In the flying artist’s room we will
do lots of unpredictable things, but we promise not to fill it with water (although we’ve calculated that it can hold around 16,680,636 teaspoons of it and it’s really tempting to test the accuracy of this).
We’re delighted
if we’re at a stall in a flea market and out of hundreds of mementos discover a photo of an old lady sitting on a leather sofa with a dog in her arms. They look so peculiarly similar, the same hair colour, the same hairstyle, the same facial expression. Hanging on the wooden wall behind her is a photo of the same dog with the same woman and the same faces, and next to it is a calendar that tells us that the photo was taken at the end of a month.
With the students we want
to create dreams, objects and scenarios and together bring about meaning and nonsense.
As artists we can
collect round items of any size, say that they’re magical and use them to solve problems that we couldn’t solve without magic round items. As artists we can play all day and call it work.
We’re ok because
okay is good enough.
We find the ordinary to be a huge source of inspiration. A visit to the local municipal office, a special offer in a supermarket’s magazine, the choreography of a traffic police officer and a giant kohlrabi can be aesthetic experiences.
g.a.d.o., artists-in-residence 2022/2023
Questioning our own realities is important because
it unleashes the power of our imagination for futures that we’d never have thought of, that appear impossible or strange. That holds a multitude of new possibilities that we can work with. Thinking openly, humorously and absurdly can save us all.
We love
retractable pencils, earplugs, porridge, bouquets of flowers, temporary tattoos.
We find competitiveness
infinitely boring.
Working in a team
always ends with cake.