Elke Krasny What the city has given me, is its longing. Longing is contagious. It seduces you to
more and more, it transforms the city to this space of longing in which passion and fantasy meet, exploration and investigation, projection and imagination. The
city is such a structure which today already is what it wasn't anymore yesterday. The city is such a structure that raises sympathy and promises anonymity. The
city is such a structure that reinvents itself constantly while still remaining true to itself. The city is such a structure which gives you more to read than the
eye can reach. In this cosmos of polyphony I see the city as space of articulation between dissonance and harmony, between discontinuity and traditions. Precisely
there in between, the city is nearest and most vulnerable: in short most alive. I see the city as a storehouse of times, vivid and yet still aloof, familiar
and yet distant. Which traditions can be read in a city, is a question of attitudes and politics. I read Vienna as a city of those arriving. The possibility to
arrive is interdependent on the mindset of those already arrived. Mindsets relate to politics and opinions, education and views. If the city could read itself
differently in historical distances, then its proximities would relocate themselves. In the course of the 19th Century the city became more. Also my
ancestors immigrated at that time. Czech, Jewish, Hungarian, Moravian, Slovak, Polish, Ruthenian, Ukrainian, Gallien, Slavonian, Romanian, Croatian, Italian,
Slovenian... How the city became more, can be felt today, as the city tries again to become more. How the city became more is something that the present is trying
not to let feel, as the city tries to become more again. Hungarian, Polish, Serbian, Croatian, Bosnian, Herzegovinian, Philippine, Turkish, Chilean, Colombian,
Nigerian, Albanian, Venezuelan, US-American, German, Chechen, Iranian, Russian, Iraqi, Angolan, Mexican, Vietnamese, Chinese, Japanese, Latvian, Indian ... The
histories of the city are located just there, in its heterogeneity, in its specificity of diversity. If the city is close to you, then grief, angriness and
melancholy rise as well as the dissatisfaction with the city not being as close to itself as it could be in its function as multiethnic metropolis of transnational
lifestyle. The city can't live its longings, it is hindering itself to arrive in the Present. It is noticeable that the city has not arrived yet in its
Present, although today it is already such as it wasn't anymore yesterday. But just because of that, the city has remained a space of longings for me. Not the
childish joy of recognizing the known accompanies the path of the adult, but the urge to discover the permanence of change, breathing also and precisely there, in
all micro-tracks of the big motions of the world. Precisely therefore, I follow the city and read in its rhythm, what it has to say. Again and again.
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