TABLE OF CONTENTS

PRINT February 2011

Gelitin

Gelitin on “Boring Island,” Stockholm, 2009. From left: Tobias Urban, Ali Janka, Florian Reither, Wolfgang Gantner.

GELITIN

GELITIN IS A SALAD. It grows on a field of possibilities and is always looking forward to the next surprising leaves. Gelitin was not formed by any programmatic idea of collaborative authorship, but by accident. We met through work, by liking each other’s way, and soon we started folding in and over each other like leaves, with the works crumbling out like earth in between. The salad was blue, then rotten, and now it is yellow; Gelitin is curious about what energy frequency it will produce next. You can share an energy that comes about through the excitability of the air and the resonance of tones. The most common question we get is “how” we work together—as if we would have ever sat down and formed a parliament and voted for a common recipe for cooking the soup. We trust each other’s fancy, and rather than negotiate, we prefer to hit each other with our elbows or spread kisses and do the work.

In the summer of 2009, we formed a public sculpture on a tiny island near Stockholm. On our “Boring Island,” we were trapped boatless for one month, dressed in virgin-white wedding dresses, idling about and occasionally attracting a ship to crash on our rock.

The tiny island was our plinth for a nervous sculpture jiggling with boredom, ready to be taken away. But so far, no boat has crashed on Gelitin’s shores, and no one has escaped to become something more . . . useful.

Gelitin is based in Vienna.