NeMe: Remarks on modernity, mobility,
nomadism and the arts
by Dr Michael Haerdter
There’s nothing new about the fact that the world is in motion. It has always been ‘on the move’. Think of the billions of years of the coming into being of the Earth and the planetary system which an initial impulse maintains in wonderful rotation. Think of this solar system on its enigmatic shift in time and space. Think of the newest “String Theory“s vision of the Universe as a unique and constantly swinging symphony. By condensation into the Ancient Testament’s seven days of Creation, the making of the Earth is a highly dynamic drama. As its last act it tells us of the birth of man and woman, and of their happy life in the Garden of Eden in harmony with Nature. Until Eve, seduced by the Snake (by the way: why not Adam?), plucked that awful apple from the forbidden Tree of Wisdom. Followed by the expulsion of the disobedient couple from Paradise and the beginning of what we have named the process of Evolution. In due course and time, this process will lead mankind into the wide sphere of Culture, alienating us from Nature. But, patience! At the closed gates of Eden the expulsed Adam and Eve – the first nomadic or fugitive or displaced persons we know of – began their long migration to experience and explore the Earth. Thus, our restless ancestors have joined the world in its never ending motion. As I will try to explain, we have entered just another phase of changing times. It may serve as a consolation that being ‘on the move’ makes us share, somehow, the eternal cosmic migration of the world.
As our overall object of desire of this series of talks is “Art on the Move”, you may suspect that your present speaker is way off the track. Well, my modest introduction is meant to remind you of the fact that the arts are by no means a separate world inhabited by an autonomous population, named artists, rather an intrinsic part of our societies’ fate and history from the very beginning on. This becomes, in particular, obvious in our present time, and in regard of my specific subject matter. Whereas my co-speakers of these “Artalks” have certainly dealt with the situation, activity and identity of the artist in the light of mobility, my first and main concern is to analyse mobility itself, and from that point of view the origin of the nomadic artist and the structural impact contemporary nomadism in the arts has in times of globalization.
It is reported that Albert Einstein had to revoke his early concept of a cosmological constant from a time when he was still under the spell of the conventional static world view. He then called it a stupidity (Eselei). And he affirmed that, regarding Nature, one can’t speak of precise prognoses, only of probabilities. For this little talk, I want to take Einstein at his word: I will propose to you some selected probabilities on the subject of mobility, one of the most complex subjects imaginable. What else could match such a mercurial thing but speculation?
Let us begin with approaching some aspects and ideas regarding the nomadic world the way Evolution did, with pre-history. “Settledness”, states the writer Hans Magnus Enzensberger, “does not belong to the geneticly rooted qualities of mankind… Our primary existence is that of hunters, collectors and shepherds” (Enzensberger 1992: 10).
100000 years – very roughly speaking – since homo sapiens began his ‘great migration’ (possibly from Africa) to discover the Earth, opposed to roughly 10000 years of settled life as farmer and cattle-breeder: we are tempted to believe that the age-old genetic memory of our erstwhile nomadic existence is responsible for a powerful paradigm of restlessness and the call of the far-off, of romantic longing as well as of the Faustian urge to uncover the secrets of the world. During the millenia, the call was received and followed by generations of explorers, discoverers, seafarers, merchants, conquerers, colonists, missionaries and other globetrotters, to whom we owe the primal knowledge of the Earth’s natural beauties and wonders, as well as the cognition, maintenance and exchange of the world’s cultural treasures and heritage. This universal drive has, beyond any doubt, been strongly enhanced by the deep wound in our souls that we are all homines viatores travelling toward death.
The traveller and author on nomadism, Bruce Chatwin, who shared years of his life with Australia’s aboriginal people, was convinced that “nomads had been the crankhandle of history … if for no other reason than that the great monotheisms had, all of them, surfaced from the pastoral milieu …”. (Chatwin 1995: 31)
Of course, we shall not forget the historical figure of the vagrant artist, those e.g. from Scandinavia migrating to Germany and France, the German artists travelling to Italy etc.
A few names by way of illustration: Tischbein painting the famous portrait of Goethe stretched out on an antique stone in the Roman Campagna during the poet’s stay in Italy – both in search of the ideal classical past; Caspar David Friedrich and his friend, the Norwegian painter Johan Christian Dahl – both key-figures of the romantic discovery of the landscape throughout Europe. If here we are in the sphere of the 18th and early 19th centuries, we jump into the second half of the 20th century when joining Michel Tournier, the French author and his awareness of our globalizing world: He considers Robinson Crusoe to be “our great modern myth”. Remarkably enough, in his rewriting the story of Robinson he chooses Friday, the good savage, as its central figure: guide and midwife in the birth of a new human being. Friday represents the Third World. “He is the man from Africa, India, Latin America, who comes to us knocking at our door”. At the difference of his British predecessor and model, Tournier’s Robinson does not return home, he stays on his Pacific island whose inhabitants transform it into a cité solaire, a sun city. Robinson, a European pioneer of the affluent people’s migration, a late member of the Gauguin family. (Tournier 1972)
Before going more deeply into the modernist epoch in order to find out about its true, if controversial, entanglement with the notion of mobility, I want to take up Michel Tournier’s catchword of the “myth”.
“In the beginning was the Word” – this metaphor of Saint John’s opens his description of the origin of the world. The Word: in the greek translation of the gospel ó Λóγοs, should be understood in the idea’s ancient notion of μυθοs. In the beginning: the myth.
From the very beginning of our anthropogenesis or cultural evolution on, we humans have been inhabitants of our myths. They are the garment that has clad and protected us. They granted us stability and continuity within our constantly endangered physical existence. Myths and legends constituted the interchange with our ancestors: Australia’s aborigines have named them their songs, when – true to their nomadic forefathers – they follow on their peregrinations the mythical songlines.
Despite all evolutionary changes, our mythical condition has proved to be surprisingly stable. Its present analogy is the scientists’ technical term of an anthropological constant. By experience and habit registered in our consciousness, this constant grants attachment to those certitudes (however questionable they may be) which guarantee continuity or even survival. Our so-called reality is, if we follow the historian Egon Friedell, but “an optical illusion”. Yet, we are perceiving the world in the light of the stored content of our consciousness, assuring us of the solid materiality of the world.
The catalogue of those collective and individual myths is impressively large. In our context, we have to do with one of the most durable legends out of this big family: with the myth of the centre. The notion of the centre finds its origin in the theo-geo-centric cosmologies, refuted since Kopernikus and Galilei. Yet, this idea continues to resist its cancellation as it corresponds, appearently, with an inveterate nostalgia. The myth identifies centre and significance, centre and value. From the bourgeois milieu to euro-centrism, from inquisition to stalinism and the fascist millenium: there are endless attempts to reestablish the bygone theocracy, based on the power of propaganda – attempts to set one binding measure, one truth for all and everything. In the nicely polemic definition of Gilles Deleuze they read: “Human being, white, western, male, adult, sensible, heterosexual, city dweller, speaking a standard language” (Deleuze 1978). The longevity of the myth of the centre is all the more remarkable as our myths are naturally subject to history, as they are changeable. Our brain may be archi-conservative, its contents are subject to the course of time, in other words: to changing cultural influences. Here, we are all actors as well as victims. Yet, we are slowly becoming aware of the dwindling impact of our myth. We recognize the gradual erosion of former central values, of the hegemonial mentality. This process applies, not least, to so-called mainstream-institutions, for instance national museums, or state- and municipal theatres – their traditional status finding itself jeopardized, even threatened. On the other side, we have experienced and continue to experience the rise of alternative cultural forms and expressions. I am speaking of non-institutional artistic activities; of independent galleries; of alternative theatre-work and fringe theatres; of global transcultural music productions; of individual artistic or cultural projects transgressing cultural and disciplinary borders, and/or the borders between the private and the public space; of the tremendously growing importance of networks and networking. And, last but not least, I am speaking of the emergence of artist-in-residence centres and programmes.
Before getting back to that sphere of the nomadic artist, I am inviting you to another historical excursion. “The Turning Point” is the title of a remarkable book by Fritjof Capra. Having studied theoretical physics, this thinker’s main concern has been and is to reflect on the philosophical and social consequences of modern sciences. His message belongs to the growing number of voices making us understand that and why and how the world is changing, urging us to help it change in an ecological, sustainable and a holistic sense (Capra 1999). It cannot be denied that, through the modernist epoch’s breath-taking events, crimes and catastrophes, we have in many ways reached a dramatic turning point, indeed. We recognize it as a fundamental shift in the world’s machinery, reminding us of a similar climax in history: the French Revolution.
That dramatic rupture two centuries ago, dismissing a thousand years of hierarchic feudalism and clerical rule, opened the gate to modernity in the true sense of the word. Of course, it didn’t come out of the blue. Its main features were triggered by the past. One of the constituent elements of our modern times dates back to the gothic peoples’ painful experience that the christian God had abandoned the world. Imagine their wonderful cathedrals and domes: we do not go wrong in reading those splendid palaces for our Lord as desperate attempts to lure him back into the human community. Deus absconditus (to borrow a word of the gothic philosopher Nicolaus Cusanus), the hidden God, however, remained absent. Henceforth, the faithful suffered from an existential feeling that Georg Lukács has centuries later coined into the metaphor of transcendental homelessness. The suffering becomes an omnipresent element in the arts, in music and poetry. Moreover, it caused a decisive push in philosophy and cognition with such eminent thinkers as Descartes and his radical doubt, or Pascal, desperately aware of mankind being lost and vain, uncertain of God’s mercy. Certainty, on the other hand, was aimed at through developing the sciences by means of reason, logical thinking and systematic research. The pre-modernist modernity’s keyword, having maintained its impact up to now, will be found in the notion of the search. Search is indeed paradigmatic for the entire epoch. It is synonymous to the notion of the new or novus that marks conspicuously 17th century philosophy and science, both still regarded as identical. Thus, we may also speak of curiosity or Neugier, thirst for the new in my language. Search means Suche in german. This etymology links the word to Versuch, the english attempt or experiment, and to Untersuchung, the english research or analysis. Experiment and research are the direct outcome of that search for certainty. It equals movement or mental mobility.
Hence, there is no clear cut in history caused by the Great Revolution. Looking back to the 19th and 20th centuries, we see a divided world, European culture and civilisation torn by its inner conflicts, the powers of progress at permanent war with the powers of reaction and restoration. There is wide-spread alarm about the decline of age-old traditions and certainties on the one hand, and on the other a run for innovation gladly dismissing all handed-down values. It is not only a matter of collective experience. As we know from the practice of Doctor Freud, this conflict has a profound effect on individual people’s daily lives. We are facing an age of schisms and their therapists.
In 1927, Vassily Kandinsky – during his engagement as a teacher at the Bauhaus in Weimar and Dessau in Germany – published an essay with the simple title of “und” – and. The artist explains that – while the 19th century had been dominated by the either-or – the 20th century shall elaborate the and. Much later as Kandinsky predicted, we are only now leaving slowly behind the realm of the either-or – of opposed ideologies, of the dual order of the world, of a world clearly divided into centre and periphery or rather centres and peripheries. Only now are we gradually discovering the realm of the and, conjured by the artist.
We are anticipating the events, though. I stated that European modernism was torn by deep contradictions. They may be defined as the clash between present and past. We may also say: between our mythical condition and reality. Or rather – in our context – between mobility and immobility. Hegel considered his encyclopaedic work as a definite conclusion of occidental philosophy since the ancient Greek thinkers; above that he asserted that his era – and in particular the Prussian monarchy of his time – had reached the pinnacle of history. This may stand here as paradigmatic for 19th century’s immobility – letting alone the repeated attempts to restore former traditions and values. Among the epoch’s prominent innovations, however, there are two that lead us to the core of our modern times which they have radically influenced on a global scale: I am speaking about autonomy and mobility.
Autonomy is the state of mind of the post-revolutionary man liberated from traditional bonds and commitments toward secular and clerical rulers. Independent spirits had paved the way for autonomy since centuries. Jean Calvin and Martin Luther had replaced the rule and supervision of the Church by the self-control of each individual; Kant channeled this interiorized law by his vision of the free, yet morally acting person. For the first time ever, freedom equalled personal independence and self-determination. Both, protestantism or calvinism and Kant’s critical philosophy have been instrumental in giving birth to the European bourgeoisie. Bourgeois autonomy meant the freedom to deal independently and individually with one’s property. Here we have the real revolution, equalled only by the human rights, les droits de l’homme, declared in 1789 by the new National Assembly in Paris. Whereas the Middle Ages had considered the world as God’s Creation in which every single creature had been assigned his or her precise place and duty, and the people belonged to the land where they were born and lived, the British Enclosure Act of 1803 (an early element of the modernist avant-garde) has turned the millenial order upside down: from now on the land belonged to the people.
This new notion of personal property, made legal by a general right of ownership, corresponded to the concept of the autonomous citizen. The private owner was free to sell or purchase land that traditionally had been collective property. Henceforth, the Earth could be parceled out, transformed into a commodity, exchanged for money, made subject to financial speculation. In other words, the market-capitalism started its global and solid career (Jeremy Rifkin 2004: 149 ff). Capital means making money or – in the experts’ term – surplus value without working, be it with our hands or brain. But in the end one has to pay for it. Goethe, who lived the emergence of industry and capitalism, mentions a triple loss caused by them in his “Faust” (part two): The sense of the world’s beauty; the feeling of security; and the loss of happiness, replaced by the fear of the future – mainly of losing one’s money and possible profits. (Fischer 2004: 86)
There is evidence that the new economic order is responsible, in the first place, for the simultaneous rise of nationalism and the national state. Anyway, in this view the market’s function is to enable the free flow of private property, and the main function of the state to protect its citizens’ ownership rights.
Now, where is the causal connection between the autonomous society and mobility? On the one hand, there is the free floating capital, granting its owner a previously unheard-of independence and mobility. On the other hand, the large majority of the people were not able to act as competent players in that new market game. Those who could not afford to purchase the land where they lived were expelled from it. Some of the dispossessed masses were hired as farm hands by the new owners, most of them, however, joined the great trek of the migrants to the cities where the developing industry offered them jobs as wage labourers. This way, not only material goods, but labour mutated to a property, a commodity: time and physical energy could now equally be sold on the market. The proletariat is born. And with it the epoch’s most violent conflicts.
Thus, briefly, some facts about the origin and feature of the industrial society, a truly banal account, if it wouldn’t stand for the most radical rupture in history we can think of. The philosophers of Enlightenment, who may also be blamed for it, knew that the birth of the autonomous human being had to be payed by giving-up age-old roots and traditional bonds. However, let us return to Immanuel Kant, who – anticipating eternal peace for mankind – was far from sensing the rise of the either-or-world, of a class-society, of old Thomas Hobbes’ war of all against all (Bellum omnium contra omnes) surfacing anew. But he was clairvoyant enough to phrase six negative conditions in his philosophical draft “Toward Eternal Peace” that would block the way to reaching it. How right he was with his prophetic warning! Our highly controversial modern times have triggered off endless streams of migrants, displaced persons, refugees – either through expulsion, or wars between neighbours, or in search of labour and a decent life, which hasn’t come to a halt. You know better than I do that, beside my Berlin, your Cyprus is one of the late victims of that man-made syndrom, a sensitive artist, Kandinsky, had been conscious of some 80 years ago.
Whatever the reason and causes are, there are periods in history (as stated already) considered to be static, opposed to others that are determined by movement. Our present world and time – what is to be demonstrated – is marked by mobility in the term’s broadest sense. What are the main code words under the sign of Kandinsky’s and, of openess and difference? The global and the multiple in the first place, from where follows uncertainty and ambivalence, but also the adventure of exchange, interaction and synthesis. We are experiencing the diversity of cultures, of centres, of truths, and the relativity of values and value judgments.
Typically enough, it is once again the sciences that have not only uncovered the world to be ‘on the move’, rather this phenomenon’s ubiquity and integrity. As a result of Einstein’s theory of relativity, published in 1905, and of the discoveries of Max Planck, Werner Heisenberg and Niels Bohr a.o., generations of scientists have confirmed and deepened the view of the Earth and the cosmos as highly dynamic processes, thus dismissing the long-standing idea of our world as a static mechanism based on eternal iron laws. Neurobiologists are about to decode our brain as a complex dynamic system in a state of permanent flux. In order to describe those complex, integrative systems of life, scientists had to develop a new language. “Theory of dynamic systems”, or “theory of complexity”, or else “network-dynamics” are some of the alternative metaphors (Capra 1999: 10). Ervin Laszlo, the philosopher, system-scientist and futurologist, speaks of an evident shift in our world view from the former concept of being of the objects and phenomena (their Sein in my language), to their permanent developing or genesis (or Werden) since the nineties. (Laszlo 1997: 18)
The rapid cultural evolution having taught us that every thing and being is connected to all other elements and beings within our world’s restless movement in time and space – it goes without saying that the arts and the artists are an integral part of the universal dynamism. Allow me to return once more to the great Kandinsky, who was not only a master of the brush, but also of the pen. In 1910 he had finished writing down his thoughts “About the Spiritual in Art”. Looking back, he testifies how deeply the nuclear splitting has shocked him. “In my soul the decay of the atom equalled the decay of the entire world. Suddenly the thickest walls collapsed. All became insecure, shaky and soft. I would not have wondered to see a stone melt and become invisible in the air in front of me”. (Kandinsky … ) It is obvious that this shock made him also wonder about how the shaky world could possibly be represented in painting. It led him to discover the painterly abstraction. When, as expected, he was accused of betraying nature, Kandinsky defends his own understanding of the artist’s proximity to nature: “Abstract painting departs from the skin of nature, but not from its laws. Allow me a big concept: the cosmic laws”. And again: “The abstract painter gets his ideas not from any arbitrary piece of nature, but from nature as a whole, from its manifold manifestations, which add up inside him and lead to the work… Abstract painting is broader, freer and has more content than representational painting”. (Kandinsky 1952)
This early artist’s statement is representative of the modernist revolution in the arts, a natural consequence of the changes and upheaval in the scientific and social sphere.
Within the field of force of the either-or the arts were divided as well. Since the eighteen-eighties and nineties, a rapidly growing alternative and international movement in the arts became manifest and public in opposition against mainstream modernism. With a large number of manifestos, public actions and works of art, individual artists and artists’ groups on the periphery of the national art scenes have been rebelling against the sleep of reason and against the lies: against the asserted spirituality of timeless masterpieces by master artists; against the stockpiling of beautiful everlasting values in the neutral detachment of the museum; against a society that fancied itself as an imitator of historical styles and techniques whose truth content had long since evoporated …
The ruling classes had invented their double, their look-alike: the autonomous artist, producing autonomous art, a kind of mental monoculture. This museum art, as we may truly define it, has become the pacemaker of bourgeois culture, the construction of a separate realm of the soul, a retreat from everyday life of business, competition and progress. The sterile duality provoked the secessionists’ forming of a counterculture that was to catch hold of all areas of life. Thus, Guillaume Apollinaire was striving for “the great unfolding of our modern art”, which should mix with gestures, colours, screams and sounds “as in life”. We should take it for granted that the “artists all over the world” – to whom the Dutch group de Stijl addressed a message in 1918 -, artists sympathizing “with all those who are stuggling … to build an international unity of life, art, and culture” belong to the same mental family of the scientists who have discovered that space and time, energy and substance are the four qualities forming the unity of our material world. (Die Anderen Modernen 1997).
To cut a long story short, I am speaking of the Berlin and Vienna Secession and of the surrealists, of expressionism and of Neue Sachlichkeit (new matter-of-factness), of Dada, Fluxus and Arte Povera, of installation and situative art, of contextual art. I am speaking of artistic actionism and performance art, of the numerous examples of experimental and alternative theatre and film, of photography, media and mixed-media art, of alternative architecture and dance, etc. This short catalogue covers the period from early alternative modernism deep into the present post-modernist art scenes which all belong, grano cum salis and changes included, to the same tradition. Naturally, the borders between the arts have become fluid, if not inexistent, as the borders will be between the meanwhile 25 states of the European Union, that used to be sharply separated, if not at war with each other.
Introducing my talk, I spoke about probabilities and speculation, and about the impact of our myths. Truly, the enlightened people that we are, not believing in any allmighty originator or even in one powerful motor behind our history, we still know very little about the impetus which moves the world and mankind. How did mobility come to be one of our driving forces? Is it through economic interests? Is it the influence of philosophical or ideological directions? Are the natural sciences the real generator? How about the well-known slogan Männer machen Geschichte (men are making history)? Or is that fashionable shift of paradigms behind it? In his famous book “Das Prinzip Hoffnung” (the principle of hope) the philosopher Ernst Bloch, speaking about utopia (another one of our lost properties from the search-department), assumes it might finally herausprozessieren – meaning, it will eventually be the outcome of a long process. Well and good, let’s disregard the old riddle of the priority of hen or egg. We have most probably to do with a generating bundle of influences and circumstances.
In regard of the origin of the worldwide booming development of artist-in-residence programmes and centres, however, we do not hesitate to decode it as a natural, direct and necessary consequence of the alternative modernism in the arts that I have briefly outlined. In other terms: as part of the overall mobility which has seized the world on a global scale. Art on the move shall rather be defined as the artists being on the move. The creative person, the mentally and physically mobile and versatile individual dealing with our world as it is, he and she is the one that has moved and is moving the arts. The figure of the lonely genius in the splendid isolation of his studio, striving for transcendental beauty or purity, which is still haunting the collective imagination, is an outdated legend, no longer fit for the harsh reality. The nomadic artist, though, has for a long time returned to the market-places of the world. This material sphere of the here and now made him and her rediscover the conditioning impact of social and political factors, of human interrelation and interaction on the making of art. Contemporary artmaking is an art of communicating ideas and emotions, often by provocative or irritatiing concepts, objects and installations, in a tradition obliged to Marcel Duchamp, yet sometimes just conveying what Claire Bishop calls a convivial relationship between the artist and his audience (in her analysing the work of Rirkrit Tiravanija). Art is a medium. Instead of creating material objects, artmaking is focussed on its mediating power. That is why art today has mainly an interventionist, contextual and temporary or ephemeral character and why, most importantly, it can and shall happen anywhere. The studio of the nomadic artist is the world.
The invention and worldwide spreading of residential arts centres, roughly since the seventies, may be described as a strategy of supply and demand, to use the idiom of global economy. The new cultural unit corresponds indeed to the need of artists and intellectuals to experience the world and its many environments and cultures, the desire to realize on-site research and projects, to be temporarily part of creative communities, and to benefit from the opportunity they are offering of exchanging ideas and know-how.
But there is more than supply answering to demand. The creation of those new cultural instruments, their policy and programme, is – regarding its outstanding examples – also the fruit of a strong contemporary or postmodern idea. As it is based on the creative individual, the focus lies not on the presentation of artworks, but on production. As a rule, residential arts centres define themselves as artlabs or laboratories, equipped with machinery, technical and media studios, offering the opportunity for trial and error in artmaking. The core, maybe, of their philosophy is the rejection of any kind of monoculture. This results – firstly – in a transcultural policy of artists’ invitations; secondly, in their multidisciplinary structure, allowing transmedia cooperation. Networking is the better term for it, preferred for its universal appeal, meaning the crossing of national and cultural borders as well as of the borders between art and technology, art and the sciences – a central element in many residential programmes.
It was just a further step into the right direction when, in 1993, a solid number of residential arts centres formed their network in Berlin, named Res Artis, International Association of Residential Arts Centres, that since has constantly grown in size and scope. This fall, the association’s members will gather again in Berlin for their 10th conference, twelve years after the network’s foundation .
Let me, finally, mention one more important function of artist-in-residence centres: The nomadism of artists is naturally a concerted action of moving and settling in order to discover and to create, in order to renew one’s awareness and one’s formal responses. “The nomad”, Gilles Deleuze states, “is not necessarily someone who moves: there are travels in which one does not move, travels in intensity, … nomads (are) those who start nomadizing in order to stay in the same place and free themselves from codes”. (Deleuze 1980: 69)
Apollinaire, Guillaume (1956): Les Mamelles de Tirésias (1917), in: Oeuvres poétiques, Paris: Pléiade
Capra, Fritjof (1999): Lebensnetz, München: Droemer
Chatwin, Bruce (1995): Traumpfade, Frankfurt am Main: Fischer
Deleuze, Gilles (1980): Kleine Schriften, Berlin: Merve
Die Anderen Modernen (1997): Catalogue of the exhibition, Haus der Kulturen der Welt Berlin, Heidelberg: Edition Braus
Enzensberger, Hans Magnus (1992): Die Große Wanderung, Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp
Fischer, Ernst Peter (2004): Die Andere Bildung, Berlin: Ullstein
Kandinsky, Vassily (1952): Über das Geistige in der Kunst, Bern: Benteli
Laszlo, Ervin (1997): Kosmische Kreativität, Frankfurt am Main und Leipzig: Insel
Rifkin, Jeremy (2004): Der Europäische Traum, Frankfurt am Main/New York: Campus
Tournier, Michel (1972): Vendredi ou les limbes du Pacifique, Paris: Gallimard
Dr. Michael Haerdter is a freelance writer and curator and the first president of Res Artis
This talk given in Nicosia, Cyprus in April 2005