At the corner of Paracelsusgasse and Löwengasse people are stranded. They stop to look at their phones. Every now and again I‘m hoping they’d look up, point, pose and shoot. But all they do is ask me for directions. All they care about is the next sight. How do we get to the city.There‘s a FedEx bus parked outside. FedEx Express. Outfit change. Der Postler betritt das Gebäude. Klaus, du musst hochgehen. Und dann stellst du dich dahin. When they don’t take photos, they sit and look at the photos they just took. I learn this step is equally as important as the posing. I see unsatisfied girlfriends. Here goes round two. Three? Four? He gets up, she makes her way to the phone booth. Did Hundertwasser design this? I’ve heard of the name Bachwitz.I’m tired of just standing there and watching people come and go. Selfies seem to have become a thing of the past, something for the boomers. Do you remember selfie sticks? I’m tired. Tired of all the arm workouts I’m seeing. Lift, point and shoot. My vision gets blurry, everything looks the same, buildings become two dimensional and fit into 5.4-inch frames. The Palais des Beaux Arts Wien is more-or-less always open, and can be copied, carried around in your pocket and even deleted. Lass uns erst mal Bilder machen. Siehst du, ich stell mich hierhin und du machst ein Foto. Aber nicht zu viel Beton. Schau mal wie ich performe. I hand her a card:Place yourself in front of the Palais des Beaux Arts. Pose and get your picture taken. Post the nicest looking photo on Instagram. Tag the location “Palais des Beaux Arts Wien”.Performance Piece, 2024
