Loom Magazine #4: Places of Crime

issue 3 | Places of crime

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loom

walking with the speed of light Issue 3: «Places of crime»

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loom

issue three is presented by the faculty of media of the Bauhaus -University Weimar

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Editorial

places of crime

Dear viewer, watch out – the topic of our new loom issue is dangerous … to be mistaken. It took us some time to finish the «places of crime» issue but investigating a crime is always a long-term business. When we first thought about «places of crime» blood and thunder crossed our mind.

But this was just the point of departure: As places of crime have the fascinating characteristic of telling the story of a criminal deed we generally wondered about places that tell storys, narrative

locations, the way how signals and traces retell what has happened before, how locations silently testify the happening in the past. Hence Bad girls, bad dolls, bad dogs and bad thoughts are only a few possibillities displayed in this issue. Feel free to join our investigations and see what the butler did.

Or follow the trace of the hunters bullet. As we all know: Crime does pay!

Alexander Lembke, Faculty of Media

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Guidance

Alexander Lembke Editorial Nora Strรถbel Swimmingpool Irene Izquired Places of Crime Ingmar Pohlman Mind the dog Philipp Dennert Weimarian scene of crime Nina Rรถder Heiligenkreuz Johanness Heinke Waiting Philipp Dennert Narrative places Killian Ullman Bad girls Nina Rรถder Triffels Philipp Dennert The party is over Jakob Hoff What they do Tasja Pulawska Scar Jens Rudolph Der Gehweg Fraenzi Walther Woodlands Imprint

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Swimmingpool A hot summer day in the Holloway Lane. Everything’s calm.

A dull noise from far away. Water splashes, then silence again.

The postman pauses for a moment and then moves on delivering letters.

Nora StrĂśbel | Swimmingpool

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Places of Crime Little Weimar inhabitants have been disrupted. Their transit collapsed with a strangersaction. Their quiet intimacy broken. How to protect themselves?

The ancient meaning of the word crime is to judge, to accuse. This makes complete sense. Is there such a thing as a crime behind the scene if crime is only in the eyes of the ones who see it?

Irene Izquierdo | Places of Crime

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Mind the dog!

Enjoy a look at some typical german private estates I found in the villages around Weimar. But be careful, these beauties need to be protected.

Ingmar Pohlmann | Mind the dog!

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Essay

Weimarian scene of crime Goethe and Schiller were tired. It was about time the shop closed. The theater square in Weimar steadily got emptier. They had been watching the Bauhaus-Museum for more than 150 years. Motionless. Below there feet countless of tourists took pictures with them. Japanese, Americans, Germans, French and Netherlands − all of them excitedly composed the typical picture including the two German heroes. Behind their back a family had sat down to eat icecream. A pigeon came to rest on Schiller’s shoulder.

«A quite night would be desirable,» thought Goethe. «It will be the same as all the weekend nights,» Schiller

Philipp Dennert | Weimarian scene of crime

added soundless. «The young folk will come again.» «Do not bring up these memories again,» ached Goethe.

«Since the new-fashioned restaurant for quick meals in the next avenue had opened, we hardly had a recreative night.» «At least there have been fewer students daring to urinate upon our feed,» Schiller argued. «Truly you speak, my dear friend,» answered his companion. «Times have changed, though I cannot remember everything.» «About 70 years ago we both were caged without light for several years. Do thou have in mind, what hast happened?» «No idea, maybe it had something to do with all these

brown uniformed soldiers,» Schiller said thoughtfully. «I wish I could see what they put on stage behind us. It is a shame they put us hear, without a glimpse on the theatre.» A skater grinded over the pedestal, jumped and landed skillfully, followed by the applause of his companions. Suddendly thunder and lighting struck and rain set in. «Rainy summer,» mentioned Schiller. Within moments the square was deserted. Just the flashing blue light of the police car that had come to chase some skaters remained.

«Allright, before you tell me again about Prometheus – let us keep silent again for some time.» Rain set in.

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Heiligenkreuz Now only few things are where they used to be. But they can remember, where things were.

After World War Second my grandparents had been expelled from Bohemia as teenagers. Although they lost everything they got, every year they return to the place they still call their homeland. Every time they stop at a little cemetery in Heiligenkreuz to – like they say – «visit» their parents and grandparents. The grave of my great-grandmother has been ploughen up fifteen years ago like many other german graves. Now there is a meadow. And the big trees my grandfather had planted on his grandparents grave still stand there.

Nina Röder | Heiligenkreuz

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Waiting The Intension was to photograph old people in a respectfully way under the aspect of isolation.

Johannes Heinke | Waiting

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Essay

Narrative places Places tell stories.

But you have to listen carefully to understand. And often each place tells a different story for everyone.

For someone the park bench whispers the nostalgic story of a lost love. For someone else it tells the tale of the old man who regular sat there doing nothing else but watching. The school yard has a vaste compendium of stories … tales of conflicts about important meaningless things, tales of laughter after a passed test. Or the story of a drunken night. The smoker‘s corner conservers the feeling of a community or – possibly of a conspiracy. The station platform‘s stories are countless. Waiting for the train after a painful seperation in a long distance relationship. The hope and the beginning for something new.

The memories of leaving everything behind to make things better. Who produces the stories the places tell?

Only you, yourself and I. Open your eyes or you will miss them.

Or close them to make them deaf.

Philipp Dennert | Narrative places

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About a bad girl On the surface, a shining doll.

But an unexpected anger, inside.

So you better remember: A girl in a dress, is never harmless!

Killian Ullman | About a bad girl

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Triffles Situations or banalities which could cause thougthless acting – in moments you feel unobserved – just because they drive you crazy.

Nina Röder | Triffles

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Essay

The party is over.

The party is over. The flat has been transformed again. A couple of hours ago it was the scene of a fest. Hundreds of people had been everywhere laughing and drinking, dancing and kissing.

Waiting or bore themselves with just another party they should not have gone to from the beginning. Now the dancehall is again the hallway. The bar is again the kitchen. The lounge has transformed again to the sleeping room.

And you wake up in all these. When you fell asleep you were still at a party.

When you opened your eyes it has all just become a terribly filthy living room.

The television has to be reinstalled at the corner where we made out for the first time. The wardrobe has to be moved back to the corner we leaned on last night tightly twined. It silently accepts its mark. And tells me this story over and over again. Each time it gets more blurry and subtly it disappears.

Philipp Dennert | The party is over.

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What they do desire is a part of it, but before all of that you have to make up your mind.

Jakob Hoff | What they do

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Scar It’s part of your body even though you didn’t have it when you were born or even though you haven’t had it most of your live. It may be well hidden, or it may change your whole appearance.

Sometimes it reminds you of what you have been thru; sometimes you hide it because you’re ashamed of it.

It’s a scar – a little evidence that keeps a secret.

Tasja Pulawska | Scar

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I’m in an age where I don’t show much of my body any more, so I don’t mind.

It reminds me of my ignorance towards my own body and health.

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Because of it I always knows left form right.

Sometimes people would flinch back their hands while greeting me.

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I have it since I was born, it was a birthmark at first but because of cancer it became a scar. I can’t get rid of it, that’s what I wanted for most of my live, now I’m used to it.

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I sometimes think of it because it hurts and when I think about it: I should have stopped drinking ten years ago.

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Der Gehweg

Jens Rudolph | Der Gehweg

Noch rauschen die Wagen im immerwährenden Takt die Straße entlang, ohne dass die Fahrer ihren Blick von der Asphaltdecke wenden. Die Verkäuferin steht in ihrem Laden und wirft gelegentlich einen Blick nach draußen, um sich zu vergewissern, dass die Blumen auf dem Trottoir in einer ihr gefälligen Komposition angeordnet sind. Die Passanten gehen an den Pflanzen vorbei und werfen ihre Schatten auf den mit Bäumen gesäumten Grünstreifen zwischen der Straße und dem Gehweg. Von Zeit zu Zeit bleiben einige von ihnen auf den quadratischen Platten stehen, die von feinen, momentan kaum sichtbaren Rissen durchzogen sind.

Später, wenn die Verkäuferin schon längst ihr Geschäft verlassen hat und die Blumen hinter dem Schaufenster stehen, wird der Verkehr ins Stocken geraten, weil das blaue Rundumlicht eines am Straßenrand parkenden Polizeiwagens die Aufmerksamkeit der Fahrer erweckt. Ein rot-weißes Plastikband wird von der Fassade des Hauses zu den Bäumen gespannt

sein, damit kein Unbefugter die Stelle betritt, an der eine Kreidezeichnung die Körperhaltung eines am Boden liegenden Menschen nachzeichnet. Die Passanten werden in einer Traube hinter der Absperrung stehen und wie die Polizisten versuchen, das Unglück zu rekonstruieren. Sie werden beobachten, wie kleine Nummern auf den Boden gestellt und Fotos geschossen werden, während die Struktur des Bodens unter dem grellen Licht der Straßenlaterne immer deutlicher hervortritt, weil das Blut neben dem weißen Umriss langsam gerinnt.

Am nächsten Morgen wird es vertrocknet sein. Die Verkäuferin wird, ohne zu wissen was geschehen ist, an ihrem Laden ankommen und sehen, dass an der Stelle, wo sie gewöhnlich ihre Blumen aufstellt, schon zahlreiche Sträuße liegen, die äußerlich den ihren gleichen, aber dennoch ganz andere sind. Sie wird hilflos dastehen und nicht wissen, was sie tun soll, während der Verkehr seinen Rhythmus vom Vortag wieder gefunden hat und sein scheinbar immerwährendes Rauschen ausstößt.

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Woodlands … you might not see the forest for the trees …

Fraenzi Walther | Woodlands

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Imprint

Loom

walking with the speed of light Issue 3: «Places of crime» November 2007

places of crime

Publisher Bauhaus University Weimar c/o Alexander Lembke Bauhausstraße 7b D – 99423 Weimar phone: 03643 / 58 37 39 alexander.lembke@medien.uni-weimar.de Editor in Chief Alexander Lembke special photography course «Places of crime» summerterm 2007 Layout and Graphic Design Fraenzi Walther Coverphoto Fraenzi Walther Proofreading and editing Philipp Dennert Website Christian Lukaschik Authors Philipp Dennert: philippdennert.de Jens Rudolph

Contributing Artitsts Page 6 – 10 Nora Ströbel Page 12 – 15 Irene Izquired Page 16 – 21 Ingmar Pohlman Page 22 – 22 Philipp Dennert Page 23 – 25 Nina Röder Page 26 – 29 Johannes Heinke Page 30 – 30 Philipp Dennert Page 31 – 35 Killian Ullman Page 36 – 38 Nina Röder Page 39 – 39 Philipp Dennert Page 40 – 43 Jakob Hoff Page 44 – 48 Tasja Pulawska Page 49 – 49 Jens Rudolph Page 50 – 53 Fraenzi Walther Page 80 – 87

Loom is a project of the Faculty of Media and the Faculty of Architecture of the Bauhaus University Weimar.

All Contents © 2007 by Bauhaus University Weimar.

All rights reserved. Reproduction without Permisson is prohibited.

Contact info@loom-mag.net Preview Loom Issue 4 »Woodlandss« March 2008

Loom thanks!

Bauhaus University Weimar www.uni-weimar.de The editor in chief thanks Walter Bergmoser, Philipp Dennert, Wolf Landmann, Fraenzi Walther

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