#Dalí Wooden Puzzle

[the-fundamental-acts]

Paranoia as a design process

“It's not doubt that makes you mad, but certainty”. Nietzsche

Critical-Paranoid Method, New York Délir, Rem Koolhaas (1978).

Paranoia is based on a type of thinking that redirects every fact to confirm its own biases. This is why the paranoid is always right. His distrust, inability to correct himself, and conviction are the ingredients for an activity that ties up all the details to confirm his conspiracy theories.

However, thanks to the ability to link unrelated events, and at the same time being diagnosed as a mental illness, paranoia was seen as a creative and refreshing new possibility.

Paranoia was an extraordinary way of stitching together the different realities that the early 20th century had to deal with. Dalí, dreamer of forms, was the inventor of a system based on this disorder which he called “the paranoid-critical method” (or MPC). He described it as "a spontaneous method of irrational knowledge based on the critical and systematic objectivity of associations and interpretations of delusional phenomena".

After we made all the possible logical associations, the critical paranoid method assumed the possibility of linking the impossible. So it was an invincible glue. It had a capacity of adhesion which made it possible to sew the background with the figure, the forms with their hardness or their textures, and the images with their shadows... However, unlike collage, the MPC has the power to make two ideas react different in explosive chemical reaction. Even the Cartesian and Corbusian criticisms could not serve as an extinguisher or a tame. It is therefore not surprising that it took so many years to apply it to architecture.

It was Rem Koolhaas, in 1978, who took it up in his book “Delirious New York” through this illustration of soft amorphous softness, supported by a wooden crutch. Dreamlike, absurd and unprovable conjectures had to be upheld with the stick of critical Cartesian rationality, according to Koolhaas. In reality, the paranoid critical method was a therapy for architecture and a way of reviewing one's own logic. Moreover, he avoided talking about consistency. It was like cheating "forcing a piece in a puzzle to fit, even if it doesn't."

“Through conceptual recycling, the consumed and spent content of the world can be recharged or enriched like uranium, and […] a simple process of interpretation will create an inexhaustible reservoir of false facts and evidence. invented” – Rem Koolhaas, New York Delirium, p.241

Of course, once the paranoia sets in, there's no one to stop these interpretations: wasn't that soft shape the concrete, and that wooden support the formwork? Or the relationship between enclosure and structure? Or the flowing Camembert that Dalí had stumbled upon in his fridge in the middle of the night, which struck him instantly and led him to create his famous painting “The Persistence of Memory”? Hence Dalí's double-image theory, which can be read simultaneously in at least two different ways, but which potentially only has a limit where the paranoid interpretation of the viewer ends. It is about the phenomenon which makes it possible to read a recognizable form in an abstract matter such as Dalí created with his melted watches, his canapes in lips or his deformed animals.

The Persistence of Memory, Salvador Dalí (1931).

The successes of the critical paranoid method seem almost forgotten today. Because today, it is difficult to explain certain contemporary works (Brandlhuber, Valerio Olgiati, Johnston Marklee and even Smiljan Radic) without seeing some of these paranoid critical gestures appear.

Therefore, when we see those brief nonsensical explosions or certain crazy things in a corner, we have to look closely, because it may not be the gesture of mere exaggeration or graceful forgetfulness, but the small chemical explosion produced by critical paranoid method.

Antivilla, Potsdam (Germany), Brandhulber+ (2014).

Pavilion for the Serpentine Gallery, London, Smiljan Radic (2014).

[twistednuns]

August 2020

My students all told me that they'd be watching Outer Banks over the holidays, a US teen drama. I got curious and now I'm hooked. Another excellent series I binge-watched is The Umbrella Academy. For me it was one of the greatest moments in TV history when Klaus shared a piece of wisdom as a guru and told his devotee: Don't go chasing waterfalls.  Stick to the rivers and the lakes that you're used to. (the divine TLC lyrics)

Finally finishing my macrame hanging planter. Cleaning up the balcony and my apartment. Listening to the rain from bed.

The Happy Medium winery has amazing branding. Two eyes to look - one eye to see.

A really nice, solitary summer evening after a very frustrating, infuriating afternoon (nobody wanted to go swimming with me and I felt all the feelings and was too stubborn and lazy to go alone - very mature). After a 4-hour-nap I made some roasted veggies with tsatsiki, lit some candles outside and enjoyed my meal in the dark.

Learning about malaphors.

I just found out that my favourite French summer comedy of all times, Les Petits Mouchoirs, has a sequel!!! I'm so excited. Need to organise a movie night asap. [edit: We watched it in Ibiza and it was perfect! Need to see it again asap.]

I made a crazy delicious pot of rice the other night. It was more like a risotto with lemon and white wine. Roasted vegetables with lemon oil. I wanted to add parmesan but frankly, that would have ruined it. And that says a lot about the quality of a dish in my opinion!

Getting out of bed in the morning. Starting to organise, declutter, throw stuff out. Very grateful for past me. I love it when I'm in the mood for tasks I usually put off.

My very own custom-made bottle rack. I couldn't find anything fitting so I just made one myself and it's perfect.

Finding out what okra plants actually look like. I'd always assumed they grow like green beans.

Drinking Aperol Spritz on Becky's balcony. Talking about boobs, embarrassing her kids, looking at a friendship book her colleagues had given her as a parting gift. Cake, a tour of Rosi's Playmobil empire, talking about the expression of psychological issues through art. Talking non-stop, in fact. We often don't even manage to finish a topic and jump from thought to thought.

A hardware store date with Manu on a Friday evening. At sunset. Flowers, soft hugs. Trying on hats, finding the right things. Him walking home, me on a bike, jousting with the wooden stick I had just bought, singing. Ending up outside an Italian restaurant, ordering truffle oil pizza. And the gorgonzola. Oh my.

A fantastic bi-anthem from the TV show Crazy Ex-Girlfriend.

An afternoon at Maria Einsiedel. With Diego, Lorena and Daniela. But I met Claudia on the subway and she also wanted to go swimming so we just went together. So we kinda reconnected? We all sat in one place, Manu L. and Frank as well. Floating down the Eiskanal was perfect. And in the end I spent the whole evening with Frank and Claudia. Interesting development. Somehow people keep coming back into my life this month.

Harvesting my very own sun-ripened tomatoes.

An afternoon at the lake in Feldmoching with Sash and Lena. Naked dancers, serious volleyball seniors, jelly shoes. The story about flesh-eating pineapple. Chocolate-orange muffins and leftover salad. An accidental wasp-murder (it was drenched in oil so I had to put it out of its misery). Talking about moaners (or: when men are really loud during sex). And about getting old and lazy. I really want a beach chair now. Posture, eh? And comfort. Yeah, comfort.

"We gain sustenance from nature’s regeneration." An article about the therapeutic power of gardening. I absolutely have to read Sue Stuart-Smith's book which they're discussing. Warm-colored kilims hung from ancient rafters above a seating area furnished with tapestry-upholstered couches, sculptures perched on tables, and tall bookcases. The space had the atmosphere of Freud’s famous analytic study, but on a giant scale. A huge picture window framed the countryside beyond. An enormous honeysuckle, which looked as if it had flourished as long as the Stuart-Smiths’ marriage, climbed a dark, shingled wall and crept over the roof.

Dreaming about being held tightly. A warm embrace. The perfect energy exchange. Feeling protected and loved.

An evening at the outdoor cinema in Munich's Westpark with my boys Frank and Manu. We watched a rather forgettable French comedy but I loved spending time with those two. I felt at ease, protected, special. Always a plus: Krupuk ASMR!

Spending time with my mum. Harvesting blackberries for breakfast. Going to the healthfood store together. Looking for an e-bike and swimming goggles for me. Talking about my brother, my dad. Issues. Dinner on the veranda. Picking some of her crystals to take home with me. Very lovely and peaceful.

An extremely lazy week in Ibiza. Getting up early (German programming, we can't help it), far too much breakfast food (fresh juice, fruit, lovely Spanish hazelnuts and my own personal chef to make me pancakes and omelettes). Snorkelling - playing with an octopus and hermit crabs, finding little treasures like a dead sea urchin and shiny sea shells. Diving through caverns. Nursing a bad sunburn. Reading the new Hank Green novel on the hotel veranda (it's such a good book again). A dip in the luke-warm pool once in a while. Cooling down in our room. Heading out for dinner. Drinking red wine. Falling asleep early.

Climbing up a hill. Watching the sunset on the cliffs with a bottle of rosé. Gorgeous.

Nightswimming (deserves a quiet night). Jumping into the pitch-black Mediterranean in our underwear after eating black paella (with squid ink). Humming the R.E.M. song accordingly.

Suddenly speaking Spanish. Well, broken Spanish, but they mostly get what I mean.

A huge glass of iced coffee after a long cycling tour. Lots of ice cubes and vanilla ice-cream. Lounging on the outside sofa. After having an outside shower. Nice.

Drinking red wine on a candlelit veranda. Playing my summer jam playlist.

Lots of animals. Watching the lizards fight each other. And the goats across the road. Cuddling with a needy cat in San Ferran. And Jaco the dog who belongs to the guitar workshop's owner.

Pizza night at the workshop. a) I love places that smell like wood and oil, places that are really lived in and you can see that people actually spend time and work there. Creative chaos. b) Damian, one of the teachers there, is man candy. Long, black hair and icy blue eyes.

The night sky over Formentera. You can actually see the Milky Way and shooting stars here.

Empty beaches. The dunes. Snorkelling. Spending time underwater has a very calming effect on me. It's like entering a different universe.

Creative projects. Flow. I was completely in my zone when I was building an octopus out of sand on the beach. Forgetting about time. Discomforts. The sun. Just digging in the sand with my bare hands. But I also played around with watercolour and chalk, made some pencil drawings, for example a still life with grapes and twigs from the garden. I developed some solar photographs, too. Experimenting is fun!

Alone time. I've been craving it so much lately. Being around 4 people all the time is incredibly exhausting for me. I'm not used to it at all.

Solving the New Yorker crossword puzzle one Friday morning.

Having Pomadas at Kiosko 62 during sunset. Really chill vibes. Getting drunk quickly. Taking selfies. The sea, the sun, some hippies. Nice.

Preparing dinner together. Singing along to the music. Feeling the effect of the sunset cocktails. It's interesting to see how much my usually so restrained friends change with a few sips of gin.

The availability of truffle products in Spain. Cheese, crisps, oil... I love it.

Talking about artists' muses with Flo - mostly Gala Dalí and Françoise Gilot.