Museion Bulletin #5
➡️The act and art of deep, galactic listening
by Rosalyn D’Mello
A brown immigrant finds herself at the foot of a circular totem, one member of an assembly of sculptural ‘beings’. A sensation of awe creeps up on her, stealing into her body’s pores, arousing in her bloodstream the peculiar gush usually evoked by the quietly colossal: imprints of nectar on an unfurling leaf; the raging solitude of snow-covered Alpine peaks; a gathering of magnolia trees in a state of ecstatic bloom—that once-a-year vision that suspends disbelief; chestnut forests in spring, bursting forth fresh chlorophyll; the trunks of oak trees downplaying their majesticity; the earthy resilience of moss-covered rocks. Instances of the ordinary-everyday miraculous.
Read the full article - link in bio
➡️Museion Bulletin
Museion Bulletin is a trilingual online magazine that accompanies Museion’s program. Giving voice to experts from inside and outside the institution, each edition explores a specific, contemporary theme related to current exhibitions and projects, and brings together personal perspectives, ranging from recollections to exchanges of opinion to interdisciplinary connections, with a unique point of view.
Photo credits: Daniele Fiorentino
#bulletin #museionacademy #adolfvallazza #100
@maravix@caterinalongokb@rosad1985@dannyhomesick
The Mole & the Garden
by Kira Kessler
Talk: Kira Kessler & Rosalyn D’Mello
04.10. at 19:00
Exhibition opening hours
Daily from 29.09-08.10
11:00-18.00
Schloss Gandegg
Piganó 17, 39057 Appiano
In einer Tätigkeit restlos aufzugehen, Zeit und Ort zu vergessen und in den eigenen Gedanken zu verweilen, beschreibt das beglückende Gefühl einer völligen Vertiefung. Dieses sogenannte Flow-Erlebnis ist kein einfaches Unterfangen als Mutter, was bedeutet, ständig auf Abruf und dauerhaft abgelenkt zu sein.
Die Ausstellung "Mole and Garden" ist nach einer der noch nie gezeigten Werke Kira Kesslers benannt, in denen die Textildesignerin Erfahrungen von Mutterschaft und die einhergehende Symbiose, die sie humorvoll mit einem Maulwurf und seinem Garten umbeschreibt, einarbeitete.
Im Dialog zu den Arbeiten Kesslers steht die Studie "In The Name of the Mother", der Autorin, Kunstkritikerin und Kolumnistin Rosalyn D´Mello, in der sie die intellektuellen und kreativen Fähigkeiten, die vornehmlich von Frauen und in der Privatsphäre des Hauses entstehen, in Zusammenhang mit der Arbeit zeitgenössischer feministischer Künstlerinnen stellt.
#kirakessler #rosalyndmello #artisttalk #textildesign #textilewerke #eauetgazresidency #bolzanoartweeks #schlossgandegg
As I dwell on one year of motherhood, one year of co-dependency, co-regulation, co-sleeping, dreaming, waking, loving, laughing, and the gamut of accompanying emotions and verbs, I found myself gravitating towards this image @bhashaalways took of me when she visited us some months ago. Because it somehow captures my experience of parenthood.
I don't agree that time flies. It appears so superficially. I have felt every second in my bones. All my memories of J are already nestled within the very fibre of my being. I enjoy him so much.
Cannot wait for him to meet the rest of my family. It's been too long a wait.
#FirstBirthday
The Tirol Panorama is a museum of questionable intentions, an unadulterated ode to the relationship between patriarchy, religious zeal, and Tirolean jingoism, signified through the over-pedestalised figure of Andreas Hofer. And so I was surprised when I sighted what appeared like a red lacquer-glazed turtle. It was tucked away in one of the Wunderkammer displays with a series of other objects of folk-historical value. The caption drew my attention, “Gebärmutterkröte,” (‘Uterus or Womb-toad’), it read, a wax votive for help with birth and female disorders, modelled after an old model from the 400-year-old Lebkuchen-making Cafe Hipp in Pfaffenhofen, Bavaria. Alongside it was a Stachelkugel, a needle ball. Both votive objects personified the uterus.
I was pregnant at the time, and was therefore doubly drawn to this conceptual figuration of the elastic organ that enlarging daily. My working thesis, the core of my residency at Künstlerhaus Büchsenhausen, was titled, "In the Name of the Mother". These objects therefore felt charmed, touched by both chance as well as circumstance. I learned later that they were common offerings at wayside shrines (The Kröte in North Tirol, the Stachelkugel in South Tyrol), but went out of vernacular circulation when they got fetishized by collectors, because of which they now only exist in Museumised form.
If this model I had sighted came from a Lebzelterei, was Lebkuchen ever made out of it? What could it mean to make the uterus edible? Especially considering the German word for Placenta translated to Mothercake. Could we make kekse (cookies) out of this Gebärmutterkröte?
Upon my request, my artist friend Marlene Hausegger baked a clay replica fashioned from photographs and her visit to the vitrinised display. Veronika Riedl, who works at Büchsenhausen, coordinated the design of a 3D-printed mould by Stefan Strappler (Fablab), and commissioned, on my behalf, the konditorei, Munding to subsequently bake Gebärmutterkröten kekse, which were served at the exhibition opening.
So excited about my final public event before my transition into Motherhood, in collaboration with the Traminer Dorfmuseum and @kunstlerhaus_buchsenhausen
Einladung zur Traminer Marmeladen-Blindverkostung
Im Juli 2021 habe ich mein künstlerisches Projekt “Traminer Marmeladen-Almanach” begonnen, in dem ich meine Faszination für die traditionelle Traminer Kultur der Marmeladenherstellung und der damit verbundenen Praktiken zu erkunden versuche. Ich hatte damals einen Aufruf im “Traminer Dorfblatt” veröffentlicht, in dem ich die Traminerinnen und Traminer bat, sich mit mir in Verbindung zu setzen und ihre persönlichen Marmeladen(geschichten) zu teilen. Dank der Großzügigkeit vieler Spender ist meine Marmeladensammlung im Laufe von Sommer und Herbst stetig gewachsen. Viele haben mich in ihre Küchen eingeladen, mir Einblicke ermöglicht, mit mir Gespräche über ihren persönlichen Weg in die Welt der Marmeladen geführt, Erinnerungen geteilt oder mit mir Früchte und Beeren gesammelt. Ich bin unglaublich dankbar für all die gezeigte Gastfreundschaft und nun ist es an der Zeit, diese zu erwidern.
In Zusammenarbeit mit dem Hoamet Tramin Museum und dem Künstlerhaus Büchsenhausen (Innsbruck) lade ich zur großen Traminer Marmeladen-Blindverkostung ein: am Freitag, den 11. Februar im Museumsstube von 14 bis 17 Uhr. Alle Traminerinnen und Traminer sind herzlich eingeladen, die angebotenen Traminer Marmeladen blind zu verkosten und die verarbeiteten Beeren und Früchte zu erraten.
Eine Anmeldung ist nicht notwendig! Es wäre aber für einen reibungslosen Ablauf hilfreich, mir euren bevorzugten Zeitraum vorab mitzuteilen, damit wir im Sinne der geltenden Corona-Bestimmungen die Verkostungen in den begrenzten Räumlichkeiten zeitlich gut aufteilen können. Es wäre mir eine Freude, euch bewirten zu dürfen und an dem Projekt teilhaben zu lassen.
Wer meint, dass ihre oder seine Marmelade oder Gelee bei der Veranstaltung nicht fehlen darf, kann sich gerne noch mit mir in Verbindung setzen, am besten per Whatsapp auf der Nummer +39 3285904385. Ich freue mich auf Euer Kommen! Rosalyn D’Mello
Hinweis: Gemäß den geltenden Bestimmungen ist ein 2G-Nachweis (geimpft, genesen) für eine Teil
It's so intricate and unpredictable how certain longings register on the tongue when one is compelled to be away from one's homeland of origin. Beyond the Bombay-Goan kitchen I find myself craving flavours that informed my personhood. Sabhudhana vadas remain a testimony to my osmotic relationship with the Maharashtrian kitchen, to which I was first introduced through the dabbas (lunch boxes) of friends in School. Many were happy to exchange my ladi pav with salami for their Sabhudhana khichdi. Those tapioca pearls felt like a mystery to me, their swell, their translucency, their capacity to absorb the butteriness of peanuts, and how well they married with potatoes.
At my reading at Lungomare on Thursday, I decided to cook these vadas for those in attendance. With Ada and Veronika's assistance, I made 98 of them, and served them with a sweetened yoghurt dip meant to mimic Shrikhand, and a mint-coriander chutney. I also made a Lemon rice, something my mother often made with leftover rice in a version that was more her than inherited from the South Indian kitchen.
It was humbling to have so many people in the audience, friends, acquaintances and strangers. And I was elated to find that everything was finished.
I've been officially commissioned by Südtirol to execute my dream art project, which I'm calling "Traminer Marmeladen-Almanach"; a year-long documentation of Traminer jam-making traditions and the eco-system that supports the art form. Yesterday the formal announcement was published in the Traminer Dorfblatt. I'm hoping I'll be welcomed to kitchens and cellars so I can do some interviews and make photographs for the publication I have planned. I'm also hoping Traminers will collaborate with me to create a Marmeladen-Archiv which will culminate in a jam tasting event. It's exciting. I'm excited. Wish me luck.
The portrait of me is special, it was taken by Silke, in the Egatman kitchen. I miss her so!
@tramin_@biggi.for@flock_ey@juliahermeter@greta.oberhofer@isi.weis@eva.kaneppele@koter_it@antonalirio@peer.janarita
Last weekend was elevated, to say the least. A generous wedding gift from @beatrixforadori and @martinforadori enabled my acquaintance with the site of these mystical stone assemblages that seem more like gender-less beings than stone men to me. No one can say, authoritatively, how they came to be, or who was responsible for their form. Many accounts credit shepherds. But why not shepherdesses? The weather cross is a prayer against hail. There is an account of a woman who was persecuted for allegedly practising witchcraft here, but there is no trace of this on any sign. The legend of the Stoanerne Mandln sculptures hold more narrative sway, I suppose, than the crime of witch hunting.
At @terrathemagicplace we unwound and spent time together ahead of our expected time apart. I'm already en route to Venice for the final intensities of my mentorship duties at @oceanspaceorg I soaked in the views of The Dolomites from the whirlpool, amazed by the thought that they were once coral reefs, that what we trek within and upon was once undersea. I'm still working to dissolve the distinctions between land and water, to think of solidity as potentially also liquid that can hold me without swallowing my being.
On Saturday evening, from 7.15 until 11.15 we surrendered ourselves to the innumerable courses served to us at the two Michelin star @terrathemagicplace ; a moving culinary discourse evangelising the cause of hyper local and micro ecological food cultures through ingenious experimentation by the chef, Heinrich Schneider.
Everyday I feel blessed to be among such aesthetic and culinary bounty. I fail to understand how I managed to spend so many years divorced, more or less, from nature. It is a luxury to eat eggs that come from farmers we know, to eat vegetables grown by B's aunts, to have fresh jams and local wild honey harvested by relatives and neighbours. And to finally walk up and down a mountain trusting I will be held by the earth-sea. To have both feet planted in soil.
#Weekendgetaways #Sarnthal #Südtirol #TerratheMagicPlace
By the end of 2020 Teaching began to feel like a calling. I hesitate to use the word because it implies unidirectionality. I reference it as shorthand. I wanted, more intensely than ever before, to enter the realm of pedagogy in order to distort it, in order to subvert our institutionally conditioned understandings of where discourse is allowed to happen, and who is invited to participate.
My own lack of institutional pedigree disqualifies me from various potentially well-paying positions that could enable me to practice my numerous callings from a space of financial security. I decided, in January 2021, that if noone was interested in inviting me to teach, I would create these opportunities myself. I reached out to many people, many of whom responded with eagerness. Since then, I've "taught" two month-long sessions on the personal essay, and four different iterations of Metabolic Art Criticism. But only last weekend was I able to do it with the most agency. In person. In a garden, the magical @angerburg_blumenhotel thanks to the interventions of @sarahoberrauch and @oberrauchkathrin of @eauetgaz_residency .
I had the most incredible bunch of participants who lived together over three days and who shared so much of themselves with me and each other. Since our final session, by the pool, last Sunday, I've had this resting feeling of immense hope. We shared such a powerful energy and really nestled in our togetherness. Cooking together, drinking together, dancing together. I hope to be able to facilitate more such intimate encounters.
If anyone is keen, I'll soon share information about my next online course facilitated by @berlinartinstitute which is accessible on their website. It's a month-long course that'll help you approach the personal essay.
#MetabolicArtCriticism
Yesterday evening I attempted what had seemed previously inconceivable to me. I left my apartment in Castello and waltzed off in the direction of Stazione Santa Lucia to catch the 18.22 train that would return me to Südtirol. As a person self-diagnosed with cartographic dyslexia, it was liberating to finally feel confident enough to not once need to consult Google maps. This was my third trip to Venice since I was offered accomodation there as part of my mentoring role at @oceanspaceorg On Wednesday, my partner and I finally went up the bell tower of San Giorgio Maggiore and were totally astonished by the complexity of the panoramic view. The next evening, after an unexpectedly poignant meal with acquaintance-turned friends in Ghetto, some kind of alignment came to pass between my feet, the Venetian streets, and the relation between the various Sestiers. As I traverse different notions of domesticity between the Alps and the Lagoon there are frequent moments of disbelief. I often cannot say how or why I am the recipient of so much unasked for grace and hospitality, or how I am mentor to astonishing fellows, or the warmth of the larger Ocean Space and @tba21academy team. The last few months and weeks have been filled with intensities, and working with oceanic modes of thinking has kept me sane through my exile from the homes of my origin. I am still learning to embody swimming thinking.
More than a year has passed since I last saw my mother. Everyday the time span widens, as does the uncertainty of when we might be reunited. It's not incidental that my personal research is moving in directions that consider, acknowledge, and celebrate maternal legacies. I never imagined my mother wouldn't be physically present at my wedding. But not a day has gone by where I haven't actively utilized behavioural gestures coded within the "conceptual trousseau" she bequeathed to me as part of her life's work.
As someone now making a home for herself a continent away from my place of origin, I seek recourse in the same strategies of emotional resourcefulness I witnessed her devising all her life as she rehabilitated herself in elsewhere worlds, forming relationships wherever she went. I miss my mother's energy. I miss the bond my sister and I share with her, our mother-daughter conspiracies.
Happy Mother's Day Mamma!
