From: Binter Babel
Category: Other stuff
Date: 28 September 2001
" I want to construct a house near a clean river when it is warm, to open to the windows shades of the shrubs like paintings to listen to flowing of the river forgetting the worldly thing. a traveller comes to enjoy this landscape the fishermen return to his houses, until a traveller comes to enjoy this mountain and this river, luckyly, being the wide and long river, I do not hear the noise of the world and wanted that the fishermen were not and returned so many times because I fear that people know this place and they open it to the world."
This poem of Yang Paeng-Son (or Hankp'o) who lived in the Korea of the S.xvi, is the only information that it wanted to include Ian Kiaer in the invitation to his sample, and is also the best introduction to the same one that we can do from here. Hankp'o, like so many personages to whom Kiaer admires, constructed really its sufficiently isolated ideal house of the world, but it did it only after trying to make a common utopia. The space between those apparently contradictory wills of construction: the social intervention or the productive and individualistic retirement, feeds the work on Kiaer. One tells that Hankp'o before beginning to construct that house in which it would continue creating only for himself, used to be every day with its teacher Cho Kwang Cho to discuss the bases of a new society that first of all recognized the value of the human life, and that had justice and the communal property as I put: Kwang Cho finished its days executed by the king, because some of their disciples wanted to happen to the action with the good ideas and they did not find ears nor patience on the part of the power. Hankp'o was witness of the envenenamiento of its teacher, and since then it retired to the stop, perhaps to the place that painted accompanying the mentioned poem: a valley dimmed with high hills and a river that is lost slowly in meanders with a boat sliding from the houses of the shore. The crossing that makes act to Kiaer is then that in which a deprived architecture, we would say personnel than domestic more, and in relation although she is evasive with the historical world, arises from, or thanks to, great, utópicas ideas - and therefore, never made -. This phase angle do not have to ***reflx mng themselves like a frustration, but on the contrary like an accomplishment of the intensity of the utopia and the ideas in another scale; a force that is strained in the spaces that will be inhabited by the own constructor. Ideal projects public, political ideas, are materialized then in small for that are able to see them. Located or in that crossing we understand that the way of Kiaer the Tarkovski de Solaris or Sacrificio enters like companions, - the importance of its houses and the way of constructing them and of inhabiting them in relation to the world -; Curzio Malaparte, - its political life and the intensity whereupon its house in Capri faces the sea -; or even several Constructivistas Russian with its small scale models and monumental ideas. All this we must see sifted it with the microscopic conformismo of the glance of Kiaer that requests to us, so far, an imagination that we put without effort, and that makes us enter its scale models filled with minimum details and something of humor. Kiaer at the moment, while it does not begin to construct with intensity his own house, has sufficient with poor or found materials which it makes see with other eyes and on scale. Thus it did it in Manifiesta 3 of Liubliana, or in New Contemporaries99: Wrinkled papers can be simply installed in relation to other elements, but in them we will imagine, like in a scale model, the structural formulas that make their balance possible, and will enjoy its marks, in which the news of a world perhaps hide that moves away. Sticky tapes in the ground indicate the scale of the way that are us to take to the distant house: perhaps this one is a hamburger box or one of fish, invested, still dismissing mitológicos scents: these we will see them like vaults of very complex construction in which we could live. Of the ground to the ceiling of the gallery capacity occurs to a universe populated with cardboard palaces. When the world seems to be far, it is because an intense glance has retired it per moments, and the cardboard, like for the boy, seriously lets be it.
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