JOURNAL OF CONTEMPORARY ART
jiri georg dokoupil


Philip Pocock: So tell me, what are you working on right now in Cologne?

Jiri Georg Dokoupil: (pause, baby crying . . . ) First of all, I see colors. I see many colors. I see white in the center. Or a little bit of yellow. Then I see (pause . . . ) violet around it. The violet has little blue points inside. I see some green. And the yellow is becoming more and more strong. In a way, the yellow is the border of the green. Green (pause . . . ) and violet. I see circles. Circles. And inside the circles are more circles. I see mushrooms, no, only one mushroom. (pause . . . ) It really could be that the light blue is the best color but I like all the colors the best. (pause . . .) The man is sweeping the floor. He’s dressed like Trotsky. But how do I know how Trotsky was dressed? (pause . . . ) Fire is burning. It’s not a fire that burns very dramatically. It’s just a little fire. A little fire. (pause . . . ) How can I transform the small finger of my left hand into a snail? Something is hanging down from the sky. But I cannot identify it. It’s something, no, it’s a mushroom again. But why is it upside down? (pause . . . ) What kind of laugh is it? I mean is it really possible if something is laughing when we don’t hear it? We don’t hear the sound of laughing. We just see the mouth. (pause . . . ) A man is coming down with his parachute. (pause . . . ) He has a red beard. I mean, it could be Bruno Bischofberger, but I don’t think so. No. Noooo. It doesn’t have a nose. (pause . . . ) I hear this sound. I mean if you, if you enter the shower and you open the curtain, it gives this sound. It’s a nice sound. (pause . . . ) Why do people look like silver? It’s interesting. Why silver? That’s, that’s in stone. That’s in stones. Shiny heads. They’re smoking. They look up and they’re smoking. (pause . . . ) What is my favorite movie? When I was twelve, it was definitely Spartacus. (pause . . . ) I don’t like movies anymore. I don’t have the nerve to sit for two hours in the cinema. No, that’s not true. I would have the nerve. I’ve had the nerve for movies, for movies I can say are transparent, the same way as reality. I prefer reality. The transparent reality. (long pause, drifting . . . ) The painting is completely off-center. Ya, it’s a huge canvas, with a colorful dot on the right side. Hopefully it looks good. Now it’s so humid in the studio that all the stretchers bend. They look like propellers. (pause . . . ) Yellow and green are raining down. (pause . . . ) This is like a cartoon from a Persian miniature. Yaah, it’s a cartoon made out of a Persian miniature. (pause . . . ) The lamp above me has about forty centimeters diameter. It doesn’t bother me. This lamp doesn’t bother me. And this sort of Japanese door on the left, that it moves like a Japanese door, doesn’t bother me. No, it doesn’t bother me either. And this closet in front of me has one, two, three, four, five, six, nine doors. And it doesn’t bother me either. (pause . . . ) And the bed, the bed is alright. (pause . . . ) I don’t like the ticking of a watch in the night. Usually I put a pillow above it, but uhm, then I don’t have a pillow for myself. (pause . . . ) The letter M is a factory or it could be a sideways 5. Oh, the sideways 5, the sideways 5 is a factory. (pause . . . ) I’m seeing this and tools. Millions, millions of tools and machines. They’re covering the ground completely. (pause . . . ) I don’t see the ground. (pause . . . ) A beautiful violin just came out of the violin case. I have never seen such a violin case before. It looks like a sardine can. (pause . . . ) Holding a bird. Holding a bird. Grey. (pause . . . ) What would I do if everything were grey? I mean, what would I do if everything would be grey? (pause . . . ) No, I can’t call it grey because there is movement inside. The grey moves inside. It is a mass of slow movement. (pause . . . ) It’s like pouring a thick, hot chocolate out of a tap, above a tart. (pause . . . ) How close can I get to an insect? (pause . . . ) Or with a microscope? (pause . . . ) There is a naked girl. Her breast looks like an envelope. She’s not my friend. (pause . . . ) No, I really want creation. I don’t want reflection. No reflection. Just pure creation. (pause . . . ) The most difficult part is the selection anyway. To select the selection. (long pause . . . ) I also cannot describe anything. Nothing. I cannot. I’m really not able. (pause . . . ) There’s so much going on there but it’s really terrible. Now it’s the selection, stupid selection. I wish I could take it over. (pause . . . ) I don’t know anything about any political subjects. I would like to. I would like to know but it doesn’t enter, it doesn’t enter my brain. I don’t know anything about any country. I mean almost anything. I mean. I mean I know things that I have been forced to know. I would like to know more. (pause . . . ) I want nature. I want pure nature. I want nature against ideas, formalism, academism. Against politics. Against form. Against content. (pause, baby talk . . . ) (Mnuuu nwuoo.) A big stomach, big stomachs have an interesting curve. That’s, I mean the curve from the breast and then it just makes an interesting curve out, comes back. (pause . . . ) It’s sort of a nice curve. It’s very dynamic. (pause . . . ) I’m taping down this cloth or something. (Hnnnn.) No, it’s like, ah this plastic on this table. I’m taping it down with pieces of tape. (pause . . . ) I see a railroad. It’s curved. (Whoo ho nno uoki uyu.) A self-portrait. A portrait. Landscape. Still life. And the modern mixed form. (ha whoo goh.) Apple with green spot. (Hyaawaaaa niowwah.) Tree with a leg. (Yanoonowu gniogo.) The baby is talking. (Ihyu hu nyia u ooh gni uh.) I’m really not hungry. I’m not hungry. (Wheena niaaaw gnah.) I see a corner. But this corner is a strange corner. It’s not really a corner. It’s, uhm, it’s part of a ship. But it transformed itself into a car. And a funny looking car. (pause . . . ) What a nice zoo I see. All the animals are standing like they’re standing the whole time, they’re standing at a thirty-degree angle to the ground. To the earth. Everything looks a little out of balance. Maybe it has to do with the simple fact that I drank too much red wine yesterday in the night. It was a nice evening anyway. The Spanish (pause . . . ) the Spanish are always singing. Always. (pause . . . ) I mean when they are not depressed, they are always singing.


Text: © Copyright, Journal of Contemporary Art, Inc. and the authors