Subtractions down the Rhine

Short travelogue about a photobook, an exhibition and a once in a lifetime experience in Koblenz, Germany

A year ago, I was chatting with my good friend Kostas about a possible collaboration between our crafts. I was preparing for a presentation in the centre of Athens for my first poetry collection, titled “Nightly Cacophonies”, and we were discussing my absence from that year’s Roadburn Festival.

For those of you not familiar, Kostas is a photographer living in Koblenz, West Germany, and part of our Rocking.gr press team. We travel each year to Tilburg, Netherlands, to cover this magnificent four-day indoor event of forward-thinking, underground, experimental heavy music. So, during our conversations, we came up with the idea of a collaborative project.

Kostas really wanted to give his long-exposure black-and-white photographs a literary twist, and I thought that we should do an “experimental photobook”. So, we came up with the combination of selected photos with abstract, four- or five-line poems that would complement them. The process was simple. I was working on my next book, titled “The Day After”, so I wanted to focus solely on that writing style. Meanwhile, Kostas would roam his city, Koblenz, taking photos for months.

Then, he would send me 25 of them. By the time the download link had arrived, I had finished my book and also signed a contract with my publisher. So, now it was my time to delve into the black and white and try to capture my unfinished, cryptic thoughts in English. We wanted to address that language barrier, since we are both native-born Greek speakers, by using the elusiveness of the English language as a weapon to express simplicity. After three intense months, the photobook was ready.

Soheyl Nassary, an incredible artist and Kostas’s dear friend, created the layout and was kind enough to bear with our stupid questions and demands. The end product was something far beyond our imagination. Then, Kostas had the idea to transcend this photobook into a full-blown artistic exhibition at Galerie Laïk, where he also works. His terms and conditions were simple: he wanted me to make the trip and be present on the opening day. I wouldn’t miss it for the world, even though it cost me this year’s Roadburn Festival.

Up until Friday, March 27th, Kostas was doing all the hard work, from the hanging of the photos and the poems to the creation of the poster and the invitations, while I was mainly trying to curate a Spotify playlist of ambient, experimental, urban instrumental music to accompany the exhibition. In other words, I was not very helpful due to the circumstances. My trip to Germany would be the first time I was traveling abroad alone. So, it was a huge psychological deal for me, and I am eternally thankful to my partner, Theano, for her wholehearted support throughout the whole journey. I would visit Koblenz for four days, and her approach to the whole matter elevated my experience.

When I first arrived in Koblenz, hail and cold greeted me. It took me a while to get accustomed after a sunny train trip of one and a half hours along the shores of the Rhine, where, shocked, I was gazing at the fortresses, the churches, the architecture, the buildings, the scenery, the air—everything. I was really doing it, even though exiting Frankfurt Airport was such a challenge for someone like me. It had been almost two years since the last time I had met Kostas, so when I saw him smoking at the Koblenz train station, I knew I had made it.

First things first, we headed straight to the gallery, where I met Jean-Marc, an extraordinary individual, owner of the gallery and responsible for its artistic direction. Intelligent, experienced, honest but kind, Jean-Marc could share stories about his world travels or his experiences and thoughts on art for days, and I would never be bored. I would just learn.

What I really wanted, though, on Thursday night was to spend time with the exhibition and test the playlist. Kostas was nervous about the details and the expected attendance, but I was amazed. I could not believe my eyes; my senses were absorbing every little detail of the gallery, of the photos, of the geometry of the space. After that, Kostas and I visited our friends Tobias (of Porta Nigra) and Joanna and had dinner. Koblenz by night is cold, and the scenery is truly a spectacle.

On Friday morning, while Kostas was working and preparing for the grand opening in the afternoon, the weather allowed me to take a stroll in Koblenz and prepare my speech. I decided to take the easy route, walking along the Moselle River to the Deutsches Eck, the place where the Moselle and the Rhine meet and where the huge Kaiser Wilhelm Monument stands. Thankfully, it was not tourist season, so I could enjoy the view quite a lot. Then, I visited the Ludwig Museum of Contemporary Art, and again, I was the sole visitor, so I could immerse myself in the quiet power of reality-warping art. The Basilica of St. Castor and the Florinskirche were typical and intimidating examples of Catholic/Gothic architecture, so I had to visit them. It was a nice morning, a cocktail of anxiety and eagerness.

I spent most of my time at the Konrad-Adenauer-Ufer along the Rhine, where I prepared my speech. I also wrote a poem there that I hope will see the light of day sometime in the distant future. By the time I returned, almost everything was set in motion, and our friend Phil was there. Phil, whom I had also first met at the Roadburn Festival, is an incredible person and a close friend of Kostas. Apart from being our friend and someone great to talk to, Phil was also responsible for the opening, introductory speech and presentation of the “Subtractions” exhibition, a recurring role he is now accustomed to. As he had already studied the photobook, we had a lengthy discussion about my approach, so he adjusted his notes and also guided me for my part of the speech.

Phil’s role in the whole event cannot be overstated; he was critical. We had low expectations for the attendance, but the opening was a success. People were really interested in the unseen connections between the two forms of art, and Phil’s speech, which took an all-encompassing philosophical and journalistic approach, really set the stage. As for me, nervous and full of jokes, I decided not to overlap but to focus on the importance of capitalist alienation. In a fast-paced era where everything is a brutal, trauma-inflicting, unprocessed cut, pausing and appreciating our inner thoughts is almost a revolutionary act.

We wanted to shed a grey light into the subconscious of ordinary people without limiting the possibilities of their thoughts. We tried to collaborate like script and cinematography in a DIY film, where musical ambience is the soundscape upon which we subtract details, giving space for the unspoken to emerge. We didn’t intervene in each other’s craft, and we weren’t inspired by high morals or rigid ideas. We wanted to highlight the ordinary, to crown small victories and unnoticed defeats as the gears that set our understanding of others in motion within society.

In the same vein, the next day we organised a slightly different event. In the months prior to the grand opening, we had been discussing how we could connect with DIY artistic communities and collectives in Koblenz. I really wanted to see how people get things done in that part of the world, to learn about the legal and institutional difficulties, the acceptance by local communities, and the way they approach art.

We decided that in the second event we would focus on the collaboration behind the creation of the photobook and how we bridged the gap between our two cities, Athens and Koblenz. “Will we arrive?” became our motto, so Kostas reached out to some wonderful people, and we organised a discussion around the ways DIY art can fight urban loneliness and alienation. NDS, Michael Geifer, Marius Ochtendung, Thomas Huba, and Lonesome Division answered our call and offered great insight into different artistic pathways, from DIY skateboarding collectives that also organise live shows to funding events and inclusive parties.

On top of everything, BOY gave us a beautiful acoustic/folk-punk live show to bring the event to a perfect close. We enjoyed the music, and I screamed my lungs out during his cover of Rancid’s “Fall Back Down”. I will never forget those three minutes. I was happy.

Kostas’s Sound Garden record store also hosts open live shows for upcoming local artists, playing an important role in the area. Phil, once again, was key to the success of the event by moderating the discussion. I shared my experience from participating in local assemblies in Athens in the past, and even though the conversation, at times, took a more pessimistic turn due to the obstacles mentioned, it was the spirit of communion that brought us joy. Most of these people had not been in the same room before this event, discussing possible collaborations. As Kostas said, “let this be the start of something greater”.

The feedback was overwhelming. People embraced me and thanked me, and in all honesty, I felt once again part of something bigger. I did not want to come to that city as a tourist or as a foreign guest imposing my art and opinions, but to integrate into the subculture. From the conversations and the important comments about the exhibition and the value of bringing people together, to discussions about fighting fascism and privileged cultural structures, everything still feels like a dream.

There are so many people I met during my three days there who are not mentioned in this blog. I remember all of you—your names, your smiles, our genuine conversations, your kindness, and the spark in your eyes. Your presence fueled me to keep going, to not think of everything as meaningless and depressive, in an almost dreamlike way. I promised that I would return, and it is a promise I intend to keep.

To Kostas, Phil, Jean-Marc, Tobias, Joanna, Isa, Melanie, everyone, I am eternally grateful. “Subtractions” is an artistic project that we did not intend to be a one-off, and we hope to bring it to other artistic spaces, even here in Greece. Fighting loneliness and existential crisis in brutal times of war, genocide, economic instability, and an uncertain future is not an easy task. Knowing that you can count on other people to create and communicate art and emotions, to be part of teams that share the burden, is invaluable.

Art is powerful, and so is mutual aid, DIY organisation, and a fragile sense of belonging. The desire to bring down walls and build bridges, like those of beautiful Koblenz.

P.S.1. You can order your photobook directly from Kostas here, or by the Gallery here.

P.S.2. I leave you the Spotify Playlist that accompanied our whole project.