Es geht bergauf!
Ein Theaterstück
von Detlev Foth
Evi, die Lehrerin, und Laurenz, der gescheiterte Geschäftsmann, besuchen Manhold, den Werbefotografen und seine Frau Ira, das Ex-Modell. Der Abend gerät mehr und mehr zu einer allgemeinen Bloßstellung, bis das Au-pair-Mädchen Lyaman ungewollt für eine denkwürdige Wendung sorgt.
Who needs a passport in a free world?!
video , fotoworks and music
Detlev Foth
2009
A broken glass was loud in my brain 1 Der Heilige Hieronymus im Gehäuse Zeitreise Düsseldorf
A broken glass was loud in my brain
It used to fall on my dreams and cut me in my bed
It used to fall on my dreams and cut me in my bed
I say making love was strange in my bed
Jimi Hendrix
Foth Signatur
Gabriele Münter
Paul Flora
sleeping dog
Sinister minister
Priester 1
Ozzy Osbourne 4
Munch
Munch studio
Ray Davies 3
Ray Davies 2
The Kinks – better days
Leon Bonnat – in the studio
Jimi Hendrix
Jimmy Page 2
Jimmy Page
Ray Davies 4
Slash
Munch Family 2
Ekely Home
The Kinks – better days 2
Jimmy Page and Gibson
A broken glass was loud in my brain – writing
I used to live in a room full of mirrors
All I could see was me
Then I take my spirit and I smash my mirrors
And now the whole world is here for me to see
Jimi Hendrix
A broken glass was loud in my brain -the Munch family
The Beatles
A broken glass was loud in my brain – Düsseldorf
A broken glass was loud in my brain – John Lennon
A broken glass was loud in my brain – Jimi Hendrix
A broken glass was loud in my brain – The Dakota Hotel
A broken glass was loud in my brain – studio
A broken glass was loud in my brain – The Beatles
Francis Bacon and William S. Burroughs city nature
Der Blaue Reiter
vlnr: Wassily Kandinsky, Cuno Amiet, August Macke, Helmuth Macke, Frau Amiet, Heinrich Campendonk, Louis Moilliet
Kindheit
David Hockney, plötzlich kopflos
Francis Bacon besucht die Wiesenstraße, gelassen
David Hockney
Francis Bacon
David Hockney, rauchend
Kindheit 2
Ulrich Wildgruber, ewige Bühne
Ulrich Wildgruber und Angela Winkler
Ulrich Wildgruber und O.E.Hasse
Wildgruber 4
Martina Gedeck 5
Drei, einer gewinnt immer
Ulrich Wildgruber 2
Wildgruber 5
Wildgruber 3
Martina Gedeck 4
Martina Gedeck 3
Wildgruber 2
Martina Gedeck 2
Martina Gedeck
Martina Gedeck und Robert De Niro
Ulrich Wildgruber
Ulrich Wildgruber
David Hockney, geheimes Wissen
Francis Bacon and William S. Burroughs city nature 2
Petra und Max
David Hockney
David Hockney
Francis Bacon besucht unerwartet die Wiesenstraße
Johnny’s in the basement
Mixing up the medicine
I’m on the pavement
Thinking about the government
The man in the trench coat
Badge out, laid off
Says he’s got a bad cough
Wants to get it paid off
Look out kid
It’s somethin‘ you did
God knows when
But you’re doin‘ it again
You better duck down the alley way
Lookin‘ for a new friend
The man in the coon-skin cap
In the big pen
Wants eleven dollar bills
You only got ten
Maggie comes fleet foot
Face full of black soot
Talkin‘ that the heat put
Plants in the bed but
The phone’s tapped anyway
Maggie says that many say
They must bust in early May
Orders from the D. A.
Look out kid
Don’t matter what you did
Walk on your tip toes
Don’t try „No Doz“
Better stay away from those
That carry around a fire hose
Keep a clean nose
Watch the plain clothes
You don’t need a weather man
To know which way the wind blows
Get sick, get well
Hang around a ink well
Ring bell, hard to tell
If anything is goin‘ to sell
Try hard, get barred
Get back, write braille
Get jailed, jump bail
Join the army, if you fail
Look out kid
You’re gonna get hit
But users, cheaters
Six-time users
Hang around the theaters
Girl by the whirlpool
Lookin‘ for a new fool
Don’t follow leaders
Watch the parkin‘ meters
Ah get born, keep warm
Short pants, romance, learn to dance
Get dressed, get blessed
Try to be a success
Please her, please him, buy gifts
Don’t steal, don’t lift
Twenty years of schoolin‘
And they put you on the day shift
Look out kid
They keep it all hid
Better jump down a manhole
Light yourself a candle
Don’t wear sandals
Try to avoid the scandals
Don’t wanna be a bum
You better chew gum
The pump don’t work
‚Cause the vandals took the handles
Bob Dylan
Paula Modersohn-Becker und Clara Westhoff im elenden Worpswede Freundschaft vertiefend
Bildsprung, Atelier Gustave Courbet
Bildsprung Signatur
Bildsprung, das Rheinland ist frei!
Das fünfzehnjährige Selbst lächelt mich als Tod an
Vera Brühne
Landschaft neapel gelb dunkel
Rainer Langhans
Gibson
Marilyn Monroe- the fool on the hill
Ein milder Abend mit Renoir
Picasso erscheint in meinem Fenster
Polizei allgemein
Picasso maigrün dunkel und mit Angst
Selbst, kopflos am Rhein
Marilyn Monroe
Ein freundlicher Sonntag mit Renoir
It’s Alright, Ma (I’m Only Bleeding)
Darkness at the break of noon
Shadows even the silver spoon
The handmade blade, the child’s balloon
Eclipses both the sun and moon
To understand you know too soon
There is no sense in trying.
Pointed threats, they bluff with scorn
Suicide remarks are torn
From the fool’s gold mouthpiece
The hollow horn plays wasted words
Proves to warn
That he not busy being born
Is busy dying.
Temptation’s page flies out the door
You follow, find yourself at war
Watch waterfalls of pity roar
You feel to moan but unlike before
You discover
That you’d just be
One more person crying.
So don’t fear if you hear
A foreign sound to your ear
It’s alright, Ma, I’m only sighing.
As some warn victory, some downfall
Private reasons great or small
Can be seen in the eyes of those that call
To make all that should be killed to crawl
While others say don’t hate nothing at all
Except hatred.
Disillusioned words like bullets bark
As human gods aim for their mark
Made everything from toy guns that spark
To flesh-colored Christs that glow in the dark
It’s easy to see without looking too far
That not much
Is really sacred.
While preachers preach of evil fates
Teachers teach that knowledge waits
Can lead to hundred-dollar plates
Goodness hides behind its gates
But even the president of the United States
Sometimes must have
To stand naked.
An‘ though the rules of the road have been lodged
It’s only people’s games that you got to dodge
And it’s alright, Ma, I can make it.
Advertising signs that con you
Into thinking you’re the one
That can do what’s never been done
That can win what’s never been won
Meantime life outside goes on
All around you.
You lose yourself, you reappear
You suddenly find you got nothing to fear
Alone you stand with nobody near
When a trembling distant voice, unclear
Startles your sleeping ears to hear
That somebody thinks
They really found you.
A question in your nerves is lit
Yet you know there is no answer fit to satisfy
Insure you not to quit
To keep it in your mind and not fergit
That it is not he or she or them or it
That you belong to.
Although the masters make the rules
For the wise men and the fools
I got nothing, Ma, to live up to.
For them that must obey authority
That they do not respect in any degree
Who despise their jobs, their destinies
Speak jealously of them that are free
Cultivate their flowers to be
Nothing more than something
They invest in.
While some on principles baptized
To strict party platform ties
Social clubs in drag disguise
Outsiders they can freely criticize
Tell nothing except who to idolize
And then say God bless him.
While one who sings with his tongue on fire
Gargles in the rat race choir
Bent out of shape from society’s pliers
Cares not to come up any higher
But rather get you down in the hole
That he’s in.
But I mean no harm nor put fault
On anyone that lives in a vault
But it’s alright, Ma, if I can’t please him.
Old lady judges watch people in pairs
Limited in sex, they dare
To push fake morals, insult and stare
While money doesn’t talk, it swears
Obscenity, who really cares
Propaganda, all is phony.
While them that defend what they cannot see
With a killer’s pride, security
It blows the minds most bitterly
For them that think death’s honesty
Won’t fall upon them naturally
Life sometimes
Must get lonely.
My eyes collide head-on with stuffed graveyards
False gods, I scuff
At pettiness which plays so rough
Walk upside-down inside handcuffs
Kick my legs to crash it off
Say okay, I have had enough
What else can you show me?
And if my thought-dreams could be seen
They’d probably put my head in a guillotine
But it’s alright, Ma, it’s life, and life only.
Bob Dylan
1915 It’s Alright, Ma (I’m Only Bleeding)
Goya fegt durch unser Atelier
It’s Alright, Ma (I’m Only Bleeding) 2
1943
1920
Unbemerkte Engel
Kleine Freiheit
Zwei Männer im Atelier
Video: Ioana Luca, Detlev Foth und Almo Fetahovic
Düsseldorf
2009
Mutter
Video:
Almo Fetahovic und Detlev Foth
Musik: Detlev Foth
Stories From Atelier 72 