ÜÜÜ

Basel, 14.09.25

First I think I double-pressed and didn’t record what I said at all. Then I waited for a quarter of an hour in front of this stupid church that rang its bells as if there really were no tomorrow. And when I realized it wasn’t worth waiting — because it would go on forever — I tried to walk away from the clanging. I did record, but it was still way too loud. And all you can hear is bells, and the AI somehow thinks it’s English, and I can’t get it to just transcribe it into German. But honestly I have zero patience to listen to my own voice again and again to transcribe it myself. So: first day it didn’t work. But fine, I think from what I could make out of the garbled English transcription, it’s basically that the part about Liina’s first piece is missing. Of course, I also have no idea anymore what I actually said there. Doesn’t matter, you can always redo it. At least something short to fill that gap. In a way, it’s part of the text that sometimes it just breaks. Still, you want everything to have its place somehow. Especially since I thought that piece was really great, even though I came late. I don’t know how much is already missing or how much is in there, but I said before that I actually thought it was great. Sure, a shame — but I liked that I was late, because it made me think differently about what I saw. When you’re not quite sure: what’s what, where did this painting come from, did she make it, was it already there, what counts as part of the performance? I mean, of course it was clear it happened during the performance, you only see the traces left behind. So you have to ask people how they experienced the first part. That was interesting, to hear it retold. Like, she shuffled onto stage with a dragging leg. Anyway, I think I’ll just make this today’s recording — a kind of afterword to yesterday — and the text stays as it was. I think that’s a good solution.

The first solo piece was just totally on point. Basically classical, theatrical entrance, with three props. A solo show, but playing her own piece — not just as an actress taking on someone else’s character. So different in that way. And such a cool switching between roles. Perfect overacting in some spots, but then pulling it back again. Song interludes, and wow, such amazing singing. She can really do everything: dance, sing, act. Small, but so strong, such great stage presence. You just can’t look away. She was also at the festival the whole time with a little — I think it’s a Chihuahua? — totally cute, always in her handbag, and I think also very proud. And then through all these different media and also gestures that circled around dominance, mastery, control. But wrapped in one figure, a bit schizophrenic. And also really humorous elements, scenes where… where she appeared more as a real estate agent, selling something, like hyping up a container as a castle. Anyway, it was just really well done. In the middle, I saw this video where the same actress moves through a hotel. And all those real estate phone calls circled back to that container, presented like a castle. In the video it turns out the castle is also a hotel. So this whole thing of selling something as something else. Silence as tolerance… I don’t even remember the exact pairings anymore, but it was such a nice metaphor that got you thinking: that you can sell anything as something else and make use of it, that this is done all the time. Anyway, I’ll leave it at that. I said more yesterday, but now it’s already two days later, which is not ideal.

All the better to jump to yesterday’s and final evening of ÜÜÜ. Well, where do I start? Our familiar intro was this time played live. Then one of the hosts, with two others, performed. While it was going on I was already thinking what to write about it. And only lovingly meant roast-lines came to mind. I wondered, like, yeah, on the last evening the hosts show what they think performance is and üben looks like. What utter nonsense. Lots of plastic. Things happening at the same time and nobody knows why or where to look. An imposing scenography, lots of smoke — then nothing matters anymore — plus in the middle a glowing cross, hanging crookedly. You could call it disconnected silly performance nonsense, if you wanted to be mean. You could ask what it was, what you’d just seen. The aesthetics very nostalgic too. Berlin in the 80s. I don’t know much, but kind of. Wavy sound, smog, black trash bags on the floor. Some other fabrics thrown on top. Why? Who knows. No, kidding, of course it was great. It really felt like it was being practiced live. A nice contrast to the meticulously rehearsed 40-minute solo shows — just to watch a trio-chaos. Fun fun fun. All very post-ironic with a big wink. But I’m not sure if everyone got that, or if that’s even what it was. It was also very serious, very heavy. Really, it was total trash :)

Anyway, next came Ricardo’s second film. We had already seen El Diablo a few days earlier. Now came REBECA. Same carnival, same city, same season. Slightly different time — went into the night. And another, let’s call her moderator: REBECA. REBECA was shameless, deadpan. She startled people. Wonderful. A totally different thing than the first film. But the same blissful smile you have while watching. You just want one of Ricardo’s carnival films every week. Wild how differently people react to a different presence, and also to the kinds of questions… and when provocative questions come from a woman, in this bone-dry delivery, people just couldn’t handle it.

Ah yes, and then there was, speaking of timing, a trippy not-live, live-listening session. Not live, because the sounds weren’t produced live, but the whole setup was so crazy nerdy. With vinyl records that weren’t pressed, but scratched or played live, then going into a mixer. Hooked up to a tape machine, producing what you’d call echoes. And the space was really just these fragments of a composition, remixed live pretty randomly. And when he explained it — total YouTube “this is my setup” vibes — I was like, what’s going to happen now? But it turned into a beautiful hour. Spaced out, lying on the tartan floor. Shoutout to that tartan floor, by the way, which accompanied the whole festival. You could fly on it, dance, jump, sink into it. Perfect. When I think of PracticePracticePractice, I also think of that surface, that materiality. Anyway, we could drink red wine and lie on the tartan floor for an hour, and even though — when he explained it I thought, okay, this is going to be totally unlistenable experimental noise — but what came out, you can’t re-hear, he said. It exists only once in the room. But yes, a beautiful meditative journey through his sound world.

And of course, like any good event, Üben Üben Üben had to be properly boozed up on the last night. And since we were left a bit in the lurch — no, not true — but since we were fewer people by then, we had to toast ÜÜÜ all the more. And we really took this task seriously, with the warmest hearts, and let the evening end in style, making full use of the sound system one last time. And who would have thought, there was still a little performance lurking in each of us. But that performance stayed just between us.

Well, and now comes the very last performance, the seventh day. My god, who would’ve thought a week actually has seven nights, seven days, seven days in Basel! Without going broke — you’d have to be really bored for that. Okay, maybe scratch “bored.” But seven days in Switzerland, that’s something.