TAUCHERT HANS-JÖRG My Time on the Wall On the Project, JETZT, by Christian Hasucha, Cologne 1989 It begins on Thursday, 7th September, 1989 at 5.50 pm. I am shocked at the huge view that cannot be captured in one glance. On order to see everything whilst sitting, I have to turn my head upwards, downwards, left and right. There is no single background, but many that reach up to the hazy blue horizon and merge with the blue sky above me. The foremost foreground is my knees. On this stage, I can see everyone coming without them seeing me. I look left into an apartment. I talk to one of its inhabitants later in the ‘Venloer Stuben’. He is also looking at me right now instead of at the advertising to my right on the house wall proclaiming, ‘I like smoking’. He had just given up smoking. A woman looks out of the window, unresponsive. I was also later invisible to her. I see immediately who has noticed me, and can study their numerous reactions in peace. I imagine what kind of person they could be. I would be the easiest person to judge: I would be surprised and delighted with the unusual sight that is reinforced with a short flash of JETZT - reinforcing being there - a reflection on the moment of perception that can trigger all sorts of things. The art historian will easily be able to categorise and pack away the image, and perhaps also notice that art here has broken out here from the undisturbed and sheltered, and thus boring, gallery or museum atmosphere into public space where it is accessible to all. Christian Hasucha has thus made his art more independent, has moved from an elitist to a democratic ambient, accessible to any one who comes across it. The indifferent citizen will leave interpretation to others. ‘Already in the NOW?’ The opposite is death. As expected, the police questioned Christian Hasucha whilst photographing on the first day: I see how he gets out his authorisation. A process as from authority to authority. Meanwhile; the royal feeling of sitting above everything, able to hand out doses of JETZT. It is important for me to master the situation optically, i.e., the amount of impressions must not overburden my thoughts, the result would be an unbearable chaos. I have to be calm during the time I sit here. Two metres in front of my eyes there is a thick cable that secures the streetlamp. It makes me dizzy. I’m harnessed in. There is a lot to see: a bar on the corner, a tobacconists, the supermarket. A man points me out to his acquaintances with his finger. It is amazing how people do not really want to know what they see. A police car comes and I see how a policeman climbs out and disappears into the house. It takes quite a while before he is up on the roof with me. He came, he said, because someone had called in and claimed that I wanted to commit suicide whilst lighting up JETZT. But the policeman’s opinion was that there were several indications against this claim: the equipment, the note on the door - ‘Please leave open’. He read the authorisation, which truly is not easy to understand. After noting down my personal details, I may continue to sit. Where will I be saved? Someone got off his bike especially to call up: “The silence of Duchamp is overrated!” This saying of Beuys always seemed nonsense to me. The suicidal variation is elicited daily in similar ways. Children shout, “Jump, jump, you coward” or “Why don’t you jump?” It is bound to get worse. Only once did I hear from a car, “Don’t jump!” Adults, too, dare to shout “Jump!” from passing cars. On Saturday, I heard “Jump!” seven times - the most aggressive day. Is it the full moon? An older man holds up his arms as if he is on a diving board. I am supposed to descend in this manner, which would be to his liking, and everyone else’s, I think. The other major group of callers are more concerned with the question, ‘what is he doing there?’ They could answer this quite easily themselves - he’s sitting! Sitting and not doing is in fascinating contrast to the ant-like frenzy of the people down below. JETZT pulls them out of their dashing about and lets them see how someone in an exposed place does nothing, but differently from them (and it was sometimes dangerous). Doing nothing enjoys great contempt, Buddha also just sat there, and sitting in front of the TV is a widespread activity. Those in cars beneath me and those in planes above are also sitting. Between them the traffic quietens down JETZT. Cars are in general a plague; from Monday to Wednesday the traffic increases rapidly. Each blast on the horn startles me. On Wednesdays there is a traffic jam as far as I can see in the street. I get nauseous. All the time there are more cars than people to be seen. From Thursday the traffic decreases and Sunday is low tide. The police appear again on September 18th. The man shouts up, demanding that I come down. I first have to unbuckle myself, which takes a long time and he takes for a refusal. He asks me what it is supposed to be about, up here. How nice that the authorisation and my identity pass are explanation enough. Have I been drinking alcohol? I had a drink from a mineral water bottle on the roof before I climbed into the chair. A sensation-seeking interpretation. Then I sat down again. The next day I meet the neighbour on the roof. She compliments me on the good weather and, although she lives at the back, she knows the police have been there twice. This is incomprehensible to her. They must know about it in this small district. I show understanding. We know less of each other, the more technical the communication is. A young man calls up, “What’s that all about, up there?” Now the onlookers are naturally excited; he’s asking on behalf of everyone. But I remain motionless, scared. He looks up for a long time, waiting for an answer and I look calmly down the whole time. So the mystery remains, the surprise in the city. I often watch gestures of puzzlement. Cyclists see me, ride on and then stop; a delayed puzzlement takes place. It is very different to animated advertising with all its tricks to encourage buying; long seen through, they persistently torment us everywhere. JETZT is not based on purchasing intent. Enough in itself, it is the wonder in the city. Which answers the correct question posed by a young girl, “Why are you sitting there?”. HANS-JÖRG TAUCHERT (actor) Cf. Project documentation Nr. 11 JETZT (NOW)