graffiti archéologie; barbouillage sur les murs / Chansons Française
Shipping Industry / Bratislava Medical Building Intervention / SAS survival guide / Small Talk Small Interventions /
BIENVENUE!/
WELCOME!
Music: Maxwell Farrington
  |
| ICI C'EST MON BUREAU |
 |
| MON BUREAU AUSSI MAIS UN AUTRE ANGLE |
FULLVIDS from Jedaburg on Vimeo.
CONTACT:
Le Bureau de Liam Jedaburg Witter:
(+33) 0786410944
liamrobertwitter@gmail.com
58 rue Jean de Bernardy 13001 Marseille
On fait des balades
 |
| The Family Tree (20 seconds walk from my apartment) The dad in this image is one of the many portrayals of 'LEAM' an 'illusive super hero of the marseille night. |
 |
| Qui sont-ils? |
LikeCan from Jedaburg on Vimeo.
i like to play from Jedaburg on Vimeo.
>>>iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii<<<
HENRI SALVADOR - MALADIE D'AMOUR
Maladie d'amour, maladie de la jeunesse
Si tu n'aimes que moi
Reste tout près de moi, oh
Maladie d'amour, maladie de la jeunesse
Si tu n'aimes que moi
Reste tout près de moi
Quand l'amour est petit, c'est joli si joli
Mais il devient fort, méfiez-vous mes amis
Caché sous le feuillage,
C'est comme un serpent gris
Oh Oh,
N'allez pas quand il dort
Surtout le réveiller
N'allez pas car il mord
Si vous le réveillez
Quand l'amour est petit, c'est joli si joli
Mais quand il devient fort,
C'est plus beau que la vie
J'irai sous le feuillage,
Chercher le serpent gris
Oh Oh
Car l'amour c'est la mort
Mais c'est aussi la vie
Car l'amour c'est la mort
Et c'est le paradis
Le Petit bal perdu (Le P'tit bal perdu)
C'était tout juste après la guerre,
Dans un petit bal qu'avait souffert.
Sur une piste de misère,
Y'en avait deux, à découvert.
Parmi les gravats ils dansaient
Dans ce petit bal qui s'appelait...
Qui s'appelait...
qui s'appelait...
qui s'appelait...
(Refrain)
Non je ne me souviens plus
du nom du bal perdu.
Ce dont je me souviens
ce sont ces amoureux
Qui ne regardaient rien autour d'eux.
Y'avait tant d'insouciance
Dans leurs gestes émus,
Alors quelle importance
Le nom du bal perdu ?
Non je ne me souviens plus
du nom du bal perdu.
Ce dont je me souviens
c'est qu'ils étaient heureux
Les yeux au fond des yeux.
Et c'était bien...
Et c'était bien...
Ils buvaient dans le même verre,
Toujours sans se quitter des yeux.
Ils faisaient la même prière,
D'être toujours, toujours heureux.
Parmi les gravats ils souriaient
Dans ce petit bal qui s'appelait...
Qui s'appelait...
qui s'appelait...
qui s'appelait...
(au Refrain)
Et puis quand l'accordéoniste
S'est arrêté, ils sont partis.
Le soir tombait dessus la piste,
Sur les gravats et sur ma vie.
Il était redevenu tout triste
Ce petit bal qui s'appelait,
Qui s'appelait...
qui s'appelait...
qui s'appelait...
Non je ne me souviens plus
du nom du bal perdu.
Ce dont je me souviens
ce sont ces amoureux
Qui ne regardaient rien autour d'eux.
Y'avait tant de lumière,
Avec eux dans la rue,
Alors la belle affaire
Le nom du bal perdu.
Non je ne me souviens plus
du nom du bal perdu.
Ce dont je me souviens
c'est qu'on était heureux
Les yeux au fond des yeux.
Et c'était bien...
Et c'était bien.
The Lost Little Ball
It was just after the war,
In a ballroom that had suffered
On a floor in ruins,
There were these two, so exposed.
They danced among the rubble
In this little ball, what was its name…
What was its name…
What was its name…
What was its name…
(Refrain)
No, I don’t recall
The name of this lost ball
What I remember
Are these two lovers
With eyes for no one but each other.
There was such insouciance
In their moving gestures,
So what does it matter
The name of the lost ball?
No, I don’t recall
The name of this lost ball.
What I remember
Is that they were happy
Lost in each other’s eyes
As it should be…
As it should be…
They drank from the same glass
Never turning away their gaze
They both made the same wish
To be happy, forever after
They smiled among the rubble
In this little ball, what was its name…
What was its name…
What was its name…
What was its name…
(Refrain)
Then when the accordionist
Stopped playing, they left
Evening fell over the dance floor,
Over the rubble and over my life.
A melancholy site, it became
This little ball, what was its name,
What was its name…
What was its name…
What was its name…
No, I don’t recall
The name of this lost ball.
What I remember
Are these two lovers
With eyes for no one but each other.
There was so much light,
With them in the street,
So what does it matter,
The name of the lost ball.
No, I don’t recall
The name of this lost ball.
What I remember
Is that they were happy
Lost in each other’s eyes
As it should be…
As it should be
Lugou Bridge from Jedaburg on Vimeo.
Newbridge Sound from Jedaburg on Vimeo.
Sledge fin from Jedaburg on Vimeo.
DIAGRAMS
Here is an example of an action that is planned for a specific space. I created a few different interventions to be carried out in an Abandoned Medical building. These came from exploring the building, observing the local wildlife, which consisted mainy of looters ripping wires from the walls, as well as a team of builders performing the renovation and a trapped bird. I tried to re-imagine uses for this building with actions that responded to the space. These included walking around the tunnels with fire torches, floating candles in a flooded basement, Chinese lanterns up an empty lift shaft and tea drinking on a flat roof.
I presented these drawings as a storyboard for a film, with the knowledge that the planned actions would be transformed when human intervention was accounted for. However I wanted to imagine the ideal scenario for presenting my interactions with the building.
I gave a small group of people a copy of this before entering the building, and for them it became a souvenir of how the experience may have gone in a different reality.
This is a different type of diagram exploring how it is that we create memories by chopping experience into distinctly separate chunks. It is again from the imagined perspective of a camera filming the time lapsed movements made by one person. The drawing was taken from personal experience, although this is irrelevant to a person witnessing it because I consider it as a diagram that is demonstrating the possibility for action and can be seen by the user to have interchangeable components.
This is a different type of diagram exploring how it is that we create memories by chopping experience into distinctly separate chunks. It is again from the imagined perspective of a camera filming the time lapsed movements made by one person. The drawing was taken from personal experience, although this is irrelevant to a person witnessing it because I consider it as a diagram that is demonstrating the possibility for action and can be seen by the user to have interchangeable components.
TOOLS
 |
Tachi-sto-sco-pic - A device that displays (usually by projecting) an image for a specific amount of time;
Historically used to help WWII fighter pilots identify aircraft silhouettes to identify friends and foes.
|
Not a spanner, but a Map inside a film cannister!
 |
| Tom Tom Skip Diving |
Simple idea of a board game with reference to key places and people from a specific place. Much like the idea for mapping this interevntion 'And your bird can sing.'
