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Els Dietvorst

(c)Els Dietvorst / Aurelie di Marino, photo: Wannes Cre
Drijfhout [Driftwood], 2019
Text

After a series of meetings with “ACM”, a homeless person living in Brussels, Els Dietvorst wrote the monologue Ik ga naar mijn kippen (I’m going to my chickens) three years ago, for Dirk Roofthooft. The text is a continuation of the documentary trilogy she made about the life of this philosopher-wanderer and his struggle for a decent life. When Dietvorst worked on one of her Skull sculptures for the Moscow Biennale two years later, her brother was dying. This experience led her to write a monologue: Driftwood.
Driftwood is a monologue for Aurelie di Marino that premiered at Kaaitheatre in Brussels, in 2019.

 


 

DRIFTWOOD

 

I am dead

 

I am stiff

I am cold

 

I’ve always had a thing with death

on my tenth birthday I was given my first animal

a hamster

it died within a year

the day before she had been spinning joyfully in the wheel

in the morning she lay on her back

with her paws in the air

my mother threw her in the toilet

 

I have known where truth lives, ever since

in the black hole of the toilet

 

What did I do wrong?

I know my priorities

I respect my fellow man

I never hurt anyone

sometimes though

when the humiliation gets too great

then I’ll twist a hand

or do a snake’s grip

or a knuckle rap

 

Nothing too serious

 

I must admit

sometimes I am afraid

the white canvas gawks at me

I do not wish to be second rate

 

You have to stay alert

pinch yourself in the jaw

fly up and down acrobatically

 

If you’re not careful

there is a chance

that you end up choosing the wrong life for yourself

 

You have to eat

before you get eaten

that’s how IT works

 

IT takes possession of you 

IT sits like a louse on your skin

IT makes you believe you need all kinds of things to exist 

 

Where is my brother?

 

I hope I get killed 

By a falling tree

or just by accident

in a sudden effacement

I hate the idea that the cause could be an apparatus

a car or blender or circular saw

they make too much noise

 

An artist is what I am

a small artist

one day I will grow big

an estate in my name

 

I paint every day

in the attic

I sometimes wear the same clothes for weeks 

I eat crusts of bread

And drink only tepid milk

 

And then

 

Red

Green

Blue

Red

 

Every canvas is a major work of art

never been made before by anyone

I am inspired

 

I don’t want to show anyone

this will make history

I believe in my grandeur 

I cannot part with this

 

They say

you have to sell it 

you have to sell it

you have to hang it on our walls

 

But I get nervous from such expectations

All that excitement makes me want to go to the toilet

Crusts of bread and milk mixed in with the lukewarm smell of piss

I can smell my own fear

 

I put on my best suit

The evenings are full of gold and glitter

 

Everything is vanity

 

That’s how it goes every time

every time I start again

I make something else

I believe in grandeur

 

But I know that one day it will all be over

the hall is emptying out

I can see it in their faces 

 

They say

it’s bad

it’s not of this time

it no longer fits on the walls

 

Am I a master or am I a subject?

am I eating or am I being eaten?

is it masturbation or meditation?

am I a monk or a mule?

 

Where is my brother?

 

I rush up to the attic 

I throw Red Blue Green onto the canvas 

push my hand in

Brown, Dark brown

the canvas gapes at me like a Dark Brown hole

 

I pour all the paint on the ground 

Brown

I smear the paste on my face 

and roll in it with my whole body

Brown

 

Then I ask myself

what on earth am I doing?

what is the point?

 

Everything will one day disappear

so will I

so will you

 

 

I start anew 

 

I am going to do IT differently

 

I will put on a blue suit 

I enter into something grand

like a church but without faith

 

I work

I hit nails into walls

I want to change things

I want to share

I want to smear

I smear mud onto a large sculpture

that looks like a human skull

 

Now I am a servant of the arts

I work from nine to five

I close the door behind me

I climb ladders

I hang from ropes

I am in the mood

 

My brother is attached to a machine

with plastic tubes

he says

stick out your arms

turn them round

lay them on mine

don’t forget the swallows

I can see them flying but I can’t reach them

 

There is a tall man

He is lighting the fire 

sharing his food

pouring tea

whispering in riddles

 

Water, liGht AND WARMTH ARE THE DRIVING FORCES BEHIND THE UNVEILING

SacramentAL GESTURES HOLD A PROMISE FOR THE EVERYDAY

 

My brother can no longer eat 

no longer drink

what do you long for most

I asked[KM1]  him

he said

a glass of water

a glass of water

I would commit a murder for a glass of water  

 

We smear more mud

The sculpture is getting bigger

it’s growing

 

A young woman is looking at me

she stretches out her arms

turns her hands around

shows them

turns them around again

and says

I am the echo

I come from a country

Where they chop your body to pieces

If you tell the truth

They threw my child out of the window

I didn’t want to escape

I made myself ugly

Smeared shit all over me

walked for two weeks

with my cow in the forest

 

We have to be quiet to hear

what the tall man is saying

he is whispering

he has a swallow in his hand

he points as he speaks 

 

THE NAILS HAVE ELVES’ HEADS

THE SKULL IS THE HIDING PLACE

THE TEETH ARE MADE OF DRIFTWOOD

 

My brother says

go and find the truth 

working together has in it the possibility of dreaming 

 

I start to feel unwell 

walk to the toilet

I shout

my brother is dying!

my brother is dying!

 

On the way downstairs

I bump into a man

he is glowing

he says

I am the forgotten one

I come from a land

where poison drips from pipes

I have seen people with holes in their bodies

dogs became wolves

cats ate their own kittens

I am empty

I have neither ambition nor desire

who are you?

 

His breath reeks, the smell of death

 

I want to get past him

Have to go to the toilet urgently

But I can’t get past

I call out

I am from the promised land 

I am everyone and no one

And storm down the stairs

 

I smear more mud on the sculpture 

the echo joins in

the shadow joins in

the forgotten one joins in

we smear rhythmically

sometimes our hands touch 

warmth

 

The forgotten one whispers in my ear

 

EVERY HUMAN BEING LIVES IN SILENT DESPAIR

 

What am I doing here?

 

It makes me uneasy 

I can’t bear to look

The skull and my dying brother

 

The echo comes towards me

touches my arm

I can feel the warmth

he says

I have the same birthmark as you

he strokes my cheek

I jump

How does he know that?

I run to the toilet

take off my clothes

study my body

and see another birthmark on my right leg 

 

My brother says

the light is going out

dying is difficult

I stretch out my arms 

lay them on his

feeling the warmth

 

I say

hang in there

think of all the good things

think of your sandals

your friends

embrace your loved ones

hang in there hang in there

 

I am exhausted 

would like to sleep

but am afraid of the black flies in my dreams

they’re on everything and everyone

buzzing

pushing in through every orifice

through my nose my ears my mouth

         

I know this is the end

 

The forgotten one is standing before me

he speaks in oracles

 

THE ERA OF CALAMITIES HAS NOW BEGUN!

THE EARTH OPENS LIKE A SPIDER’s WEB

ANIMALS WALK TO THEIR LAIRS

A WHITE MASS

FIRE

THE SEA TURNS TO BLACK

RIVERS BECOME SEAS

MANURE AND DEATH BLACK MASS SKULL OF MAN AND OF ANIMAL

 

I walk to the toilet 

I smell the stench of barley juice

Piss and drool

 

There are people everywhere

hanging lying down standing 

flies in their nose in their eyes in their mouth

 

I can hear helpless animals screeching 

In the distance I can hear a child 

The wind is pounding

Crows crow

It’s raining sheets of water

 

Where is my brother?

Where is my brother?

 

Sweat drips from my face

 

Someone taps on my back

The tall man says

 

COME

i WILL TAkE YOU TO THE CATACOMBS OF HUMANITY 

 

We circle

we descend

deeper and deeper under the toilet

under the sewers

 

Warmth comes towards us 

I can hear a voice

 

Boy seventeen run over by a bus

Unknown man found covered by a metre of snow

A girl of ten a woman the mother caught under a capsized boat girl drowned mother died on the way to the hospital

Unknown man electrocuted as he climbed on the roof of a goods train

Boy nine years old his body found at sea

Unknown man sets himself on fire

Three women unknown drowned in the river

Five children unknown drowned when boat sank

Woman unknown died from exposure

Unknown man jumped out of the window when fire broke out

Unknown woman frozen to death

Boy six months old strangled by his desperate mother

 

We descend further 

the voice fades

and makes room for the noise of the wind

 

It’s full of drawings there

portraits in Brown ink

there are hundreds of them

thousands

 

 I want to go to the toilet but keep it in

 

The tall man looks at me

 

THESE ARE THE LOST ONES THE MUTE ONES THE FORGOTTEN ONES

SOULS QUASJED BY HUMAN INDIFFERENCE 

 

 They too were brother sister daughter son father mother  

 

Tenderness is always an answer

 

I follow him into another room 

we take off our shoes

I can see embroidered carpets with big and small texts on them 

I kneel

 

I read

I would like a little humanity help

I am cold help 

I want to be loved help 

I am afraid help

I am lonely help 

I am weak help

 

He says

this is human plasma

it arises in the human spirit

but then it is forgotten again

it is erased by them

 

And then suddenly there is light

a large ball of light fills the room

a little swallow flies in

 

I look at the text beneath my feet 

I am looking for the truth help me

 

The tall man looks me in the eyes

 

i HAVE BURNT ALL MY BRIDGES 

TO GET AS CLOSE TO THE TRUTH AS POSSIBLE

AND AFTER YEARS OF SEEKING YOU REALIZE

THAT ALL YOU CAN BEAR

IS THE TRUTH

AND NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH

 

My brother says

they have taken away all my humanity

my sandals my phone my vest

 

I light candles for him

I whisper

let go get rid of your body let yourself go let go

maybe you’ll come back

as the wind a swallow a branch

as fertile soil for your loved ones

 

at night I dream of my brother  

he isn’t ill

he looks good

he has a nocturnal lightness like flakes of snow 

he is laughing

he has his sandals his phone his vest

he says

I am dead

I only have one hour here then I have to go back

he laughs great laughs

he makes great strides

he stretches out his long arms in from of him

and asks me to do the same

he puts his underarm on mine

I can feel the warmth

he goes around hugging his loved ones

he calls out

light the fire light all fires

I ask 

how is it there?

he says

radiant!

It’s everything here and I am nothing here

 

And then he is gone 

 

 

We smear

we whisper

we swear

we know

         

The animals already knew

the animals have always known

a cat runs away when it is going to die

chickens bathe in ashes

crows crow tokens

hedgehogs bury themselves in manure

to draw water from their bones

 

All hands go the same way 

the skull is raised gently off the ground

the scent of burnt firewood 

 

Red Green Blue

Red Green Blue

Red Green Blue

become white

 

The sun is the moon

the moon is the sun 

fire

 

Earth air water fire

earth air water fire

 

Swallows fly up and down

dogs bark

donkeys scatter gold

swines spit pearls

 

I run I run I run

 

Because to arrive

where you want to be

to get

to where you are not

it’s this way

 

All is streaming

All is in movement

All is one

 

Memento mori

Memento mori

Memento mori

 

Memento mori

Memento mori

Memento mori

 

Memento mori

Memento mori

Memento mori

 

I want to go home

 

I want to go home