Once upon a time, Anton and Marika stood on the Barcelona Zoo lawn, taking photos of each other in the dark. It was night. They were naked because had been smeared with medicine gel, standing with legs and arms apart to dry, and their bodies looked shining. It was a moment before the irrigation system was about to turn on, of which Anton and Marika had no idea: fountains of water in the dark would rush on them in half a second. Artists have not noticed that they were spied on from the bushes by those who would steal all their things a few minutes later.
If one in his solitude may drop out of the inter-human world, two always carry it between. Anton and Marika met at the Murano pier at the end of October 2014, having arrived from different places. That same night, they threw all their swag into the lagoon to start something new.
“Getting dressed up in a Chinese store like a royal family in exile, we flew from Venice to Nepal without an idea to come back anywhere. We stopped enclosing ourselves in flats with a world beyond. So often as we can converse and think, we detect the same world inside any room. We no longer live in one place, not because one is not enough. But the opposite — every next spot turns out to be the same.
On the sideway in Budapest, Luang Prabang, Rome; on the rooftop in Seoul or Kathmandu; on the balcony in our studio on Rabochaya St. in Moscow; in a cafe in Porto or Yerevan, in the forest, in the city, in the fields, in the cabins, in the boats, on the night road — wherever we could talk to each other is the same still stream, into which you can step twice or trice, you may ever enter it.”
In the spring of 2015, Marika and Anton rented an office in an empty administrative building in Dresden. The chief, a Right party voter, and Putin admirer leased a room on the condition that they would not live there but only work. But M&A settled in the office with the bird named Isabella and soon occupied the entire level: “Our life is our work.” They compiled an index of everything in their room and reflected that it meant something. Titled this work Common Body; since then, artists have been fixing this body’s state, rendering new lists of belongings wherever they live.
Anton and Marika were stuck that summer in Barcelona without money. Besides, they had to cure scabies. That night in the zoo, they undressed, smeared with special gel on each other, and were waiting for it to absorb into the skin. The summer was hot, and when the automatic irrigation system started to work, they and their things got wet instantly. They hung clothes on the trees around the brightly lit empty dance arena and climbed onto it. M&A had a large roll of paper with them; they began to paint it with ink and palm leaves. Were they robbed already? Yes indeed.
List of stolen things:
01. Fine nylon brush from Nepal.
02. China brushes for calligraphy.
03. Fishing bells.
04. Perfume in the glass bottle.
05. Keys to the apartment.
06. MacBook Air, 13-inch.
07. Knitted top from India.
08. Leggins from Venice Chinese shop.
09. Pink plastic folder with three large colored paper envelopes, each with the round stamp “Chaos Sense Delight” and handwritten signature “Common body.”
10. “Magic mold attacks Paris,” inscribed with pocket map drawings.
11. Documents in German. Mietvertrag, Dresden.
12. Notebook with notes.
13. Folding flowers made of rice paper in the homemade gift box with the postcard.
14. Jewellery: golden chain, copper bracelet, a ring with diamonds, a bronze ring with moonstone, Indian ankle bracelet, pearl necklace, silver chain with the turquoise turtle pendant.
15. Sandals.
16. Folder with printouts. Rosalind Epstein Krauss. Die Originalität der Avantgarde und andere Mythen der Moderne.
17. Herbarium.
01. Fine nylon brush from Nepal.
02. China brushes for calligraphy.
03. Fishing bells.
04. Perfume in the glass bottle.
05. Keys to the apartment.
06. MacBook Air, 13-inch.
07. Knitted top from India.
08. Leggins from Venice Chinese shop.
09. Pink plastic folder with three large colored paper envelopes, each with the round stamp “Chaos Sense Delight” and handwritten signature “Common body.”
10. “Magic mold attacks Paris,” inscribed with pocket map drawings.
11. Documents in German. Mietvertrag, Dresden.
12. Notebook with notes.
13. Folding flowers made of rice paper in the homemade gift box with the postcard.
14. Jewellery: golden chain, copper bracelet, a ring with diamonds, a bronze ring with moonstone, Indian ankle bracelet, pearl necklace, silver chain with the turquoise turtle pendant.
15. Sandals.
16. Folder with printouts. Rosalind Epstein Krauss. Die Originalität der Avantgarde und andere Mythen der Moderne.
17. Herbarium.
“So it turns out that the sharpest and most precise observations objectify in the paltriest artifacts. The events of that night still set the scale for our work. We are stretched between a spatial body and the event in the dance arena's space, addicted to the game, while someone is stealing our things.”
This limited bunch of things becomes Marika and Anton's constant companion, forming something like a shared body, over which they follow with interest; that mysterious ontology of things gets the matter of all M&A artistic works. Artists turn their belongings into art objects and then return them to everyday use. Things' artistic destiny is instant and solemn; they never become a product, but return to their source, revealing a flickering trace of Nonknowledge on themselves.