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This is a journey written in the body. Going from one place to another without knowing in which one it is, if it is in one or the other or in both at the same time. Perhaps the only place where everything agrees is in the journey, the moving, the movement that is not yet, the opposite of the solid, that which does not know if it is fleeing or simply always arriving, always in the same place, on the same journey.
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STRICT – STRANGER – STRANO
Streng – stranger – strano
Entrevista a Martín Mele
Interview with Martín Mele
Martín Mele
Imprint
“THIS JOURNEY IS WRITTEN IN THE BODY. GOING FROM ONE PLACE TO ANOTHER WITHOUT KNOWING IN WHICH ONE IT IS, IF IT IS IN ONE OR THE OTHER OR IN BOTH AT THE SAME TIME. PERHAPS THE ONLY PLACE WHERE EVERYTHING AGREES IS IN THE JOURNEY, THE MOVING, THE MOVEMENT THAT IS NOT YET, THE OPPOSITE OF THE SOLID, THAT WHICH DOES NOT KNOW IF IT IS FLEEING OR SIMPLY ALWAYS ARRIVING, ALWAYS IN THE SAME PLACE, ON THE SAME JOURNEY.“
“Our perspective prevents us from seeing more than a mere fraction of the world at large.”
Olga Tokarczuk
Raim und SteckerDüsseldorf 2023
To the nomad, his suitcase is his palace. Aerial roots are his only means of drawing sustenance. He is “drifting” with the Continental Shift. Home is a place unknown – an alien abode, a focus forever once removed. Arrival is something never to be accomplished. The nomad is at once an exiled immigrant and an immigrated émigré. Wherever he goes, he is in exile.
The caves of others – that is where the stranger lives. There, one can see remnants of his restless visits, signs of his unmediated strangeness, traces of his existence (not infrequently marked by boredom), works of his unencumbered artistic practice. Thus, the residue he leaves behind as art attests to a temporary homely presence. Not home, mind, just homely! It bears witness to a provisional and transitory stopover: this is where I was – this is where I would like to return to – perhaps I will even in fact return here – I would dearly love to have been allowed to return here one time!
In these caves of others he gets lost in his leisurely indifferent stopover activities, just as his ancestor, while shaping a hand-axe, forgot to perfect his weapon as he got carried away by the interplay of dancing stone splinters. The enthusiasm of the living moment obscures the spectral aim, which for him can anyway only be a strange approximation of an alien final purpose.
“MELE MOBIL”, 2023, LABOCA783, BUENOS AIRES, PH: IVO AICHENBAUM
“PERFORMING MELE”, 2017 LABOCA783, BUENOS AIRES, PH: GIAN PAOLO MINELLI
Accordingly, his art merely demarcates anchorages. The suitcase after all had to be deposited somewhere. Tables have been moved; furniture has been rearranged. Substitutes of the familiar have been cloned – new friends have been made, including some who are draped across rickety ladders in a postnatal exhaustion triggered by the mode of their creation. Surroundings have been generated ephemerally – from that which is found in situ but likewise from materials which have to be sourced.
A world has been created which is familiar to the nomad yet alien to the settlers. Nevertheless, its strangeness arouses our curiosity, not least because it testifies to the existence of the Other. Everything is strano. A new world is being created every six days. Once in a while it may even take a whole week – often, there is no Sabbath for the nomad!
