Latest News | Biography | Filmography | Performances and Exhibitions | Discography | Bibliography | Zineography | Press | Links | Photos | Merchandise and Contacts

Monday, November 03, 2008

NEGER, NEGER SCHORNSTEINFEGER
It always amazes me what things i write about in this here lady blog that really gets peoples goad. I forget that i have almost a quarter of a million daily readers. If I had a proper business sense i could use my popularity to make a better living for myself instead of being so damn 22 cents. Too bad i am not an Amanda Bearse style Lesbian careerist. Ha ha ha. Mull over that reference for a while kids.
My stream of conscience memory tales brought me a deluge of emails and even a few intercontinental phone calls. I guess i should always write in that vein.
*
My collegue with kollective CHEAP Tim Blue had me over for a scrumpteous dinner at his new spacious compound in Neu Kölln where he pays a whooping 140 euro a month. Tim leads a charmed life. He is the only one i know who has had a young cute sugar daddy/boy who still is offering him free first class trips to New York to just hang out. I am sooooo jealous.
Was reading in the Hearst International Paper, the Herald Tribune about Canadian artist Marcel Dzama´s voting booth project at the David Zwimer Gallery in Chelsea.
I met handsome Marcel in Los Angeles through Wayne Baerwaldt who brought him to my Club Sucker in the late 90s. Now he is a big art star along with Fred Tomaselli who use to work at the 80s downtown LA hipster cafeteria Gorky´s. Fred use to go out with this girl artist named Miri Day who also moved to the east coast in the mid to late 80s. I wonder what happened to Miri, did she make it big in the blue chip art world like Fred. Fred was a sweetheart, but was one of those guys like artist Skip Arnold who look like they never bathe or brush their teeth. Marnie Weber was part of Fred´s downtown LA scene and she also went on to greater glories.
*
I love hanging out at the American Bibliotechque in Berlin. There are always very cute students trolling about. Read an article in the Guardian about Guerrand Hermes, the Hermes heir who got arrested on an Air France flight to New York City for fighting with the planes pilot. Guerrand is one crazed son of Gaul who once grabbed my sumpteous ass while I was wearing a fetching Silvia Heisel bullet proof gown at a soiree in Manhattan for the Experimental Film Festival at Anthology Film Archives. My platonic escort for the evening was a humpy blond Canadian named Ess Vigland who got all macho and testosterone on the wealthy frog, and they both wound up in a full knock-out-sluggo. I always forget that when i am dressed in high drag, (and this particular evening i looked sensational as the late Kevyn Aucoin had beat my face) and with a hetero man, he treats me like a genetic girl and becomes affronted if another fella gives me the hairy eyeball. Having two men battling over me I felt like Jean Seberg in a similar scene from Otto Premingers Bonjour Tristesse.
*
Artist, filmmaker, singer, novelist Christophe Chemin called to tell me about his big solo show in Paris where every drawing sold out in seconds. Actress Isabelle Hupert is a big fan of his writing and art work, and took him out for a private dinner. She probably got a whiff of Christophe’s giant peterficaation. I´ve heard Ms. Hupert is a major female horndog, I am so glad my little Christophe is enjoying super success. He deserves it.
Was taken out to brunch by gorgeous young French academe Maxime Cervulle( a 24 year old Phd) and his bubbly Italian partner Marco. We had a delightful time with each other, and were joined by their American friend Jean Ulrick De´sert a black artist who has been living in Berlin since 2000. Later i was treated to an incredible dinner by Scott Thomas a visiting scholar on his first trip to Berlin who works for the Getty in Los Angeles. Scott is good friends with two other academics David Gardner and David Pendleton. Scott is a veteran of my club performance days at Jeffrey Hilbert´s Hai Karate, and my own heritage club Bricktops. I spend so much time with people in their 20s that it was nice hanging with someone my age who shares the same pop culture references. Later we met up with Daniel Hendrickson, the Scandanavian Muslim and his hot Italian lover Piero at the Kreuzberg hangout Bier Himmel for some serious dwinkin.
Went to the big opening at the Hebbel for their new festival Fressen Oder Fliegen(Art Into Theatre-Theatre Into Art) to see Susanne Sachsse and Karen Cytter´s sparkling interactive installation Guilthouse;Or The Great Fall of the Cartier Family. Ms. Sachsse and Ms. Cytter also colaborated together on the art film Der Spiegel which is also being shown right outside of Guilthouse. The two ladies are perfect sisters of the clothe as they lift a true headline story, so timely now that we are in a global financial crisis. Creating a living, breathing neurotic house of remorse and regret. The visual, sound and lighting come together in a superb fashion with stellar film performances by Frau Sachsse starring as Mrs. Cartier with a perfectly cast Daniel Hendrickson, the Scandanavian Muslim as Mr. Cartier and a revitting Richard Gersch(Susanne´s real life 15 year old son) playing one of the doomed children. The magical Guilthouse set was built and created by the brilliant Senol Senturk who also worked on CHEAP Blacky. Guilthouse is at HAU3 so go see for yourself what everyone in Berlin is currently wrapped up in.
Later went to the grand re-launching of The Arsenal, which will now be known as Arsenal Institut Für Film und Videokunst. A very nice gala presentation coordinated by Arsenal Empress Miss Stefanie Schulte Strathaus and her crew that featured superstar actress Tilda Swinton, who has quite a history with The Arsenal and Berlin going back to 1988 when she made Caravaggio with Derek Jarman. The actress was looking lovely wearing a Katherine Hemnett pantsuit with wedgie pumps, and gave a heartwarming speech, funny and touching. I didnt get a chance to check out if she came to the event with her husband or young lover. Also a hoot was Dr. Ingeborg Berggreen-Merkel the Minister of Culture and Media, who must be the tallest woman in Europe standing at least 9 feet tall in her manish suit and flats. The reception was packed to the rafters. I was holding court at the CHEAP Gossip Studio circular bar sandwiched between Berlin cabaret goddess Zazie De Paris and Downtown New York godhead John Heys.Got to snuggle with handsome silver fox Weiland Speck of the Berlinale´s Panorama section while oggling VIP´s like experimental film legend Birgit Hein, feminist filmmaker Ulrike Ottinger with her glamorous girlfriend, and the first family of German film The Gregors. So juicy seeing vivacious scholar Nicole Wolf, lovesexy academic Nanna Heidenreich,the bbooks gang of Kreuzburg, Little Alexander the Great of Macedonia, teen writer Travis Jeppeson with his spunky lover Mario and their Porky club at Ficken 5000 posse of baby boy dyke elfettes including the post adolescent Mormen concumbine Salt Lake City Brian, famous for working A-list directors Brian Singer and Gus Van Sant with sexy DJ Snax. Had a blast flirting with Arsenal studmufffin Ulrich Ziemon and French filmmaking honeypot Guillaume, who introduced me to a rather glum Pedro Almodovar.
*
Went to the closing event of Exile Gallery´s STH In Cock We Trust/Al Baltrop Pier Photographs Exhibit. I am going to miss Billy Miller of STH. It has been wonderous having his boyish energy here in bleak Berlin. Exile Gallerist Christian Siekmier definately scored a coup with this show. If i hadn´t introduced Billy Miller to Randall of the Al Baltrop Estate back in 2006 during my Bricktops Takes Manhattan spectacle all this most likely wouldnt have happened.
Film historian Marc Siegel gave an extroidinary lecture on Boyd McDonald´s Cruising the Movies that showed some film clips featuring Gloria Graham, Jane Russell, Johnny Schefield and others. Mr. Siegel gave a wonderful perspective on the genius of Mr. McDonald´s critical writing on film. McDonald’s cinema disections were purely original expressing an outsider underclass point of view. Something that some of the careerist artfags in attendance at Exile certainly needed to hear.