Maren Kames: Half Dove Half Peacock (Maren Kames)

You find Sunday on Sunday morning at seven thirty with the great crested grebes on the
beach staring vacantly at the streaks the lifeguard is boozing standing blindly
knee-deep in the sewer swallowing water from the edges punching limply at the
planks lying there like pledged property – stranded on your half-deaf skin
landed in the half-raw light here
nailed rendered dirty
frittered away in dew and
half dove half peacock
bear up like this
always

With "Halb Taube Halb Pfau" (Half Dove Half Peacock), writer Maren Kames has written a book that consciously refuses to decide what it wants to be. It's a volume of poetry. It's a story. It’s also a radio play. It’s an exhibit. It’s a collection of digital codes. Sometimes, it schlepps itself into the white cube.
What is it about? The landscape is snowy and imponderable, yet the character should take measurements in this “escalating whiteness”. Memories from childhood, geological observations and claims and descriptions of an intimate relationship permeate, motifs, scenes and sentences are repeated, vary and are brought into new constellations.
The author opens her shiny silver book for the Performing Arts Festival and enchants with sound textures, her own voice and the voices of others.