One interesting piece that travelled with me around the world, and is currently with me in my home in Vienna, is
acrylic on canvas - 25 x 36 cm - 1983
A talented writer from the Philippines, Kristine Ong Muslim, wrote about it, as well as a few other works of mine in her book We Bury the Landscape. Here is the text:
Bogomil‘s Ceremonial Stage: Caspar and His Props
after Otto Rapp‘s Bogomil‘s Ceremonial Stage:
Caspar and His Props (1983) acrylic on canvas 14 × 10 in.
Caspar, Bogomil‘s sidekick, started the riot of prayer rallies and theater assemblage that featured exaggerated feats by Bogomil as he cavorted with young ladies from stage to stage. Our favorite effigy was the singular blackened one created in the likeness of the Rorschach test‘s first image. Yes, the one that was supposed to look like a butterfly, although most folks insisted it was a moth. Some comments in the guestbook passed around by Caspar described the thing as Icarus before or after his wings melted, a vagina, a phone book opened to entries starting with Z, a microwave oven with a poorly fitting
door, an artichoke pickled in squid ink, etc. Each day, we convinced ourselves that its form had changed, its colors had shifted. The effigy followed us in our dreams. Each time we woke, we were certain we had pinpointed what it was.
~ from We Bury the Landscape by Kristine Ong Muslim
After I had posted this on DeviantArt in 2007, a friend commented with a quote from Jean Arp, referring to Kaspar Hauser:
weh unser guter kaspar ist tot
wer verbirgt nun die brennende fahne im zopf und wer dreht die kaffeemühle
wer lockt nun das idyllische reh
auf dem meer verwirrte er die schiffe mit dem wörtchen parapluie und die winde nannte er bienenvater
weh weh weh unser guter kaspar ist tot heiliger bimbam kaspar ist tot
die heufische klappern in den glocken wenn man seinen vornamen ausspricht darum seufze ich weiter kaspar kaspar kaspar
warum bist du ein stern geworden oder eine kette aus wasser an einem heissen wirbelwind oder ein euter aus schwarzem licht oder ein durchsichtiger ziegel an der stöhnenden trommel des felsigen wesens
jetzt vertrocknen unsere scheitel und sohlen und die feen liegen halbverkohlt auf den scheiterhaufen
~ Hans Arp
This is a Dada poem in German - you can try to run it through Google Transate - but either way, don't expect much sense, because that what Dada is all about.
A dear friend, Liba WS had it on display for a while in her Matahati Store in Paris after it was shown at a exhibition at Atelier Gustave, a Parisian exhibition space with a unique atmosphere, located between the Luxembourg Gardens and rue Daguerre, a stone's throw from the Foundation Cartier for contemporary art.
Liba's Store was very unique, but as it currently stands, they leased the place and no longer operate the store. The handmade furniture they made is only available now by custom order for special clients.
Group of artist friends meeting at Matahati in Paris, prior to our exhibition in Sedan, October 2018
Currently this painting is at home with me in Vienna, sharing a space with a painting by my other good friend that recently joined Hive, Carrie-Ann Baade (she is in the group photo above from Matahati in Paris, on the left).
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ohhh! what a lovely post. I feel nostalgic for you and @carrieannbaade and your wild and beautiful paintings. I love Bogomil's story too! xoxoxo
Thank you Liba - I had to do quite some digging to find those Matahati photos! Not an easy task in my messy files!
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