NY

HOW THE SHOW GOT STOLEN
The following text was written after my stay in New York from August to October 2001. My goal was to finish the Joker Performances Project.
When I left for New York on the 14th of August, none of the possible scenarios that had been running through my head matched the reality I now know. When you plan a project like the Joker Performance, you try to think of every possible situation you might be confronted with: A highly conservative judge, who has, in fact, actually never seen a modern art museum from the inside; a police officer who happens to be near the site, who gets easily confused and pulls his gun. You even think of a Mafia boss who unwittingly gets trapped in the middle of the performance.
You try to weigh all the risks as carefully as possible and then make your decisions. Sometimes you even modify the performance: You ask your attorney to prepare a speech that could even teach a gorilla the basics of modern art; the policeman is calmed by a smiling girl handing over a pamphlet that reads: "Art at work." And you start praying that the Mafia boss coincidentally has stomach problems from drinking one or two martini cocktails too many the night before, forcing him to stay at home that day.
On the 16th of January 2001, on my way to Japan for the Joker Performance exhibition, I was reading Stefan Aust's book about the Red Army Faction (RAF), "Der Baader Meinhof Komplex." This was a terrorist group that reacted radically to the post-war German political hierarchy and situation at that time, including the Vietnam War. Since I had been arrested and convicted following the Tokyo performance, it was still unclear whether I would have problems entering Japan or not. During the flight, while reading my way through the RAF story, paranoia struck. Would I be able to enter the country? Would they check my luggage? And if I were able to enter successfully, would the exhibition cause us any problems?
I try to put a lot of the paranoid thoughts into perspective that inevitably confront you after your first more or less serious contact with the authorities. Sometimes you succeed in calming your mind, sometimes you don't. It makes you aware of a world one step too far.
Aust's book, together with my own experiences throughout the Joker Performances, made me aware that, although the concept of my artwork is in many ways different from the basic terrorist ideas, some unmistakable parallels exist:
* Like terrorists, I have to prepare my performances in secrecy. Terrorists are perfectionists in their way of working. I consciously try not to make the organization too perfect. If the police are confronted with a perfectly organized group of people, they get very nervous. They only see the possibility of the organization turning into a professional terrorist organization. So, because it's my aim neither to create a terrorist group nor to upset the police too much, I keep a certain amateurish flair to the whole organization.
* Like terrorists, I work with the elements of shock and disorientation. The big difference is the scale. There are very positive aspects of shock and disorientation. People have to rethink. They don't know exactly what's going on, because the situation is different from the ordinary. The big difference is: unlike terrorists, I'm not aiming for fear.
* Like terrorists, I aim for as much press coverage as possible.
This was the knowledge that I had before my New York project, the knowledge I arrived at Newark with on the 14th of August 2001 at 10:37 A.M. [...] | ENTIRE TEXT AS .PDF