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Kris Canavan, He is bleeding now

Photograph: Andrea Rawlinson


A camera clicks


A lady has a cappuccino at the bar while Kris Canavan pulls weights by hooks attached to his skin.

The coffee machine intervenes.

Is that the machine or the audio

Not sure.

He is still holding blocks of piss & lambrini.

She intervenes tapping her brush on the glass of blood.

He is cradling piss and Lambrini.

Chris Canavan.

Kris Canavan.

Show some respect.

Spell the name right.

He is bleeding for us afterall.

Audience captivated by his piece.

4 hooks.

4 blocks of frozen piss.

1 large silence.

Now the hooks are out of him it’s easier to watch.

Just noticed some.

Still there.

Holding the weights.

Strong man?

She cleans her sheet off blood.

He continues to twist and holds the audiences gaze.

Like a puppet on a string.


Do you enjoy watching other peoples pain?

He is bleeding now.

Are we all satisfied now?

He twists and the weights drop.

I can’t see him.

But he is lifting them again with his skin.

Why is he not bleeding yet?

exchange radical recipes

exchange radical recipes by raumlaborberlin at HAU 3
whatch also the Live Streams

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from Linz KunstRaum Goethestrasse xtd with Helge Meyer, Charles Kaltenbacher, Time´s Up, Betty Wimmer and Stefanie Wuschitz.

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Tarzahn – der Edle Wilde aus Marzahn

first impressions from Tarzahn
check out the Live Streams

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Watching from the balcony

A man stood on the stage under the lighting while the artist stands at the back of the room. Some people look at him and I wonder if this is a performance or preparing for a performance? When is someone performing or not? Watching Nicola from the balcony I like the distance, I want to photograph her but do not want to get too close. I notice her action most when she is still. She has a group of dedicated followers by her side. Happy with the lighting the man leaves the stage. I try and take a picture of Nicola on my phone but the light is too bright and bleaches her out. Many other people are documenting this using cameras, drawing, and mobile phones. The sound is piercing in the space. I keep wanting something else to happen but I’m not sure what. Giggles move around the room. A bare buttock keeps showing itself to me, I feel something is about to start.

follow your introduction II

have a look

Her writings in blood

People keep going up to her writings in blood. As if they held some secret to her thoughts, wishes or desires. As if each fragmented de-nucleated cell was a mirror to Pandora’s box. They inspect her calligraphy in real time….. Words hit the page; she has literally bled for her art. “From her heart” apparently. There is a slight asynchrony to the four clocks that stand watching. Marginally out of phase, but enough to remind us of how realisations set amongst a crowd.

Each drip of blood that stains the white iridescent sheet blots out light that would otherwise bounce. These are the kind of tears that neither wash nor awaken. They mock our inevitable need to dirty ourselves so that we may become clean. It is not in the purity that we find peace, but in the cleansing. We are ritualistic bastards, illegitimate children of Faith and Controversy. Intimate bedfellows of process.

Murky Noises

A murky, primal electric soundscape; industry roars to be set free.

Blood decanted into ten glasses.

An offering.


Time drowned in a tin bath.

I am submerged.

As blood runs down Nicola’s arms a baby cries.

She moves to the wall to stick or to read?

A man looks over her shoulder while the other woman continues to read.

The sound is unsettling and I don’t know why.

Something falling Nicola continues to stick.

Back of her shirt is still pristine white, wet washed out bloodstains

Down the back of her white jeans.


12 Uhr 30 – Noch keine Zustandsveränderung. Ich versuche die Zeit damit zu überbrücken, dass ich meine „technischen“ Fertigkeiten übe, wie ich – möglichst gleichzeitig – die Kommentare schreibe, den Live-Stream benutze, Facebook und YouTube besuche, Hintergrundinformationen sammle über die Akteure, hin- und herdüse zwischen Liverpool und Riga. Und ich versuche vorzustellen, wie die Beschleunigung eben die Ereignisse aufhebt. Ich fluche ab und zu saftig, in meiner Sprache, dass ich immer und immer diese peinliche Blendung Multitasking-Persönlichkeit auf mich aufzwinge. Ich habe aber gesagt, ich muss mich steigern.
12 Uhr 50 – Berlin, Walk on by. Grenzen ständig überschreiten so, dass man die Grenzlinien nicht verlässt, weder diesseits noch jenseits, ich interpretiere
wenigstens so, was ich lese, sehe, die Idee steht mir nahe. Eine gehende
Frau. Eine kletternde Frau. Die Sinnlichkeit des Gehens, des Kletterns. Ich
denke natürlich an Robert Walser. Was denkt sie während des Gehens? Mich
interessiert das ganz plötzlich wesentlich mehr als der zu beschreitende Weg
selbst. Denkt Sie über den Weg nach? Über die Hindernisse? Oder nur über
ihre Schritte? Denkt Sie mit dem Rhythmus, mit dem Takt der Bewegungen, mit ihrem Blutdruck? Schreitet sie hin in der gegebenen Landschaft oder zeichnen eben ihre Schritte die Landschaft nach? Etc. Mitgehen. Mitlaufen. Ein erworbener sprachlicher Reflex schreckt mich zurück. Also: nur mitgehen. Gehen lassen. Gehenlassen. Ja, die Frau interessiert mich mehr als der Weg.  // Adios: der Elf von Kölle

Pair a Pare, Alistair MacLennan, Platt Chapel, Graveyard, Manchester

After the Silence

The minute went on for three and then Nicola Canavan starts. The room feels settled and focused on her as a man draws blood from her into a bag. Pristine white shirt she holds the warm bag of blood to her chest. Sound of breathing maybe a heart beat? Is the sound live or is it pre-recorded? The audience look directly at her others look away although stay still. Performer or audience member sits in the seat opposite her and holds the bag with Nicola to her chest. I wonder what if feels like? An usher directs the audience to take part and sit with Nicola. The audience seems to be a little unsettled although most stay. Nicola cradles the ladies head into her shoulder and she cries.


Platt Chapel is chattering with artists, techies, documenters, volunteers.  People with cameras, carrier bags, experiences they are ready to create and share with others.

The public is to be let in shortly.  “Will you just grab that mic stand?” a techie asks.

We await the silence.  Ours will be two minutes.

Jess (documenter)


I arrived here at 9.30am wanting to get set-up and logged on. All the documentors are situated up on the balcony overlooking the main space. Not sure whether to introduce myself, is that really important? I applied for this opportunity to look at other peoples work, learn about live art and to develop my writing. My background is performance and video although my pieces are very short. There will be a lot of durational work throughout the day which sometimes I can struggle with although I do want to engage with it. The documentors have been talking about structure, for example recording sound every hour, editing in the moment, a stream of consciousness. I just need to get into my own flow and will write when something needs to be written. Other people can contribute on this blog during the day not sure if people will? A few techy things I need to sort out such as linking into the 11 11 11 facebook page. Audience members are now getting let in. Shortly there will be a minute’s silence.

Ich übe

Meine Wahrnehmung übt, die Ereignisse in Akkorden wahrzunehmen. Das Gehirn macht das unentwegt in der realen, dreidimensionalen Welt. Man könnte denken: Durch die Zweidimensionalität der Oberfläche, des Monitors, wird die akkordhafte Wahrnehmung einfacher. Für mich nicht. Ich muss mich in zweifacher Hinsicht bekämpfen, da ich in der realen Welt eben die akkordhafte Wahrnehmung reduzieren will. Ich möchte eher die einzelnen Töne herauslösen, möglichst lang und unverändert in mir klingen lassen, um eine größere Tiefe zu erlangen. Wenn ich den Monitor, das Interface, die Oberfläche anstarre, habe ich die (zwanghafte?) und (vielleicht befangene?) Vorstellung, dass ich von der Oberfläche nicht abrücken kann. Ich spüre, wie meine Augenäpfel hin- und herrollen auf der Mattscheibe. Ich muss mich also heute noch steigern, wenn ich irgendwie hinter die Bilder will.  Adios: der Elf von Kölle

on trail

good morning from Cologne

we are with you nowall the best


How to blog about other peoples work?

Working in the Chapel today I have found it a struggle to get started on Word Press. I was kindly helped by a colleague although being placed in the corner, I felt a little excluded from the documentation discussions. I tried to listen although I got tied into getting this blog up and running. I was present at the start of our talks however I did struggle to keep up with the flow of conversation and when I finally had something to say, the moment had gone. Although I did not agree with all the comments I still take them on board which for a while left me with writers block. I just need to start making regular posts, let the words flow and a structure will follow. I think I was a bit optimistic trying to write before the 11 11 11 event. I have to allow for mistakes and remember that this is a learning process, which may not work all the time. After the documenters initial meeting we went for a drink and had a lovely homemade meal at Michael’s studio. I have now come home fired up for tomorrow.

10/11/11 Linz: Into Your Arms by Béatrice Didier

You can watch the video of this intervention in Linz tomorrow from 11am to 10pm at KunstRaum Goethestrasse xtd in Linz.

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photos: Larissa Lica

PAErsche and ERM

PAErsche will held up a kind of meeting with different topics about the different kind of cooperations, collaborations and open source performances.
We like the idea to follow the europeanwide cooperations as a macrocosmos and same time we discuss and practice the microcosmos of our network roots.

Some comments we will post tomorrow, some encounterings will take place. For all have a good 11.11.11. day
greetings for PAErsche
Boris Nieslony
About PAErsche you will find somethings:  and in facebook

News from the exchange partner from Manchester!

We are here in Platt Chapel, Manchester discussing how to document the 11/11/11 event. How do you document an eleven-hour event? When do we start? When does it end? Where in the building to record sound? How to film? Generally it sound’s like most people want some structure. There are eleven documenters and eleven performance artists. Allot of people in a small space. Where should we all be placed during the event without interfering with the performances? Talking about tweeting, short condensed. Hai Ku is being mentioned about rhythm being scattered around the space. People’s voices are being echoed in the space and I’m finding it hard to capture what people are saying. Michael say’s ‚brilliant‘. I’ve got a question; Is it ok to say I’m going to do what the fuck I want? Will the documentation of the event just go everywhere? Not to delicate upsetting the artist. It’s our own discretion? The structure for the next three days: How to document the event. Documenting the event. Creating an art installation from the documented material.