Das braune Desaster
"Das braune Desaster" refers to a historical event that occurred in the late 19th century in Berlin. For the first time, waterworks pumped groundwater to meet the growing demands of the city. Unknown at the time was the iron-rich character of groundwater in the region. Rust formed as the water was brought to the surface and came in contact with air. For several months, a great part of the city lost access to drinkable water, forcing the waterworks to once again use lakes as its source. Through analysis scientists finally identified the presence of iron in the groundwater. To alleviate the impurity, the water was oxidized, causing the iron to flake, and was then filtered. To this day the water system in Berlin is structured on a similar principle.
"Das braune Desaster" explores technical innovation and new processes that yield unexpected unsatisfying results. Growth and expansion are accompanied by a certain spirit of exhilaration. But insufficient knowledge sometimes causes systems to fail with calamitous results. Communities relying on these unverified processes are vulnerable and can thereby become casualties of progress.
Kumasch
This body of work began when I visited a fabric shop called Kumasch for the first time.
Kumasch is an adaptation of the Turkish word kumaž (which means fabric) into a German sounding word.
The shop is located in an old storage building directly by the railway and is often visited by fashion students from all the schools in Berlin. The shop is organized into fabrics types but also a range of heated and unheated rooms, by which it is possible to imagine that they co-ordinated the carpet colours accordingly. I mainly photographed in the first room.
When I think of the shop, the heating system is one of its principal characteristics, metal tubes hang from the ceiling expelling warm air without any kind of filter, switching on and off every once in a while.
By the counter there's a radio, which one immedialty notices because as one passes it by, it untunes. Close to the radio there are always two or three tulip like tea glasses.
Right behind the counter there is a door with a mirror on it. I am not allowed to go in there, as it is the administration room. Though I could see it from the outside. There isn't much apart of a bright wooden closet, a round table and some chairs. The floor is covered of linoleum. The first time I saw the room, the owner and an older employee were sat at the table eating bread and drinking coffee.
Working in the shop there are two men and a trainee. Usually the owner comes later and spends most of the time talking on the phone. Unlike the other staff, he always wears a cap. Between them, they mainly speak Turkish, rarely do they use German. I cannot understand Turkish but I can see by the way they talk and laugh that they are having a good time together. The younger employee acts flirtatiously, especially if there is a girl around. Most of the time he talks with a smile on his lips, busily measuring and cutting the fabrics that someone has chosen to buy. We get along with each other.
Far out lapses
Striving for order and precision in the everyday, simple daily tasks can seem endless. Although habitual nothing repeats. We drift into thoughts and day dreams, losing concentration, turning each action into a unique task.
The project depicts a series of everyday situations that I consider to be unique. By looking at some of these daily tasks we focus on the idea of uniqueness as unrepeatable. In their simplicity daily tasks will be done automatically, while thousands of other thoughts, worries or future plans cross our minds.
Though habitual and precise, tasks will be done differently. As the circles described with the hand while whipping the table will never repeat twice or the shirts in the wardrobe not folded in the same way. Although the tasks are simple, they can take time to complete. A momentary lapse in concentration makes things unique.