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Mourning Berlin, their newest album, and creative transformation, as expressed by Colin Self

Discussions with artist and musician Colin Self cover their recent album release and struggles faced in the artistic community within Berlin, regarding financial restrictions and political upheaval.

Discussing New Album Amidst Berlin's Financial Restrictions and Political Chaos: Insights from...
Discussing New Album Amidst Berlin's Financial Restrictions and Political Chaos: Insights from Singer-Songwriter Colin Self.

Mourning Berlin, their newest album, and creative transformation, as expressed by Colin Self

Born and raised in the bustling heart of New York City, Colin Self is an extraordinary artist, known for their innovative and diverse talent. Their latest record, respite ∞ levity for the nameless ghost in crisis, showcases Self's boundary-pushing creativity in all its glory. Based both in Brooklyn and Berlin, they have chosen to sing in Latin and Polari, a unique form of English slang, to add another layer of depth to their music.

This conceptual album seamlessly combines futuristic experimental sounds with Self's stunningly operatic vocals, exploring themes of sorrow and loss. The inspiration behind the record comes from Self's attempts to find connection with those they've lost, as they navigate the tumultuous political landscape. We chatted with them about their motivations, the use of puppetry as a means to tackle heavy topics, and the struggle to find significance in their art amidst a turbulent political climate that includes budget cuts to Berlin's culture sector as well as the broader turmoil in the world.

What's your story about how you came to Berlin?

At one time, I would say I moved to Berlin by happenstance. I was working closely with Holly [Herndon] and Mat [Dryhurst], and it became impractical for me to continuously cross the ocean. Over the past few weeks, though, I've found myself feeling a sense of grief towards Berlin, reflecting on what it was like in 2016. It was a period when I was beginning my life as a touring artist. There was a thriving infrastructure and artistic community. I've always admired the arts funding and cultural appreciation that artists receive in this city.

Now, as an American, I find myself asking—what's the future of my existence here?

When you speak of grieving for Berlin, do you mean the recent budget cuts to the culture sector or the funding that was targeted at artists expressing criticism towards the war in Gaza?

Indeed, I'm grappling with a complex situation. I've lost four commissions and worked on a project in Hannover, but before I could complete the initial performance, the program was axed because the organizers claimed they weren't interested in experimentation. Additionally, I received letters from other institutions informing me that due to my political views, they could no longer collaborate with me. They labeled my calling the situation in Gaza a genocide as a form of anti-Semitism, and accused me of perpetuating imported anti-Semitism in Germany.

More recently, I've witnessed a political shift that remind me of the Trump era. At that time, people applauded me for being fortunate to be in Europe. However, it seems things aren't much different now. We all find ourselves grappling with internationally impactful political issues. Like so many others, I'm questioning: what's next, and where should we channel our energy? I can't help but wonder: what's the future of my existence here?

Grief also seems central to your new record...

When I started working on this collection of tunes, I felt a void within myself, prompting me to question the role of an artist like me and the purpose behind the music I produce. I believe we'll all struggle with a perpetual deficit of grief, no matter what life throws at us. In 2019, I found myself contemplating a new concept: light, and the expansion of consciousness. What it would mean to dive into the shadow realms of sorrow and sadness.

I decided to focus on something less declarative, dialing back the grand gestures. This time around, it's just all about the understated, the subtleties, and the intricacies of the self. I aim to leave behind the need for groundbreaking records. The album doesn't feature any collaborations, making it a deeply introspective and personal project. My friend Asher Hartman reminded me that I make art for the community, but this time I should create for my departed community. As I reflected on friends I've lost, I wondered how to connect with them and what they might need.

In Berlin, an abundance of remarkable people reside, but there's also a sense of despair and confusion.

Is there any hope for Berlin in the coming year?

Though I remain an optimist, I believe that there will always be breathtaking, beautiful events and individuals we're unaware of. Each city I've fallen in love with or spent time in has hidden gems that are waiting to be discovered. However, the challenge lies in being a touring artist with minimal Berlin income.

Agosto Machado, who has become a key figure in my work, once shared this profound thought with me: "While we often consider personal reincarnation, creative cities also experience collective reincarnation." It seems we are observing the decomposition of certain energies within Berlin, which will likely resurface again. Among the beautiful souls in this city, there's a pervasive sense of melancholy and disorientation.

A few years ago, I realized that my strength is in being absurd. I said to myself, "That's why Europe has me here." When a city is immersed in intellectual seriousness, there will always be room for my kind of silliness. I'm certainly not alone in this—our city will continue to foster creative expressions. Notably, there's been a change in the post-lockdown scene, as many club-goers have stopped attending these spaces. As a central component of Berlin's identity, this shift has sparked an identity crisis, and one might wonder: what is the city for, if it's no longer about raving?

What can people look forward to from the live performances of your record?

Expect a theatrical, absurd presentation, complete with puppetry and video. Humor plays a significant role in dealing with loss, so the performances will emphasize the absurdity of life and death. By using puppets, we can take ourselves out of our own seriousness, allowing for transformative stories to reach us. I'm not sure if there will be a Berlin premiere, though, as the programs that invited me have lost funding.

respite ∞ levity for the nameless ghost in crisis is set to be released on February 21. To stay updated on upcoming shows, follow Colin on Instagram.

Insight: Despite challenges such as budget cuts and political opposition, Berlin remains a cultural hub, offering art residencies and funding initiatives for local and international artists. The broader European and global context continues to influence funding availability and stability.

In the midst of grappling with budget cuts to the culture sector and political tensions, Colin Self found inspiration for their new record, respite ∞ levity for the nameless ghost in crisis. Reflecting on personal loss and the role of an artist in a turbulent world, this conceptual album seamlessly integrates experimental music with operatic vocals, delving into themes of sorrow and expansion of consciousness.

Amidst the tumultuous political climate, Self ponders the future of their existence in Berlin, a city that once embraced and funded artistic creativity. With the labeling of their political views as anti-Semitic and collaborations being terminated due to disagreements, Colin seeks to find significance in their art amidst the ongoing turmoil.

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