Arbeiten

We are asked to go into the large Turbinensaal. We the public are gathered on the stage side of the hall. We are part of something. We hear the rhythmic sounds of machines in action. Working. I guess an assembly line of a factory, some sort of industrial process. Awoman with a microphone on her head walks slowly among the crowd and starts to explain to us (in dialect) a system that she is involved with. She makes deliberate contact with individuals, including me. She stares as she talks, almost in trance. Her words come out automatic, there is almost no feeling in her. She talks about "Plasma" and the many intricate steps in the use, creation of this material. Though the tone and gestures seem soft and in control she still comes across machine like, distant. Does she like her job? If she doesn't she tries her best not to show it. Very professional -one thinks.

The disturbing side is we are not so interested in the details of her work. "arbeiten" is important. H's part of our existential reallty. After a whHe I feel part of a touring group forced to hear a guide telling us of her complex but unintelligible work. Its all boring technospeak but somebody has to do it...

Carlos Varela