Glücksfall at The Tail / Brussels

 Glücksfall / Elif Saydam & Leonie Nagel

19 July - 26 August 2020


THE TAIL

Avenue Jacques Sermon 38

1090, Bruxelles

































1. Picture two levels far away from each other. One is high above, the other is far below. Taking the stairs is one possible way of moving from one level to the other. Which step do you take first? It seems to be something like the number -10, which is not too bad. It has been raining and the stairs are mossy and incredibly slippery. Could there be a way to skip a few steps, or is there an alternate path?

Second try: turn the image clockwise. Suddenly you can easily go from right to left or the other way around. The stairs come out of the wall and lead back there too. There is a platform in the middle, a more left or more right peace of wall, the self-set goal.

2. The year is 1927. Gluck has an exhibition opening; the nerves make her drink, the drinks make her drunk. She goes home, bathes in confusion, picks her teeth and goes to bed alone. The next morning, Gluck wakes up and – with an element of surprise but lacking drama – is physiologically changed. Gluck examines Gluck in the mirror, feeling nothing but a fresh taste of a new comfort and the buzz of a hangover in Gluck’s teeth. Gluck decides then on, personal pronouns and fashion accessories are thereby useless. Gluck slides down to the floor in relief. Gluck needn’t worry ‘bout much; Gluck is independently wealthy, the world will abide.

3. Ask the oracle of Delphi: is it hard work, is it luck or is it destiny?


4. Upon arrival, some people immediately remove their shoes. Others like to keep them on. 

5. The most difficult part of a home to sweep is the staircase.
The staircase is the most difficult part of a home to sweep.
Sweeping the staircase of a home is the most difficult part.

6. L and E work the midnight shift, uncrating enormous tacky jewelry for the sculpture garden of
a grand provincial “museum” in a decrepit no-name town, formerly an empire of coal mines. They joke around about being “saved” while avoiding the aggressive museum director. All night, up and down, they climb wacky staircases scattered throughout the postmodern architecture like a hid- den joke on the workers that use them, who are trying to get from A to B to Feierabend. Forgetting a box of screws on another level quickly becomes painful. L and E learn to enjoy “wasting time”
climbing all of the stairs. Eventually, the clock strikes twelve; L puts on L’s street clothes, pump- kin tones from head to toe. E can’t find E’s other shoe. In solidarity they decide to walk down the street barefoot together