Lautsprecher in den Bäumen: Roman (German Edition)

The group is not delimited any further in this stanza and is identified only through the geographical marker of the Carpathians one of the defining features of the Romanian landscape in line 4, thus presumably referring to all Romanian citizens, regardless of ethnicity. The poem's emphasis on 54 unity in the enterprise of socialism, which is directly addressed in the last line of the first stanza, is reinforced in the second stanza: It's not one hand.

It's many hands assembling stone for stone the building of our lives. It's the entire country guided by one hand! In the second stanza, the poem recurs to the common synecdoche of the hands as a symbol of the unity of the country under strong leadership. Es war nicht leicht: Wir aber bauten im Auftrag der Klasse. Jedes Jahr ist ein Stockwerk am Hochbau des Sozialismus.

It wasn't easy, but we were building in the name of our class, were building guided by the party. Each year is a level in the highrise of socialism. This rigid understanding of construction as the fulfilment of an inherently right project is challenged in the Romanian-German poetry of the post-war generation. Man wird verschieden wohnen zwischen Beton und Glas. Stephani, Befragung heute 69 Building means: Construction workers will fear the concrete, Constructors, however, will open the windows. One will live differently between concrete and glass.

While the first definition provides a practical interpretation of building the use of concrete and glass to create a place to sleep , the second surprises by offering a reinterpretation of the first which has nothing to do with practical considerations. The second definition underlines both the similarity and the difference between the two concepts: Building better, the stanza suggests, means moving beyond the practical and toward less tangible values, such as beauty, warmth, and harmony.

The second stanza deepens the opposition created by the first through the introduction of two kinds of builders: The central opposition on which the poem is structured indicates that there are at least two paths to building a socialist society. Although the poem seems optimistic about the future, the last stanza may also be a warning that one will live only as well as the construction of one's society permits. Da wird ein Haus gebaut. Da baut man einen Sozialismus. Was baut man da? Da wird ein Feld bebaut. Fahnen im Wind 81 A house is being built there. A field is being tilled there.

Streets are being laid there. And trees are being planted there. A socialism is being built there. What is being built there? A house is being built there. The repetition is offset by the two lines making up the second stanza: This simple structure is indeed reminiscent of a song, but the message is hardly one of praise.

Far from depicting socialism as a series of glorious achievements carried out by a united collective, the poem represents the building of socialism as a limited number of quite ordinary and repetitive actions belonging to unidentified individuals. The reversed order of the two central lines — with the answer preceding the question — suggests that the actions described in the first stanza have been made to fit foregone conclusions. This differentiation enables the split attitude announced in the title: Indeed, as the second stanza indicates, praising and doubting become synonymous, as do building and changing.

This inversion of concepts goes hand in hand with the insistence on the individual's contribution to society.

Die Abholzung : Roman

Read in the context of the genre suggested by the title, the poem further articulates a new position for the poet as both praiser and critic. The role of constructor is appropriated for the poet, who uses this capacity not to blindly follow a direction but to initiate change.

Two types of such environments are presented by the poem: Its attributes — gentleness, silence, and smallness — belong to the iconography of the weak feminine and, as such, are devalued in the poem. Large, open, and rough, this markedly masculine environment is one of action. Through 62 the portrayal of another poet, the text also articulates perhaps the best Hodjak's own hope of influencing society through the medium of verse. While this second building is located within the speaker's construction, it also overshadows it: Made of prefabricated walls as well as of pretence: These details suggest that the building inside the speaker's construction belongs to the socialist system.

Despite the speaker's incipient involvement in constructing this system, some of its features have come to dominate and confine him. As in Hodjak's poem, the apartment building thus comes to stand for the socialist project, in which human beings have become alienated: Although the interaction seems to proceed normally — the participants greet each other, have conversations, shake hands, etc.

This becomes evident in the last stanza, when the speaker's negative remark about the weather is returned by the echo as its polar opposite. Even though the remark seems innocuous, the completeness of its denial is telling. Couched in absurd language, Samson's indictment of the socialist project as one in which people become alienated from both each other and their own opinions requires a great deal of context to make itself understood.

Setting the — possible — achievement of socialist goals in the distant future rather than in the past or in the present, Schmitz's verses take a swipe at the promise inherent in the poetry of socialist construction. The high hopes invested in the socialist project are debunked as mystifications: From Construction to Communication: Claiming a Space in the Romanian Public Sphere The focus on the socialist topos of construction is largely replaced in the poetry of the s generation with one on communication, especially on the possibilities and limits of public discourse.

In the Romania of the late s, public discussion was, if not entirely free, than at least outwardly encouraged. Although the speech's primary intended application was foreign diplomacy, it was widely understood as an acknowledgement of the right to free public discussion by Romania's intellectuals Gabanyi In this general climate of openness towards matters of public interest, the young generation of Romanian-German poets set out to carve itself a space in the public forum.

That the young Romanian-German poets understood themselves as free and 66 public participants is evidenced in Richard Wagner's blunt description of the initial attitude of the Aktionsgruppe Banat: Although political by definition, the public sphere has its roots in literary assemblies, such as the coffee houses and the salons of the 17th and 18th centuries, and in the printed texts journals, treatises, but also novels and other literary productions that offered them food for thought and discussion: Even before the control over the public sphere by public authority was contested and finally wrested away by the critical reasoning of private persons on political issues, there evolved under its cover a public sphere in apolitical form — the literary precursor of the public sphere operative in the political domain.

Habermas, The Structural Transformation This rehearsal of political discussions is evident in the poetry of the s generation. Written from the point of view of the first person plural, the poem attempts to locate the generation within the existing discourse: Despite the poem's announced aim of clarity and its brevity, its intelligibility is obscured by a complex grammatical and lexical structure. The first stanza consists of four elliptical clauses lacking both subjects and predicates and broken up through the use of enjambment. The roughness of this structure requires the reader to continually readjust his or her perspective, thus modelling the adjustment described by the lines.

If the grammatical structure requires constant readjustment, the lexical structure requires constant interpretation. The first stanza makes frequent use of compounds and adjectival constructions used in a metaphorical sense to describe the changes proposed by the poem: Fluch dem guten Ton! Rein in die Kessel mit ihnen. Aus ihren Rezepten dreht euch Fidibusse. Topfguckerei soll von heut an keine Schande mehr sein. Get them into the cauldrons.

Let them drown in their own mess. Roll yourselves tapers out of their recipes. From now on, watching the pot boil shan't be a disgrace anymore. Lift the lids from the pots and take a good look in case there's a Gorgon head in there again. Let omission be a sin of the past. Let new cookbooks be printed. The tone of the second part of the poem, quoted above, is almost giddy, as the speaker calls for what amounts to a revolution. Elaborated over the last seven lines of the poem, the final change called for by the speaker is also the most important one: Written during the Vietnam War, the poem tries to promote attention to the conflict in the seemingly apathetic Romanian-German literary network: The mode of the poem is ironic: This ambiguity allows the poem to hover somewhere between call for action and indictment of contemporary poetic practice.

In both cases, however, the poem evidences the desire for a more inclusive literature and, most importantly, for a literature which is in touch with current political issues. The Thematisation of International Conflicts Despite the repeatedly announced desire of the young generation of Romanian-German poets to contribute to an open discussion of social and political issues, Romanian politics remained taboo as a subject of public enquiry. The predominance of Chile and Vietnam as subjects for the young Romanian-Germans is, of course, not accidental.

As focal points of international attention, the two crises impacted 74 far more than their immediate environments and are part of the socio-historical location that defined the s generation. The two conflicts particularly engaged the political imaginations of young Marxist intellectuals, providing the members of the the s generation of Romanian- German writers with an opportunity to connect with leftist ideas worldwide: The decisive point was the subjective reflection of the fact that a global movement was taking shape, whose aim it was to change the world for the better.

In the spring of , Neue Literatur published a selection of Vietnam poems representing anti-war voices from the two Germanies and Austria. The chosen poems, by Hans Stilett, Reinhard Baumgart, Wolf Biermann, and Erich Fried, called for solidarity with Vietnam, drew parallels between the killings in Asia and the Holocaust, and expressed criticism against the United States government, media, and military. The Vietnam and Chile poems of the s generation of Romanian-German poets connect to the discourses created by both the German-language anti-war poems and the Martin Luther King speech as represented in Neue Literatur.

Thematic similarities between the two sets of poems are the call for solidarity with the nations in crisis, the thematisation of oppression against one's own people, and the condemnation of American intervention. Given the official suppression of Romania's alliance with Nazi Germany for most of World War II and the co-optation of the German minority by Nazi ideology, thematisations of the latter are rare in Romanian-German poetry. It is unclear, however, if the poem is directed against German or Romanian- German intellectuals. Criticism of the United States' involvement in Vietnam and Pinochet's coup, especially, was controversial in Romania.

This tacit support of the conflicts in Southeast Asia and South America was an unpopular policy with Romania's intellectuals. Sie war gerade achtzehn, heute, da die Zeitung wie immer, eine Spalte Vietnam brachte. Doch sie merkte es nicht, sonst sah sie es auch kaum, jene Spalte Krieg, heute konnte sie es nicht sehen. She was just eighteen, today, as the newspaper brought the usual Vietnam column. But she didn't notice it, barely ever did, that column of war, today she couldn't see it. She stood in front of the mirror, combed a song through her hair and thought herself beautiful.

She stood there for herself in front of the mirror, or perhaps she stood for that young man she had never seen. He died at the same time, in Vietnam, but the kind of death that will never appear in a paper. They never saw each other and never knew anything, today, when he died and she was eighteen. Its fourteen lines, however, which are broken up by punctuation into a 4 - 4 - 3 - 3 or 4 - 4 - 4 -2 arrangement, suggest one of the strictest of poetic forms — the sonnet. The first two groups of four lines, containing two sentences each, depict the gestures of the girl: The young man is introduced in the last two lines of the second group, where he appears as a possible suitor for the girl.

This impression is strengthened in the next two lines 9 and 10 only to be shattered in line 11 by the information that he has died at the same time. Line 12 which can be read together with line 11 or lines 13 and 14, depending on whether one regards the comma at its end to mark the extension of the previous idea or the beginning of a new one foreshadows the anonymity of his death, which is then restated in the last two lines.

Despite their matter-of-fact tone, lines 13 and 14 now cast a shadow over the event that gives the poem its title and ties the two protagonists together despite their ignorance of one other.

By leaving his protagonists nameless, Sterbling allows his poem to be located in any country sufficiently removed from Vietnam that the latter becomes no more than a short mention in the newspaper. The girl's indifference is paralleled by the indifference of the press the boy's name will not be mentioned in the newspapers and its public. Despite this apathy, however, the poem proposes an inherent connection between the two young people in the two elements of the 78 title: The overlapping of the two protagonists' destinies is fleetingly captured in lines 9 and 10, in which the poem momentarily switches from the simple past the tense denoting narration to the the present denoting immediacy.

The moment captured by the lines suggests a parallel universe connoted by the presence of the mirror , in which their two lives could intersect. Unlike Sterbling's poem, with its use of the generalising third person, Wichner's articulates this desire in the first person. The personal involvement of the speaker is reminiscent of the programmatic declarations in other poems of social criticism of the s generation: The mistrust of received information, already sounded but not elaborated in both Sterbling and Wichner's poems, was to become one of the most wide-spread themes of the poems dealing with crisis situations.

This seemingly positive development is, however, exposed in the second stanza as self-feeding excitement: The poem dramatises an interview with the neighbours of a soldier who has returned from Vietnam. Most of the neighbours underline the normalcy of the veteran's behaviour: The unusual description is disregarded by the reporter, however, who turns his recorder off. The last line of the poem explains the reporter's behaviour as conditioned by the publication for which he writes: The only reason given for the reporter's manipulation of the information he receives from the neighbours — his disregard of the challenging last statement — is the identity of the publication.

The mentioning of the American magazine, however, also questions the conduct of the interviewer, shifting the perspective on the interview process described by the poem from an accidental misconstruction to a deliberate one. That Life magazine had been critical of the Vietnam War since the late s, publishing pictures that concentrated on the human suffering brought on by the conflict,57 is of little consequence for the poem and possibly unknown to the Romanian-German author.

As an American publication, Life was standing in for American influence, of which the young Romanian-German poets were critical, in spite of Romania's mild official position on the issue. The news reports, which are made out to belong to the Vietnam News Agency VNA , are set off from the rest of the text the commentary by the use of a smaller font and a different format. Despite the visual differentiation, the reports and the commentaries are syntactically linked, the last sentence of each of the reports being carried into the commentary.

As Kurt Arne Markel has noted, this procedure makes it difficult to separate the different points of view of the poem 37 , and the commentaries offer as much an in-between-the-lines reading of the terse journalistic language of the news reports as a sounding of the different voices that contribute to the Vietnam discourse. Starting with reports of US attacks against Vietnamese targets, the poem pits the fate of the Vietnamese population against that of Americans, such as the civilian casualties and the fallen bombers in the first part: As Kurt Arne Markel has pointed out, however, the shift in tone and diction at this point in the poem from an almost journalistic style to a colloquial one seems to indicate the insertion of yet another voice in the commentary This mixing of voices, carried throughout the poem, makes an easy differentiation between perpetrators and victims on the part of the reader impossible.

Instead, the end of the stanza condemns human rights violations everywhere, including, one can infer with Kurt Arne Markel, in Romania Despite the multiplicity of points of view represented in the poem, its end suggests a strong anti-American bias. Following an escalating denunciation of the bombing of Vietnam, the third stanza of the poem ends with the threat of retaliation: Written as a string of unpunctuated associations, with words often broken up over two lines, and mixing German with English phrases, the poem presents the Vietnam War from a frog perspective.

The title-less poem is introduced by a quote from the German magazine Stern, which functions as the poem's first stanza: The new experiences they are offered instead are taken with a grim sense of humour: The soldiers, however, are not the ones profiting from the business with their lives: This is reinforced a few lines down, when the deictic reappears for the second and 87 last time in what seems to be an official statement: The quote points to the rise of the new field of genetic engineering in the US, which is here equated with the destruction of the earth.

The quote is followed by a call for conquering both the moon illustrated by the Apollo 12 mission above and the earth and for destroying the earth's features. In a reversal of Isaiah 2: While the criticism of the US in the Vietnam poems of the s generation was a genuine expression against America's policies and its public sphere and was mirrored in other 88 poems,58 the thematisation of crisis situations also offered the poets an opportunity to deflect criticism from Romania onto a different subject.

To mark the symbolic importance of this overlooked moment of national emancipation, the speaker contrasts it with a series of historical downfalls. Each episode evokes an autocratic ruler, from Caligula, over Marie-Antoinette and Hitler to Franco but omitting Stalin, a taboo subject. The focus of the episodes, however, is not on the rulers themselves, but on their relationships with their subjects, which are described as blindly adulatory.

In , bread and other staple foods began to be rationed for the first time since the war, while the energy crisis of ushered in cuts in personal energy consumption heat, light, hot water, gas which only increased through the s. The tone of their critiques sharpened, while, at the same time, the increasing limits posed on free expression challenged them to find more oblique forms of criticism.

Although Meyer referred in her description to East-German prose satire, her observations on the mixing of registers can easily be applied to the Romanian-German poetry of the late s and s: Biting sarcasm takes the place of placatory comedy; often it is paired with open polemic and, temporarily, with resignation.

The positive counterpoint disappears. As announced in the title, the poem is composed of a single stanza of four lines. The alternate rhyme, iambic tetrameter, and syntax of the poem each line corresponds to a sentence and comes to a full stop give the verses a feel of regularity, which stands in opposition with the apparently nonsensical content: Auf hellem Feld ein Gartenzwerg.

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Daneben stampft die Industrie. Ein Kunststoffgalgen auf dem Berg. Ein Land geht langsam in die Knie. Alongside pounds the industry. A plastic gallows on the knoll. A country sinking to its knees. Cut off from each other by the break of the lines and the full sentence stops, the four images of the garden gnome, industry, gallows, and the genuflecting country seem unrelated to one another. The attempt to relate these cryptic images have subjected the poem to more critical 93 scrutiny than any other in post-war Romanian-German literature.

All three interpretations are certainly plausible and, to a certain degree, not mutually exclusive. Is the gnome being threatened by the industry, or is he its master? What is the link between the gnome and the gallows? And is the gnome the country brought to its knees, or is he the one causing it to do bow down? While no possibility can be excluded entirely, the symmetrical syntax suggests a thematic symmetry, which may supply a key to the understanding of the poem. Each pair of lines and contains a contrast: A second symmetry is established between the rhyming lines and The equation is further justified by the German origin of the garden gnome in direct translation: The size and location of each object, however, places them in the same contrast as before: The latter seems to suggest that the dwarf stands in the same relationship to the gallows as the country in line 4 and could, therefore, be a representation of the country.

In that case, the synthetic material which links the gnome to the gallows points to the created character of both: The interpretations of the garden gnome, however, are not exhausted by these associations. Unlike the stomping industry and the gallows, whose meanings are relatively stable, the gnome eludes pinpointing. As an object belonging to the garden and not to the field, the gnome is out of place, his small size in the vastness of space enhancing the idea of isolation. The emotion that the gnome evokes — whether pity or derision — largely depends, however, on the individual reader's associations.

Yet while the indeterminacy of the gnome's identity raises questions about the limits of Bossert's criticism how far did he really go? Yet while the personality cult insisted on this rise as the accomplishment of an extraordinarily gifted individual, Kolf's poems represent it as the inglorious gain of a charlatan. Two of the poems, based on the stories of the wolf and the seven little kids and of the valiant little tailor respectively,65 foreground the lie through which the characters convince others of their worthiness. The title of Kolf's series does not only allude to the stories of the brothers Grimm, but also to the grim reality of life under a totalitarian regime.

This reality is present in the coupling of the motif of gaining power with that of ruling through fear. The first stanza lists a number of actions, which, like the reward — the throne — are well-known attributes of the fairytale hero. In fairytales, this ending is usually applied to the hero and heroine and speaks to their immortality both as supernatural beings and as the story-teller's creation. Powerful and powerless at once, the story tellers are thus revealed to be living a double reality: Although telling stories has long been associated with telling lies, for a Romanian- German audience in the s, Kolf's poem would have had a particular poignancy.

The emphasis on the third person singular masculine pronoun in the lead-up to this designation was also part of the rhetoric of the cult of personality. The death threat to which the 99 last two lines hint would have also been understandable. The first five stanzas describe an evening in a village tavern full of sensory details: The collective impression of these details is one of decay and alienation, a world consisting of rubble pieces and jarring contrasts. Its inhabitants appear disconnected from each other, their words and actions unrelated to the reality surrounding them.

The feeling of alienation is reinforced by the appearance, in stanza 6, of a first-person speaker, who immediately seeks to flee the scene, although stanza 7 discloses that he is also sympathetic to the misery he witnesses. Neither the dismal environment nor its depressed inhabitants the building brigade fails to achieve even at drinking conforms with the official representation of village life in s Romania. This mediated image of agrarian accomplishment stands in marked contrast with the poor performance of the village,66 a disparity which prompts the disgust of the first- person speaker.

In addition to an elaborate scenario, Hodjak's short poem also boasts a large cast of characters. Among these, the village idiot and the grave digger are typical for the socially marginal characters favoured by Hodjak for their ability to move outside of the conventions of state and society. As the fulfilment of wishful thinking, the death of the hero in Hodjak's poem is therefore particularly funny and satisfying. In contrast to the superficial response of the audience within the poem, the speaker's own is visceral.

Powerless to transform his vision into a suitable message, however, the speaker calls doubt on his poetic enterprise, his final lament expressing the same powerlessness to affect the situation faced by his audience. At the Limits of Social and Political Criticism: A Winter Tale], the associations of winter and its semantic field in Romanian-German poetry are not satirical. Kory's analysis focuses, however, on enlightenment and colour metaphors, whose use still implies the desire for and belief in social change Kory's examples date from the mid s.

Unlike these metaphors, the figurative uses of winter and its semantic field in the s denote the absence of any hope in positive change, as well as of the belief in the communicative ability of poetry which had previously sustained this hope. Ostensibly a depiction of the speaker's personal problems caused by his inability to make a difference through his writing and by failed love relationships, the poem expresses despair in a world over which the individual has no control. Ich esse gefrornen Zement. I eat frozen cement. I wish I had the power to mix up the seasons, prevent ice ages.

Not surprisingly, at the end of the poem, the speaker is in the process of leaving the country which is now completely blanketed in snow: A common thread through the winter poems of the s is the threatened existence of the Romanian-German community as experienced by its isolated intellectuals. This isolation is sounded in the disappearance of both what the Romanian-German poets once construed as a relatively open public sphere and of the community of friends and associates who chose the last resort of emigration.

The loss of belief in the power of poetry to provide alternatives to the official discourse of the communist government is already noticeable in Richard Wagner's Die Invasion der Uhren [The Clock Invasion] from The first-person speaker of the poem, a writer, is no exception.

The poem begins abruptly with the image of snow stealing into the speaker's mind and causing him to lose the ability to write: The discourse alluded to in the metaphorical use of snow is depicted as relatively benign at the beginning of this segment: Ein Blick aus dem Fenster: There's a reason he's called Caraiman, the black scholar. Everyone can take a running jump as far as he's concerned this season — if they can. Passagen [Country in My Head. This solitary figure, patiently carrying its cross a reference to the World War I monument marking the mountain peak , is seen as one of suffering but also of retreat from the world.

Es ist, wie das Schweigen, nichts als eine Form der Sprachlosigkeit, schlimmer noch, als mit Blindheit geschlagen zu sein. Like silence, it is nothing but a kind of speechlessness, worse than being afflicted with blindness. Not even the act of solidarity circumscribed in the holding of hands can save the threatened group: Drawing on the tradition of nature poetry, the poem constructs a hidden parallel between the migration of birds and the emigration of the Romanian-German minority: So wars im Mai 29 the ravens draw their circles under the sky.

The poem is deceptive in the simplicity of its images. While the first line seems to indicate a generic image of ravens circling in the autumn sky, in the next three lines, each type of bird mentioned is followed by a personification: These last two statements, which stand out from the rest of the poem through their brevity, conceal the real tragedy behind the autumnal tableaux: Although the speaker evaluates the choice to emigrate positively those who go are designated as world travellers and trailblazers , the impact of that choice is portrayed as unequivocally bleak.

If the poetry of the late s and early s describes the isolation of the individual — the effect of the minority's emigration — as in process, by the end of the s the desolation of those left behind is complete. As one of the few Romanian-German poets of the post-war generation to have remained in the country until the fall of the communist regime in December , Franz Hodjak was also the last to publish a volume of poetry there.

Written in sentences of varying length and alternating between full and elliptical clauses in the manner of a report, the first stanza takes stock of the speaker's surroundings with apparent detachment. The sudden revelation of the snow — the image occupying the whole second stanza — suggests, through the link to the many winter poems in post-war Romanian-German literature, a context for the interpretation of the seemingly disconnected elements.

The lack of communication implied by the substitution of tea for letters as a restorer of the senses a giver of life and by the dead pigeon and the disappointed expectation of change in the personification of the air can thus be read as the effects of emigration felt by those left behind. The simile of the falling angels — an extension of the snow metaphor into the spiritual realm — in the last stanza bears witness to the full extent of the psychological damage of those affected: The gradual changes in critical focus produced different types of social and political criticism, each with its own means, goals, and reception.

Thus, in the s and early s, the focus was provided by the promises of liberalisation and manifested itself in the advocation of open political discussion and even the thematisation of political events. The protest poetry against international conflicts such as the ones in Vietnam and Chile represents the apogee of open criticism in post-war Romanian-German literature. The thematisation of these conflicts allowed the poets entry into the Romanian as well as the international public sphere through topics that were, given Romania's ambiguous official position on the conflicts, at once controversial and safe.

This highly charged political criticism was only possible, however, under the cover of irony and metaphor and relied heavily on an informed audience for its effect. Although not intended primarily as a poetry of criticism, the poems of the s depicting the degrading personal situation of the post-war generation caused by the country's harsh political climate achieved the biggest critical resonance and helped elucidate Romanian conditions for an international audience.

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Shifting Positions In addition to seeking entrance into the Romanian public sphere with texts proclaiming their social engagement, the young German poets who debuted in the late s and early s also sought to distance themselves from the legacy of the Saxon and Swabian communities from which they had originated. For the young Romanian-Germans, the closed, often rural communities of their origin, intent on self-preservation through the exclusion both of ethnic others and of other points of views, were antithetical to the open exchange of ideas towards which the post-war generation was striving.

Critical distance from the minority's traditions thus became a facet of the young poets' early social engagement and a necessary step towards their integration in the public sphere. Discursively, the generation's rejection of the cultural heritage of the minority was prepared by debates and discussions initiated in Romania's German media in the second half of the s. Die Menschen hatten sich in den Grenzen der Zeit eingerichtet. They had recovered from the war and the post-war period, from deportations and sanctions.

The people had adjusted to the limits of the time. While the temporary recovery of the Romanian-German communities provided the ground for the cultural renaissance which helped produce the s generation of poets, in the sparser literary landscape before the generation's collective debut, critical discussions of the cultural life of the German minority were often oriented towards the past. If the spring survey was mainly concerned with the categorisation of the previous literature of the Transylvanian Saxons and Banat Swabians, a follow-up round table discussion in the fall of the same year and published in Neue Literatur the following spring already centered on contemporaneous — and newly designated — Romanian-German literature.

The s generation of poets took up the task with enthusiasm, seeking detachment from a cultural heritage which they felt reflected the worst characteristics of the minority: While extensive research is available on the uses of Heimat in German and Austrian literature and culture see, for instance, the volumes by Boa and Palfreyman, Helfried Seliger, and Peter Blickle , the following section rests on the specific Heimat discourse created by Romanian-German journalism between the s and 80s. In fact, freed from the restrictions of censorship the essay was published in West Germany after the author's emigration , Wagner cements the link by drawing a direct parallel between the minority's — in this case, Banat Swabians' — collaboration with Nazi Germany and the cultural traditions the ethnic group attempted to pass down to an unwilling post-war generation: These men and women wanted to put us in their traditional costumes and make us dance to their oompah music.

Wagner places the group's beginnings in the context of the relative recovery of the Banat Swabians in the s quoted above , after a war which had had disastrous consequences for them. Speaking after his emigration to West Germany in , Wagner could be blunt about the Nazi legacy of the Banat Swabians,73 a topic Schlesak could merely hint at in s Romania. The circumstances and reasons for this commitment are elaborated in Paul Milata's Zwischen Hitler, Stalin und Antonescu: A conciliatory tone had already been sounded by critic Gerhardt Csejka in the early s.

Having heralded a new literary generation in December of ,74 Csejka was no less interested in the continuities of German literature on the territory of Romania. In , Neue Literatur republished an earlier article by Csejka written, according to a note to the text, as an introduction to an anthology of Romanian-German prose in Hungarian translation two years previously , which attempts to elucidate the character of the minority's literature — both Transylvanian Saxon and Banat Swabian — from the changes in its socio-historical context.

Isolated from the mainstream of German language, literature, and culture, pre-war Saxon and Swabian writers did not have the luxury of purely artistic pursuits, Csejka argues. Instead, the literature of the geographically isolated and politically marginalized Saxons and Swabians was a response to the communities' need for self-preservation. Yet the critic is not ready to dismiss the cultural legacy of the German minority, to which he acknowledges a complicated relationship An important exception is constituted by a project undertaken by the journal between and to inspire a new discussion about Heimat among Romanian-Germans.

By the time the proceedings of this last roundtable were published, most members of the post-war generation had left the country. Among those quoted in the discussion, which is marked by discord and a palpable anxiety, only Franz Hodjak and critic Peter Motzan belong to the s generation. The discussion is prefaced by two articles on the meanings of Heimat, penned by critics Stefan Sienerth and Peter Motzan respectively. By choosing a historical Sienerth and a theoretical Motzan approach to the subject matter, the two critics manage to elide the discussions about the homeland of the Romanian-Germans and its representations which had dominated earlier debates but which had become problematic topics in late s Romania.

Not surprisingly, it is the latter combination which finds most resonance with the participants and which is invoked in Franz Hodjak's pladoyer for home as a location of safety and permanence: Last but not least, Heimat also means the manner in which one writes — for a responsible writer, at any rate. For literature can not only make one conscious of one's home but can be home in and of itself, and whoever has lost his language.

By bringing together the topics of Heimat, continuity, and literature, Hodjak returns the discussion to the previous terms of debate surrounding the legacy of the Transylvanian Saxons and Banat Swabians without, however, referring to these directly. This appeal notwithstanding, the refuge of the writer in the language demonstrates Hodjak's doubt that the German communities still had a future in Romania, a doubt which would be justified two years on by the near-disappearance of the German settlements of Romania. In the case of the Transylvanian Saxons, this environment is a highly codified landscape, dominated by the silhouettes of the mountains ensconcing human settlements and of church towers rising up from them.

Scheichl One could speak here of an ideologisation of the landscape and of architecture which can be observed in many nations. Vater, sag mirs doch! Siehst du im Osten jener blauen Berge Joch? Die Kirchenburg erhebt sich noch in alter Pracht. Man denkt, sie sei noch da, die Zeit der Macht.

Noch heute steht der Bau gar stolz und warm Father, tell me please! Do you see the blue mountains in the east? Far yonder, where a thousand swallows fly into the light must our homeland lie. The rich fields there wink in golden glow, the hills of vines and verdure overflow. And everything we laid in the dark earth, she's given back a hundred times its worth. And from the green, dream-like and yet so clear, you see the image of our village now appear. The church still stands with mighty walls and tower. It seems it's not yet passed, our glory hour.

The building still stands ardent and erect And for this reason I doubly love this land. What Heimat is, child, now you understand? Hajek's elaborate panorama is not a depiction of an actual place, but an aggregate of all the traditional features of the literary Transylvanian landscape: The absence of cities from this landscape is conspicuous, especially given the fact that Hajek was himself an urban dweller. Literally nestled between them lines is a region of perfect symbiosis between the natural and the human worlds, represented by the cultivated fields, vine-covered hills, and the vegetation-protected rest of the villagers.

By line 12, the natural cycle of life and the history of the Transylvanian Saxons appear at odds with each other. Yet it is exactly from this opposition that the speaker derives his attachment to the homeland, which he attempts to inculcate in the next generation. In contrast to Transylvanian-German poetry, which resuscitates feelings of ethnic belonging out of images of loss and decay, the landscapes of Banat-Swabian verse are represented as flourishing: If in the verse of the [Transylvanian poets] the image of the landscape suggests the deterioration of the Saxon population, the nature and landscape descriptions in Banat Swabian poetry give the impression of confidence.

Under the influence of the title farmers, which in the poem are endowed with mythical powers, the importance of the Banat landscape is magnified, as it becomes the very home of civilization: Das Blut rollt schwer in ihren Adern, Und wetterhart ist ihr Gesicht. They stride through the world like giants From old legends And crops and meadows spring up, Wherever their plows leave their furrows. The blood rolls thickly in their veins, And their faces are hardened by the weather. They erect the cathedral of work And are apostles of duty.

Wherever they silently descend, They bring blessings, And roads and streets are created, To the delight of the wanderer. Wherever they clear the wilderness, They bring progress to the land, Cities shoot up from the ground there, As if from under a wizard's hand. The poem plays upon the achievements of the Swabians as successful settlers on inhospitable soil: Interspersed with the mythological and religious imagery is a catalogue of Swabian virtues: Although the Banat-Swabian tradition meets the Transylvanian-Saxon one in the belief in a calling to defend and cultivate the land, the Swabian environment of identification is one created — mastered even — by the Swabian settlers, rather than one of symbiotic harmony between humans and nature.

The early verse of the s generation often deconstructs these claims by representing the Saxon and Swabian environments of identification as the settings of outmoded lifestyles and beliefs, boredom, and decay. In direct translation, the title qualifies the once mythicised Banat landscape as banal and disordered, like a dish of scrambled eggs. Also part of this lack of specificity is the absence of a clear designation of the location as a village or a town. The description, however, implies a very traditional and provincial setting, associated by the generation with rural environments.

The poem alternates gestures of boredom and absent-mindedness located in natural elements the forgetful rain, the lying dust, the blinking sun with portents of increasingly more sinister human activities. The unsettling juxtaposition between extremely ordinary occurrences in the natural environment and the foreboding activities of the human world is heightened by the distancing manner of the description. In the s, however, the festival reappears in poetry as the symbol of a dying community: The narrow, trivialising perspective was forced open, the linden tree at the edge of the village cut down, the village fountain with its life- giving water abandoned, the fields of home not haloed anymore as sources of identity, etcetera etcetera.

Speaking from a distance of over two decades and in characteristic ironic manner, Hodjak both abbreviates and exaggerates the processes of renewal that characterise the poetry of the s generation. Where the elements of the landscape the linden tree, the village, the fountain, and the field had traditionally stood for strength, endurance, and a secure sense of identity, for the young generation represented by Hodjak they had become synonymous with provincialism, constriction, triviality, and predictability, all of which the poets sought to forcibly remove from their poetry.

Although speaking here as the former German editor of the Dacia publishing house, Hodjak himself was one of the most fruitful practitioners of the dismantling of the traditional Romanian-German landscape. The temporal melange seems for a while to suspend the fortress in time: The once proud fortress, built in the Middle Ages to stave off the advancement of the Ottomans, is not just a ruin, but a symbol of the lost purpose of the Transylvanian Germans. In the absence of the menacing Turks, an identity of the Transylvanian Saxons predicated upon the defence of the land and of Christianity has become obsolete.

Gisela Frick - Hassenberg. To hear on Sunday 7 and 14 May , 2pm - 9pm: The Trash Music piece follows my interests in ecology and environment. Since autumn , I have been discovering how to play the trash and learning about its music. The Salton Sea in southern California brings a whole new meaning to the sublime as it contains both the awe-inspiring possibilities of a spiritual experience as well as terror and abject fear —especially of death.

This project is a remnant of that same heritage of sublime art that seeks to engage the beauty and the terrifying danger of nature while examining both our reliance on and abuse of nature… it asks, what is ultimately left of the sublime? Can we inspire awe from terror? They also meditated on the vastness, infinity, magnificence and the resulting exultation, the possibility of being raised up, temporarily overwhelmed in a spiritual sense and being made to feel small in the face of overwhelming emotion and the awe which nature can inspire. This transcendental desire has humans seeking a god or something greater in nature.

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Salton Sublime meditates on the meaning of sublime today in the midst of massive environmental degradation. Poets and painters of the 18th century sought a religious experience in the sublime continence of nature. He got big effect from this tragedy. Since after, he has been visiting the stricken area many times, and he has been taking photos there until now. The situation of pollution has not changed still now. Even forest, fields, dwelling, lake, marsh and mud. Landscape where everything is with radioactive material, nothing changes. I have been entering this zone since I took landscapes without human beings.

I just took branches, leaves, earth that are totally contaminated. I tried many experiments how to change in quality pictures in the mud, swamp. That's why I cannot overlook those photos that are rescued from the disaster. Those emulsions are exfoliated and changed in appearance. Even if they were lost by their families, I could accept strong memory that kept. Those were memories of lost families and proof of missing lives. And those pictures had been metamorphosed by chemical reaction in the mud. Especially, they fascinated me, because I already have interest in chemical change of emulsion of printed photo paper by mud since Tohoku earthquake and tsunami happened in March 11th.

Oddly strangely, the rescue parties searching for victims gradually also started looking for photographs buried by flood damage. Those were memories of lost families and proof of missing lives Disaster and tragedy are always existing with big noise. Even if happened by nature or human being they needed big sound as their 'background music'. Moreover they wanted crying and many shouts from human mouth as additional sound.

We want to represent this kind of 'background music' to the photographs of Tsutomu Otsuka. He knows that there will be coming silence by coagulation after. For this two Sundays exhibition you will be able to hear material from our first intervention and you will be asked to vote on whether to vote or not to vote and share your thoughts with us.

After we went to the concert venue and reproduced the files while people were drinking. We started informal conversations with members of the audience but the audience thought that there was nothing going on. After two and a half hours a concern formulated privately by a member of the audience was shared to everybody in the room:. Nach zweieinhalb Stunden wurde eine Frage, die von einem Mitglied des Publikums privat formuliert worden war, mit allen im Raum geteilt:. Dies ist ein laufendes Forschungsprojekt, welches die Beziehung zwischen Demokratie und experimenteller Musik erkundet.

September , dem Wahltag in Berlin. In Vorbereitung auf dieses Konzert riefen wir alle politischen Parteien an, stellten mehrere Fragen und nahmen sie auf. Vor dem Konzert gingen wir zum Wahllokal und nahmen dort den Umgebungssound auf.

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In the composition, I have taken this historical category of folk poems, and spiced it with irritating moments and associative ideas in order to break the sentimental tonal basis. I found the juxtaposition of harmony and disturbing elements to be most interesting. Acoustical as well as visual material gets worked over, ordered and concentrated. Oil, water sugar and Mariechen.. Seen from the middle of the kitchen, perhaps from the stove, a sort of kitchen-scape exists, where pans clatter and soup simmers.

Die Sehnsucht ist gross.

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Je suis in the kitchen - Audio-Videoarbeit Sonntag 4. Creative workshop and audio correspondence with 8 parisian women from North Africa: Aufnahmen und Treffen von Februar bis Mai im Februar , 14 - 21 Uhr: Die Kompositionen sind algorithmisch, nach mathematischen Zahlenreihen, gestaltet. To hear on Sunday 23 and 30 October , 2pm - 9pm: Oktober , 14 - 21 Uhr: Audio Field Reports nos. Interview mit Jaap Blonk von Knut Remond. With the ohrenhoch version different materials turntable diamond stylus, chisel Bei der ohrenhochversion treffen unterschiedlichste Materialien Plattenspieler-Diamantenadel, Meissel The sound production is based on the friction of two or more materials which either are placed in the vise or laid on the metal disc.

Die Klangerzeugung basiert auf Reibung zweier oder mehrerer Materialien, die, entweder im Schraubstock eingespannt oder auf die Metallplatte gelegt werden. To hear on Sunday 9 and 16 October , from 2pm to 9pm: Andreas Trobollowitsch when preparing acoustic turntable. The piece is inspired by the conviction that life — and survival — in the age of the anthropocene will require the radical re-making of dominant human culture. In the Throat of Trees proposes a culture grounded in empathetic listening to the non-human, rooted voices of the world around us.

The listening instructions invite the audience to listen as trees. Trees operate within a completely different scale of time and movement from humans — what might we learn from them if we stopped to listen? Stephanie Loveless on 'In the Throats of Trees': The composition is built up of recordings the artist vocalizing with the sound of wind through the branches of five species of trees — larch, birch, pine, spruce, maple — making a dark forest of sound.

William Shakespeare Expulsion, hunger, poverty, nationalism, racism. Dead or Ice Cream September , 14 - 21 Uhr. Die Sound-Installation osziliert u. Audio Field Report no.