, an

diesen Orten des normalen

alltäglichen Lebens heute, wo Terror,

Gewalt und unwürdiges Leben einmal

alltäglich waren.

Dass wir uns dessen bewusst werden

und nicht der „endlosen

Unschuldigkeit“, wie Elfriede Jelinek

es genannt hat, anheimfallen, dafür ist

es notwendig, dass es Menschen gibt

wie die Künstlerin Hadas Tapouchi,

die in Zentraleuropa Orte

recherchiert, an denen im Zweiten

Weltkrieg Zwangsarbeiter arbeiten

mussten und diese heute „normalen“

Orte fotografiert und kartographiert,

um auf sie aufmerksam zu machen.

Als Gastkünstlerin bei AIR - Artist in

Residence in Krems hat sie dieses

Projekt vor Ort weitergeführt. Der

Historiker Robert Streibel, der schon

viele Jahre über die Zeit des

Nationalsozialismus in Österreich und

speziell auch in Krems forscht und

gegen das Verschweigen arbeitet hat

die Künstlerin, dabei sehr unterstützt

und viele Informationen zu belasteten

Orten in Krems und Umgebung

gegeben. Diese heute von alltäglicher

Normalität geprägten Orte hat

Tapouchi fotografiert. So kann uns

Geschichte verdammt nah kommen,

die Schichten unter der Normalität,

der Idylle können zum Vorschein

kommen. Dazu bedarf es vielleicht

keiner Gedenkstätte, keiner Plakette

oder keines Stolpersteins. Sehr wohl

aber kann durch solche Projekte das

Bewusstsein für unsere Geschichte

geschärft werden und die Bereitschaft,

darüber nachzudenken und zu reden.

Denn mehr noch durch das Sprechen

als durch das Schreiben kann

Geschichte, können Menschen und

ihre Schicksale lebendig bleiben, das

Schweigen der Orte gebrochen

werden.

So scheint es auch gut, dass wir uns

dessen bewusst sind, dass die

Kunstmeile Krems, dieser wunderbare

Ort, wo Kunst vielfältig erlebbar wird,

in seiner Geschichte auch ein Ort war,

an dem Zwangsarbeit geleistet werden

musste.

Andreas Hoffer ist Kurator in der

Kunsthalle Krems und von AIR - Artist

in Residence. Hoffer, in Deutschland

geboren, lebt seit 1989 in Wien und

arbeitet dort als Kurator und

Kulturvermittler.


11

D

er Turnertempel stand Ecke

Turnergasse / Dingelstedtgasse

im 15. Bezirk und wurde nach der

Synagoge in der Seitenstättengasse und

dem Leopoldstädter Tempel als dritte

Synagoge Wiens erbaut. Er wurde in

der Nacht vom 9. auf den 10.

November 1938, in der

„Reichskristallnacht“, völlig zerstört

und niedergebrannt. Ein wertvolles

Kulturgut, ein religiöser Ort wurde

ausgelöscht, während Passanten und

Nachbarn einfach zusahen und auch

die Feuerwehr in den Brand nicht

eingriff.

„Unser Gotteshaus gilt denn auch als

eines der gediegensten Tempelgebäude

der Monarchie“ (Leopold Stern, 1892).

Bereits 1869 war Adolf Schmiedl zum

ersten Rabbiner der zu dieser Zeit von

der IKG Wien unabhängigen

Kultusgemeinde Sechshaus bestellt

worden. Im selben Jahr erwarb man das

Doppelgrundstück Turnergasse 22,

Ecke Blüthengasse (heute

Dingelstedtgasse), das im Zentrum der

Gemeinde lag; 1870 beauftragte man

den Wiener Architekten Carl König

(1841-1915) mit der Planung des

ersten Vorstadttempels nach dem

Vorbild des Großen Leopoldstädter

Tempels. 1872 wurde der knapp 830

Plätze fassende Neorenaissancebau mit

„pompejanischem“ (Leopold Stern)

Innendekor fertiggestellt, 1923 durch

eine Winterbetschule erweitert.

Der Turnertempel war, nach dem heute

einzigen erhaltenen, ältesten

Stadttempel in der Seitenstettengasse

und dem Tempel in der Tempelgasse 3,

der dritte Synagogenbau Wiens und

zugleich der erste in einer der damals

noch nicht eingemeindeten Wiener

Vorstädte. Einer der wichtigsten

Chronisten der Zeit, Leopold Stern, ab

1852 Kantor, Religionslehrer und

Beamter der Fünfhauser jüdischen

Gemeinde, beschrieb den Tempel Mitte

der 1890er-Jahre als einen „auf drei

Seiten freistehender Bau, welcher in

den vornehmen Formen der

italienischen Frührenaissance gehalten

ist.“ Stern geht in seinen detailgenauen

Betrachtungen auf die reich getäfelten

Holzgalerien ein, auf das „aus

geschnitztem Holze“ gestaltete

„Allerheiligste“ nach dem Vorbild der

römischen Triumphbogenarchitektur

und auf die imposanten korinthischen

Säulen, die „ein dreifach gegliedertes

Hauptgesimse“ trugen, „über dem sich

ein von Akroterien gekrönter Giebel

erhebt“.

Die Liegenschaft ging wenige Monate

nach dem Brand auf dem Weg der

„Arisierung“ in den Besitz eines

Nachbarn, der Garagen und eine

Tankstelle errichtete und eine

Reparaturwerkstätte betrieb, über und

gelangte, nachdem das 1947

begonnenen Rückstellungsverfahren

1950 mit einem Vergleich geendet

hatte, 1973 schließlich in den Besitz

der Gemeinde Wien, die hier von 1976

bis 1979 eine Wohnhausanlage

errichtete. Die Garagen wurden zu

dieser Zeit abgerissen. Einzig der

Umstand, dass das Wohngebäude aus

bautechnischen Gründen etwas nach

hinten versetzt wurde, „rettete“ den

ehemaligen

Synagogenplatz davor, wie

alle anderen der 21 in der

Reichspogromnacht

zerstörten Wiener Tempel

heute verbautes Wiener

Wohnareal zu sein. 1988

wurde zwar eine

Gedenktafel angebracht,

doch erst mit Verkauf des

ehemaligen Vereinshauses

in der Herklotzgasse 21

und dem daran

anschließenden Beginn

der Forschungs- und

Vermittlungsarbeiten

konnte ein Prozess ins

Leben gerufen werden, der

am nun wieder öffentlich

zugänglich gemachten

Gedächtnisort seinen

Höhepunkt findet.

Dem Prozess der Suche

nach einem adäquaten

Erinnerungsortes gingen die

Initiativen der Agentur

dieloop und des Vereins

coobra voran, sowie das Erkennen und

Erforschen der bedeutenden jüdischen

Vergangenheit des Bezirkes, als

integralem Element des Lebens vor

1938. Die Forschungstätigkeiten

führten zu zahlreichen Interviews mit

ehemaligen jüdischen Bewohner_innen

des Bezirks, zu der Publikation „Das

Dreieck meiner Kindheit“ im

Mandelbaum Verlag und zur

gleichnamigen Ausstellung im Haus

Herklotzgasse 21, einem ehemaligen

Zentrum des jüdischen Lebens im

Bezirk.

Im Jänner 2010 wurde von Kunst im

öffentlichen Raum Wien in

Kooperation mit der Stadt Wien ein

zweistufiger Wettbewerb für die

Gestaltung eines Mahnmals an der

Stelle des zerstörten Turnertempels

ausgelobt, zu dem fünf Teams aus

Künstler_innen und

Landschaftsgestalter_innen geladen

wurden.

Zielsetzung und Aufgabe des

Wettbewerbs war es, an der Stelle des

zerstörten Turnertempels einen

zeitgemäßen Gedenk- und Symbolort

zu schaffen. Zum einen sollte ein

Gedächtnisort geschaffen werden, der

von der Geschichte des Tempels und

seiner Bedeutung für die jüdischen

Bewohner der Gemeinde, aber auch

von seiner Zerstörung und

Verdrängung berichtet. Zum anderen

sollte die Fläche wieder ein Ort der

Begegnung, ein zugänglicher und

nutzbarer Freiraum für die heutigen

Bewohner des Bezirkes, werden. Der

neu gestaltete Platz bildet eine

Schnittstelle zwischen Vergangenheit

und Zukunft.

Als zentrales Element ihrer Gestaltung

haben die Gewinner des Wettbewerbs

Iris Andraschek und Hubert Lobnig

gemeinsam mit Maria Auböck und

János Kárász unter dem Titel

„Turnertempel Erinnerungsort - Suche

nach einer reflexiven Archäologie“ ein

Netz aus dunklen Beton-Balken

gewählt. Es symbolisiert in seiner

abstrahierten Form den eingestürzten,

zerborstenen Dachstuhl des

Turnertempels nach dem Brand und

erschließt zugleich in seiner

„graphischen“ Anmutung den Platz,

gliedert die Fläche, schafft Räume und

dient als Möblierung.

Die vorgefertigten Elemente, schließen

teilweise mit dem Bodenniveau ab,

ragen teilweise aus dem Boden,

wachsen heraus. Der Platz bildet im

Inneren Räume, Nischen, Zonen. Die

Strukturierung holt die Menschen in

den Platz hinein, hält sie im Platz,

bietet ihnen Platz aber auch Abstand

und Distanz. Die Betonbalken sind an

der Oberfläche mit einer Holzmaserung

strukturiert und nehmen das Bild des

verbrannten, eingestürzten Dachbodens

ÜBER DEN

TURNERTEMPEL

ERINNERUNGSORT

Hubert Lobnig und Iris Andraschek

auf. Zugleich sind sie Musterung,

Markierung und Möblierung.

Mosaikflecken bilden archäologische

Fundstücke: Schon auf der Straße vor

dem Betreten des Platzes beginnend,

finden sie sich zwischen den Balken

- Bilder im Boden, die zwischen

tragischer Vergangenheit und

zuversichtlicher Gegenwart vermitteln;

auf ein lebendiges künftiges

Miteinander von Menschen

unterschiedlicher Religionen und

Herkunft hinweisen. Gleichsam

archäologische Fundstücke, die

symbolträchtige Früchte. Granatäpfel,

Feigen, Oliven, Datteln sind erkennbar,

Überreste eines Festmahls vielleicht,

aber auch eine Dose eines bekannten

Energydrinks, Obst in einem

Plastiksackerl oder Kerne in einem

Becher. Es sind Früchte aus dem Süden,

die in der Thora erwähnt werden und

im jüdischen Jahreskreis eine Rolle

spielen. Es sind aber auch Früchte, die

den heute in der Umgebung

wohnhaften Migranten aus ihrer

Heimat vertraut sind und auch längst

Eingang in den Speiseplan

autochthoner Wiener gefunden haben.

Der neu gestaltete Platz soll somit als

Schnittstelle zwischen Vergangenheit

und Zukunft erlebbar sein, in der

sowohl die grausame Kraft von der

Zerstörung des Tempels als auch die

lebensbejahende Energie im Heute und

in kommenden Zeiten

angelegt sind.

Andraschek und

Lobnig entschieden

sich, dem durch ihr

Zitat der verkohlen

Holzkonstruktionen

einprägsamen Bild des

zerstörten Tempels mit

den intarsierten

Mosaiken etwas

Positives, Lebendiges

entgegenzusetzen. „Wir

sind dabei - angeregt

von der

pompejanischen

Malereien in der

Synagoge - von einem

pompejanischen

Mosaik ausgegangen,

das den Namen „Der

umgekehrte

Küchenboden“ oder

„Reste eines

Festmahles“ trägt, und

haben uns schließlich

für Abbildungen von

Früchten und Gemüsen entschieden,

welche in der Tora erwähnt werden,

aber auch für eine transkulturelle

Gesellschaft von heute stehen.“

Der Erinnerungsort Turnertempel ist

ein „neuer“ Gedenkort geworden. Im

Gegensatz zu klassischen Denkmälern

bietet er sich als Verweil- und

Aufenthaltsort an, lädt ein, sich in seine

Räumlichkeit, in seine Geschichte

hinein zu begeben. Frontalität wird

durch Involviertheit und Beteiligung

ersetzt. Das funktioniert sehr gut. Die

Menschen geben auf ihn acht. Von der

Idee, ihn auch als Veranstaltungsort zu

nutzen wurde außer den

Gedenkveranstaltungen zur

Reichsprogromnacht noch nicht

wirklich Gebrauch gemacht, was gut

ist. Es soll ein stiller, besinnlicher Ort

für die individuelle Erfahrung von

Geschichte und zugleich ein schöner

und einladender Ort in der Stadt sein

und bleiben.

Auf einer Tafel im hinteren Bereich des

Erinnerungsortes Turnertempel finden

Besucher_innen Informationen über

die Platzgestaltung, über die Geschichte

des Turnertempels und den Brand von

1938. Die Information ist bewusst der

eigenen Wahrnehmung nachgereiht.

Der Text enthält Textzitate aus „Es soll

ein lebendiger Erinnerungsort sein“ von

Angela Heide, dem Pressetext von

KÖR, Kunst im öffentlichen Raum

Wien, Erinnerungsort Turnertempel

- Suche nach einer reflexiven

Archäologie von Hubert Lobnig und

Janos Karasz, und dem Artikel von

„Betreten geboten“ von Franziska Leeb.

Iris Andraschek

Geboren 1963 in Horn. Studium an der

Akademie der Bildenden Künste Wien.

Ausbildung an der Freskoschule in Bozen

und scuola degli arti ornamentali in

Rom. Schwerpunkte der künstlerischen

Arbeit sind Fotografie und Zeichnung,

sowie ortsbezogene Projekte und

Installationen im öffentlichen Raum (seit

1997 oft gemeinsam mit Hubert Lobnig).

Sie ist Mitglied der Wiener Secession und

von Foto Fluss, erhielt zahlreiche Preise

und Stipendien, lebt und arbeitet in

Wien und Mödring (NÖ).

Hubert Lobnig

Geboren 1962 in Völkermarkt. Studium

an der Hochschule für angewandte Kunst

in Wien. Schwerpunkte der künstlerischen

Arbeit sind Video, Zeichnung, Malerei,

Fotografie sowie ortsbezogene Projekte

und Installationen im öffentlichen Raum

(seit 1997 oft gemeinsam mit Iris

Andraschek). Zahlreiche kuratorische

Projekte. Professur für künstlerische Praxis

an der Kunstuniversität Linz. Lebt und

arbeitet in Wien und Mödring (NÖ).

Hubert Lobnig ist Mitglied der NGBK in

Berlin und der Wiener Secession.

Photo: Iris Andraschek


L I T E R A R Y S E C T I O N

DIE

TOTEN

HABEN

KEINEN

HUNGER

I STAND IN THE

BOOTH

15 MINUTES

OF MY LIFETIME

FOR AND AGAINST

THE KILLING OF

MILLIONS OF

THEY WILL NOT

FOLLOW YOU

THE LIVING WILL

THE ROTTEN ALIVE

REMEMBERING

THEIR GLIMPSE

WHICH WAS GIVEN

THE UPCOMING

IS NOT TRYING TO

DEFEND ANYTHING,

NEITHER THE

EXPLANATION OF

THE PAST OR THE

LOGIC IN THE

THE PROLETARIAN

WORKS BUT DOES

NOT POSSESS

AND DOES NOT

CONDUCT THE

CONDITIONS

UNDER WHICH

DO WE FOCUS ON

THAT NARROW

PERIOD OF TIME?

DOES ANYONE

FEEL ALIENATED

BECAUSE (S)HE

DOES NOT OWN THE

MINUTES

TO US.

WORDS ITSELF.

(S)HE WORKS?

CONDITION THEY

OF UNSEEN

WORK FOR?

Lars Dreiucker

GLIMPSE

THE DEAD

ARE NOT HUNGRY

WITH OPEN EYES

THEY WAIT FOR THE

LAST GLIMPSE.

DEATH IS NOTHING

NOT HAVING BEEN

IS THE CRIME

WHY WE ARE

NOT THE DEAD

ALTHOUGH WE ARE

WAITING FOR THE

SAME GLIMPSE?

WHAT GLIMPSE

ANYWAY?

IF WE REMEMBER

THE PLACES OF

FORCED LABOUR

CAMPS, WE DO NOT

ONLY REMEMBER

THE DEAD

BUT ALSO THE

IF WE AGREE ON

THE FACT THAT

ALL PEOPLE TODAY

DON'T OWN THE

CONDITIONS THEY

WORK FOR AND

HELP TO NOURISH

ANSWER

ME!

INSTITUTION OF

THOSE

MARCHING IN THE

ALIENATED WORK

CONDITIONS,

PERFECTLY SAFE

FIELD OF ROTTEN

GLORY

THE DEAD ARE NOT

AS SUCH. IS THAT

NOT SO? ISN'T LIFE

IF SO, WHY DO WE

FOCUS ON THE

TRIES TO FIGHT

HUNGRY

IN THE GIST OF

TIME OF FORCED

THE SEEN DEFEAT.

WITH OPEN EYES

THE MODERN

LABOUR BETWEEN

CHARTING

THEY STORM OUR

PRACTICE OF WAGE

1933 AND 1945

MANNER IN THE

PAST AND NO

LABOUR A DRAMA

WITH A SPECIAL

FORESEEABLE

PICTURE HERE

AS SUCH?

AWARENESS?

STORM

BEGGING FOR

IF ALL MODERN

FOR GOLDEN

FORGIVNESS. AS IF

WAGE LABOUR IS

CHAMBERS OR

THERE WERE SUCH

FORCED LABOUR

FORGIVENESS.

A THING.

WHY DO WE FOCUS

ON THAT NARROW

PERIOD OF TIME?

Lars Dreiucker is a philosopher, poet,

screenwriter and curator.

SCHICHTEN

Bibliography

Erwin Uhrmann

I

Ich zog nach wien

vom land ohne

recht zu wissen

kramte in der tasche

unausgeschlafen

musste jeden tag den grünen

platz

queren unfrisiert

über die fahle wiese

vor den häusern

mit eingezogenem kopf

weil der wind dort fegt

über die platten,

die stadtkinder spielten

oder kleinere ließen sich ziehen

gelangweilt in ihren kinderwägen

wie touristen im fiaker

hunde, die ihren geruch verteilten

auf den paar quadratmetern grün

es stank

in der hitze

nach gummi und saurer erde

mein hohlweg

zwischen den grasflächen

saß ich dann und wann am rand, aß

pizza

umstanden von

betrunkenen

die zitterten

vor der dämmerung über dem

betonierten fluss,

in der nacht schrie man sich an

oder fragte nach dem weg

nebenan aber öffneten sich

türen aus hellen räumen

II

In büchern am institut

las ich

von meinem grasplatz und dem

hohlweg

wo leute verhört

500 am tag und abstransportiert oder

eingesperrt

von 900, die klebten in ihren sesseln

mit spitzen zähnen

und einsperrten, aburteilten

von überall her ließ man

die menschen kommen

ein hauptquartier zum foltern

der unschuldigen

III

Im herbst in connecticut

lag ich im hotel und las von

mark twain der dort lebte

in hartford

/und, dort erfuhr ich es, dass er auch/

in wien

den kaiser gesehen

dort abstieg

im métropole

/gebaut zur weltausstellung/

im métropole

gegenüber wo die hellen räume

sind

mit freunden im beisl

und in der nacht zum schlafen

ins métropole

wo später das terrorquartier

wo später der grasplatz

wo heute die stadt

Erwin Uhrmann ist Schriftsteller und lebt

in Wien. Zuletzt erschien von ihm der

Gedichtband „Abglanz Rakete Nebel“.

Michel Foucault, Discipline and Punish

(New York: Pantheon Books, 1977), p. 30

Pierre Nora, Between Memory and

History. Representations, no 26 (Spring

1989), pp. 7–24, p. 9.

James E. Young, The Texture of Memory:

Holocaust Memorials and Meaning

(New Haven: Yale University Press,

1993).

Nora, Between Memory and History, p. 9.

William John Thomas Mitchell, “Holy

Landscape”, in Larry Abramson (ed.),

Holy Landscape. A Collection of Essays

translated into Hebrew by Rona Cohen

(Tel Aviv: Resling, 2009), p. 117.

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1945. Wien: Picus Verlag 1993.

Nun Gute Nacht - Der vergessene

Widerstand in Krems http://www.

erinnern.at/bundeslaender/

niederoesterreich/bibliothek/dokumente/

nun-gute-nacht- der-vergessenewiderstand-in-krems

Robert Streibel: April in Stein (Roman)

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Eine Geschichte von Anpassung, Verrat

und Widerstand. Verlag Bibliothek der

Provinz, Weitra 2014.

Hellmut Butterweck: Nationalsozialisten

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um Gerechtigkeit 1945-1955 in der

zeitgenössischen öffentlichen

Wahrnehmung. Innsbruck 2016.

Robert Streibel: Aus der Verantwortung

gestohlen. Wie verteidigen sich

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Erinnerungsarbeit 1938/88 schulheft

49/1988.

Der letzte Akt. Noch zwei Tage vor der

Kapitulation am 8. Mai 1945 wurde in

Krems eine schaurige

Gedenkveranstaltung für den toten Adolf

Hitler inszeniert. Die Zeit 11.5.2015.

Kremser Zeitung, 31.5.1956.

Robert Streibel: „Plötzlich waren sie alle

weg. Die Juden der “Gauhauptstadt

Krems” und ihre Mitbürger.” Mit einem

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Picus Verlag. 2. Auflage 1992.

Vgl. Gedenken und Mahnen in

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Anna Lambert: Du kannst im Leben vor

nichts davonlaufen. Erinnerungen einer

auf sich selbst gestellten Frau.

STAY IN TOUCH

AND GET FURTHER

INFORMATION ABOUT

ZIMZUM ISSUE II

hadastapouchi.com

Herausgegeben und mit einem Vorwort von

Robert Streibel. Wien: Picus Verlag 1992.

http://judeninkrems.at/denkmal-furanna-lambert/

Cf. Martin Pollack, Skażone krajobrazy

[“Contaminated Landscapes”], Wołowiec

2014.

Karolina Przewrocka, Israel, Don’t

Exclude Poland from Holocaust

Reconciliation Process, http://www.

haaretz.com/opinion/.

premium-1.701978

The debate itself has been thoroughly

analysed by Piotr Forecki in his

monograph “Spór o Jedwabne: analiza

debaty publicznej” (“Wrangle over

Jedwabne: An Analysis of the Public

Debate”), which was published in 2008.

The pogrom and its aftermath was also

the topic of a phenomenal reportage book

My z Jedwabnego (2004), written by

Anna Bikont (it was translated to

English as “The Crime and the Silence”

in 2015).

Yael Bartana, Nightmares (And Europe

will be stunned, part 1), 2008.

Franzobel: Österreich ist schön,

Erschienen in : Franzobel: Luna Park,

Zsolnay Verlag, Wien, 2003



issue n o . ii

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