The Academy sends four students to enjoy a two-month residency at the Leipzig International Art Programme in the historic Spinnerei in Leipzig. Holly Ann Sailors, Aleah Chapin, Nicolas Holiber and Alexander Barton blog with us while they’re on residency in Germany.
By Nicolas Holiber (MFA 2012)
Haben Sie Schweinefüße?
“Do you have pigs feet?†was the first complete German sentence I learned while arriving in Leipzig. A little odd I admit, this question was essential in getting my studio practice up and running again after a two-week hiatus since the end of school. Slow to adjust to my new surroundings, the first few days here at the Spinneri were spent gathering art materials, muttering broken-German descriptions of much needed supplies, sprechen sie englisch?, and overcoming jet lag. I quickly realized something about Leipzig; it is nothing like New York City. Here the pace of life is slower, people are very polite and mostly everything besides a few pubs closes around 9pm. So while I lamented over the convenience of New York (I should really say the spoils of NY), I took refuge in the thought that soon enough I would have a couple of fresh ham hocks to make everything better.
Haben Sie Schweinefüße?
Entering my first German butcher shop, or
Fleischerei as they are called, was everything I imagined it to be. Cured sausages hanging from the ceiling; enough wieners and wursts to make you dizzy, salamis, pâtés, head cheeses, cold cuts behind the glass, bacon, ground beef, things I had never even seen before! But wait… I looked around in a panic, where were the trotters?! Wasn’t this supposed to be the land of meat? I thought I’d be swimming in pig the moment I stepped inside. “Haben Sie Schweinefüße?†The kind woman behind the counter looked at me with an unassuming stare, “Nein.†Confused, I stepped outside, got back on my bike and went searching for another Fleischerei. I walked into the second store ignoring all of the alizarin eye candy hanging from the walls and went straight to the glass. Pork chop, pork shoulder, pork belly… no hoofs in sight. I asked in vain, Haben Sie Schweinefüße? And again I was denied. I left that place in a daze, wandering on my bicycle in an ungulate-deprived stupor, all hope nearly lost.
Haben Sie Schweinefüße?
I saw the third shop from across the street, a quiet corner store establishment with the specials written in chalk by the door. I decided to make this my final attempt and sauntered inside. The store was empty, I heard someone shuffling about in the back and before I could realize what I was looking at my hands were all over the glass, practically on my knees in euphoric relief. I had finally found what I was looking for, in a butcher shop not 10 minutes from my studio: access to all the hog feet I could ever want. Then I heard a voice, “Kann ich Ihnen helfen?†I smiled, “Haben Sie Schweinefüße?â€
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| the Love of my life.. |
