At Least You are Funny, said Helen Karlsson

while dining on the Theathre

In fact I have been impersonating a rather sloppy middle aged man at the Friction II Festival, namely myself. Whenever I dealt with a female artist I was acting as a jerk. Either I completely misunderstood their work, as was the case with Anna Berndtson, or disliked it, as in the case of Malin Anrell. And during three performances, all of them performed by women I fell asleep, or was barely keeping awake. It was my duty to attend every act, so I may have an excuse for getting worn out and tired. But still, it was like an act of gender determined discrimination when I failed keeping awake while attending works presented by women. It is a symbolic coincidence, as I have spent a lot of time dwelling on the hardships of women who have taken the fight to find expressions for female experiences in literature and art. And still I find myself a fat old arse, when I am confronted with gender politics in contemporary art. Attitudes are seated beyond reflection and consciousness. Some would say in collective opinions rather than in the individual, and I here find my self an automaton delivering old fashioned, and even obsolete, reactions from my guts.

To find a way of admitting these flaws is by no means easy. Even to address the problem with the artists might be taken as an insult, but once I felt the urge to do so. At the dinner table, then, I confessed, and excused, and dodged the best I could. To my great relief it all ended in laughter. It was at that moment the coordinator of the Festival, Helen Karlsson, who had all reasons to worry about my capacity as a critic and philosopher, let out the comment:

- At least, you are funny!