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PYGMALION PUNK (10): Asger Jorn

continuation of the epistolary novel: Punk Pygmalion (1-9 Here: )


the last letter of Ansgar at Emmi from December 1983, I figured over a month in the blog. I could make many excuses why I have the publication of the letters until interrupted. The truth is that I needed time to deal with my conflicting feelings. My friend Emma had me passed in November 2010, a shoe box full of letters to it in the mid 80s Ansgar, a Punk from Copenhagen, wrote. Emmi, who had just separated from her husband , met Ansgar again a little later after more than 20 years ago and the old passion inflamed. What Emmi band so hard to Ansgar, not revealed to me these letters. The possessive tone Ansgar and the memory of the eerie transformation of the young Emma after meeting with him rather frightened me to indefinite way. other hand, showed me these letters, however much Ansgar had come by his feelings for Emma then out of kilter.

Emmis breathless protestations on the phone, as she was happy with Ansgar, could not resolve my discomfort. I waited to see her again, face to face. Last week we met in Kassel to a "Sleeping Beauty weekend. When Emma got in Kassel-out of the ICE, I hardly recognized her again. She looked younger by several years, so alive and sparkling. Ansgar, who made the 17 year old in the 80's to dark punk produced, this time apparently the reverse effect: from the careworn Mitvierzigerin was a jubilant beaming become lovers.

Dangerous Kissing

We enjoyed the weekend, but we talked less about Ansgar, as I had hoped. Emmi seemed to have no need for it and I found it difficult as they used to ask directly. Only at parting, she asked me: "Do not listen to to publish the letters. And please, let it go this time well. "She pulled before they boarded the train, a book from her bag. "He sent me then for my birthday." In the picture book that she gave me, put a black and white photography the Little Mermaid , stood on the back. "This is my favorite: Asger Jorn. Show: 117 Dangerous Kissing. . Jeg elsker dig "

At home, I sought out the letter, which was part of this gift:

March 1984

love Emmi,

birthday I am sending you under separate cover (because it is cheaper) a book of my favorite painter Asger Jorn. I know you like art. Jorn will like if you do not know it yet. Unfortunately, not all images in color. Try to imagine it. We are the originals seen together in Silkeborg, I promise you, if you come in summer, and will you come, you know, Emmi?

I do not want you to write such stuff as: "When I was 18 ..." Blah blah blah ... Enjoy it. I wish I could be with you. I have decided to cancel the study. I've already written, is not it? For weeks I was no longer there. My father has no more rent. No idea how to go further. But I'm working on a sculpture. I found a stone mason, I can cut the night in his hall.

Damn, Emmi, I like your poems, you will always be crazy and that's what I like. I am still on a cassette for you so you understand what I mean, with the Sex Pistols, Siouxsie and Bandshees, ok.?

I hear all the time "Berlin" and think of you, I am sending you too, "Transformer". His voice, you're right, is very special. You wrote that you especially "Sad Song " like, but, Emmi, I can hardly stand this song. As follow you their pain and love? - And above all, how do you endure that he is not crying or screaming or anything? It seems so cruel to hear his calm, cool voice that tells of suicide and that it must continue, but why? Is it the drugs that make him so inhuman, or is he so unhappy that he no longer can feel? And just want to survive? (Sometimes, when I long for you, I hear myself "Sad Song" to sing, but I do not then remember that I'm on.) Naughty You. Do not you feel me?

you want me to you by my Sculpture write, but I can not do today. I have swallowed a lot of dust when working. It's like I'm suffocating, but I do not know if it is the stone or your cold, that you do not go, but write so smooth letters. You say you love me, but I can feel it when you do not want to be with me.

With whom do you celebrate? Please, Emmi, write me soon!

Ansgar

you scroll through the photo book I remembered how I by Emmi in the year before graduation, the Art for me discovered. Our trip to Paris during the Easter holidays 1984, written just after the high school, where we visited an exhibition about the Situationists. How I was shocked when I saw a photo of Jorn . "Looks like a twin of your Ansgar." I said. Emmi nodded. "If he were a punk." "Why did you not go to Copenhagen?" Emma shrugged. "In the summer."