Sasha Marianna Salzmann’s work features in the group exhibition ›Metaxy: Between Destruction and Reconstruction‹ at Akademie der Künste, which opens on 9 SEP as part of Berlin Art Week.
Do you have a daily ritual that gives you structure or inspiration?
Reading. A day without reading something literary (not non-fiction or reportage, but poetry, plays or fiction) is a day wasted. Fran Lebowitz once said: »Think before you speak. Read before you think.« I couldn’t agree more. I need to read in order to think.
What would you do if time, money, and other resources were no object?
I’ve always wanted to establish an NGO that develops structures that allow refugees to live without depending on the state. I don’t yet know exactly what those structures would look like, but that’s what I’d devote my time, money and resources to.
Has there been a book that fundamentally changed your perspective—and why would you recommend it?
Many books have done that. Novels by Toni Morrison, Han Kang and James Baldwin, for instance. But they hardly need my recommendation—they’re classics. One novel that absolutely deserves to become one is ›It Lasts Forever and Then It’s Over‹ by Anne de Marcken. It’s about a zombie mourning a lost love. Unusual, full of humour, and utterly heartbreaking.
What do you wish you had known earlier?
That you’re allowed to be happy, even when the people you love can’t be.
Where do you recharge your batteries?
With my wife and my friends. I have lots of rituals; one of them is smoking shisha with my best friend. Watching the smoke leave our heads can sometimes do more than any therapy.
Is there a work of art you would love to have in your home?
›Hondo yakatarisana naambuya‹ by Portia Zvavahera
›Drei Grazien‹ by Maria Lassnig
›Leuwenstraat‹ by Tamina Amadyar
Which exhibition venue in Berlin inspires you?
I love spending time in the established museums, as well as places like KW Institute for Contemporary Art, C/O Berlin and Kunstquartier Bethanien, and I’m especially fond of the galleries on Potsdamer Straße. But looking at the graffiti on the Yorckbrücken—and across the city as a whole—feels like breathing fresh air.
What fascinates you about Berlin?
On the one hand, the city leaves no room for illusion. It’s ugly, rough, its walls still pockmarked with bullet holes, many of its backyards still bear the scars of bomb strikes. On the other hand, it’s a space for utopia. Here, the most improbable constellations become possible. Here, the East begins in the West.
What’s one item you couldn’t live without?
I could probably live without any object. It might be worth trying.
What keeps you going?
Writing. When I’m angry, I write. When I’m happy, I write. And when I see that my writing has helped even one person, I know why I’m here.
Which personality would you like to have a conversation with—and what would you talk about?
Dead: Hannah Arendt. Perhaps she’d have an idea of how we might still prevent the political catastrophe that’s heading our way (or at least face it with dignity).
Alive: Kendrick Lamar. I’d ask him about lyrics and flow.
What do you look forward to when your working day comes to an end?
It never really ends, not for anyone who makes art. But I look forward to so many things in the pauses between work. Talking with my wife, for instance, sharing ideas with her. Those conversations provide one of the essential rhythms of my days.