ARTE POVERA ART

Garbage Junk ART Already as a child in the early 1960’s I was fascinated by all kinds of garbage. I used to go and look in the garbage cans in all the houses around the block where I was living. I collected what I felt was charged with symbolic value. It could be broken toys, broken clocks, woman’s high heeled shoes nylon stockings (my favorite fetish) or old newspapers and magazines. I treated all these objects as treasures and kept them in boxes in my room. They would later become the backbone of my collage oriented art. My fascination for the discarded object, the broken, and by time tarnished and partly destroyed , have never left me. I find its symbolic value, poetic and beautiful. A doll without a leg or an arm. I A softy animal with one ear missing , or a clock that has no arms to show the time. I have trough the years worked in many flee markets, in London, New York and Paris in order to be able to get my hands on this for me so valuable junk. I still have as my weekly routine to visit junk yards, flee markets and seldom pass a garbage container without having a look into it. I see the beauty in what other people consider rubbish. I see in this junk, the passing of time, and how things once precious to a person at one point becomes something worthless. For me it has a poetic value beyond the newly bought object. But it does not stop there. I have a identification with the homeless person sleeping among the street garbage with his belongings in broken bags and with only the sky above him as his home. Later in life I would for a year experience how it really was to be homeless when I lost my home in Paris as a direct effect of my separation from my art and life partner. For over a year I slept each night on a different madras, or someones sofa, or floor. I slept in a Gypsy camp outside Paris and in a warehouse for storing goods. Now I live in an old factory in Kreuzberg Berlin and continue with my art based on a variety of garbage junk

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Already as a child in the early 1960’s I was fascinated by all kinds of garbage.

I used to go and look in the garbage cans in all the houses around the block where I was living. I collected what I felt was charged with symbolic value. It could be broken toys, broken clocks, woman’s high heeled shoes nylon stockings (my favorite fetish) or old newspapers and magazines. I treated all these objects as treasures and kept them in boxes in my room. They would later become the backbone of my collage oriented art. My fascination for the discarded object, the broken, and by time tarnished and partly destroyed , have never left me. I find its symbolic value, poetic and beautiful. A doll without a leg or an arm. I A softy animal with one ear missing , or a clock that has no arms to show the time. I have trough the years worked in many flee markets, in London, New York and Paris in order to be able to get my hands on this for me so valuable junk.

I still have as my weekly routine to visit junk yards, flee markets and seldom pass a garbage container without having a look into it. I see the beauty in what other people consider rubbish. I see in this junk, the passing of time, and how things once precious to a person at one point becomes something worthless. For me it has a poetic value beyond the newly bought object. But it does not stop there. I have a identification with the homeless person sleeping among the street garbage with his belongings in broken bags and with only the sky above him as his home. Later in life I would for a year experience how it really was to be homeless when I lost my home in Paris as a direct effect of my separation from my art and life partner. For over a year I slept each night on a different madras, or someones sofa, or floor. I slept in a Gypsy camp outside Paris and in a warehouse for storing goods. Now I live in an old factory in Kreuzberg Berlin and continue with my art based on a variety of garbage junk

Lets face it I’m a “Junky".