Wednesday, April 30, 2008

Wenckebachweg 18: midnight chat with Nemesia

I had a 1am talk with Nemesia last night in the kitchen. She caught me in the act of nibbling on a slice of cheese. She was looking for Ambroise. She said she needed somebody to talk to. I was glad to be the one to share this midnight chat with her. She had moved into Wenckebachweg 18 a week ago and we had only met briefly one sunny morning in the living room when Ambroise and her shared a sumptuous brunch on the couch with lounge music. Ambroise was wearing a mini skirt, a fake fur coat and high heels that morning. Marcel had told me about Ambroise’s occasional drag actions and I felt touched and honored to finally witness one myself.
Nemesia had been evicted from a squat a few days ago and was still a bit traumatized. I didn’t realize how big an effect this eviction had on her. She seemed to be a tough&talkative girl. That was my first impression. She was wiping her eye sockets vigorously. I’m not embarrassed anymore when people cry in front of me. I was especially intrigued by Nemesia’s vigorous rubbing of her eye sockets as if this could prevent the tears from flowing.
I had just gotten back from a Korean dumpling party. She had been to a dinner with fellow academics. She writes her PHD on the squatting movement in Holland. She had enjoyed the food but found the people boring. Especially one Iranian guy who always needs to be the center of attention and was saying things like: “ I bought some lamb today. They have some really nice quality lamb in Holland!”
She told me she hadn’t realized I was a dancer. She took modern dance in college and loves to go to dance performances. She also commented on my accent. She found it slightly American with a vague European timbre or something along those lines.
I was flattered by her remark. I’m always annoyed when people detect my accent as being from the German wing all too soon. Being reminded that my accent isn’t as obviously German as Philip’s for example is very reassuring, although I’m not particularly keen on sounding American either.
Philip had left to Berlin for a week. Nemesia wasn’t the only one feeling relieved by Philip’s absence. He acts as though he owns the house and had expressed serious and vehement objections to Nemesia moving into the guest room. Philip likes to use the guest room as his office and the living room as his work space. His bedroom is only for sleeping and looking at himself in the mirror (according to Ambroise). Nemesia doesn’t understand how somebody can have three rooms in a squatted house. After all a squat is public property and should be treated as such with social responsibility.
Nemesia told me that Philip had asked her questions about her status when they first met – which social class her parents belong to etc. I find this perverse.
Status shouldn’t be an issue at all. But upon closer reflection I had to admit that in my social circle status is an issue after all. It is determined by whether people find somebody’s work interesting or not, if it sells and happens to please and intrigue. It is about pimping one’s profile and having an extended network of potential spectators, programmers, critics etc. who give value and importance to one’s artistic output.