Episode 646: Dan Berger Iceberg Projects

by | Jul 20, 2018 | Podcast


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This week we bring you a special and timely conversation between our very own Dana Bassett and Dr. Daniel Berger recorded at Iceberg Projects where Berger has curated the current show, “Flesh of My Flesh,” an exhibition of painting, film, sculpture, photography and print work by the late David Wojnarowicz. Dan and Dana discuss Wojnarowicz’s aesthetic and historical legacy, the AIDS crisis, and the upcoming screening of Films by David Wojnarowicz and Friends, featuring “Silence=Death.”

Wojnarowicz’s screening takes place this Sunday, July 22nd at Northwestern’s Block Museum. More information can be found here: http://icebergchicago.com/davidwojnarowicz.html.

“Flesh of My Flesh” is on view at Iceberg Projects until August 4th.

Full text of the writing referenced in this interview:
When I put my hands on your body on your flesh I feel the history of that body. Not just the beginning of its forming in that distant lake but all the way beyond its ending. I feel the warmth and texture and simultaneously I see the flesh unwrap from the layers of fat and disappear. I see the fat disappear from the muscle. I see the muscle disappearing from around the organs and detaching iself from the bones. I see the organs gradually fade into transparency leaving a gleaming skeleton gleaming like ivory that slowly resolves until it becomes dust. I am consumed in the sense of your weight the way your flesh occupies momentary space the fullness of it beneath my palms. I am amazed at how perfectly your body fits to the curves of my hands. If I could attach our blood vessels so we could become each other I would. If I could attach our blood vessels in order to anchor you to the earth to this present time I would. If I could open up your body and slip inside your skin and look out your eyes and forever have my lips fused with yours I would. It makes me weep to feel the history of your flesh beneath my hands in a time of so much loss. It makes me weep to feel the movement of your flesh beneath my palms as you twist and turn over to one side to create a series of gestures to reach up around my neck to draw me nearer. All these memories will be lost in time like tears in the rain.

Duncan
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