2023 ︎ An Apple, A Singing Mouth and The Train Tracks ︎
Objects ︎300 Pieces of Baked Bread
︎Diameter 8 to 9 cm︎
Wheat Dough, Bread Dough, Grain Pastry Dough
sprinkled with Poppy Seeds, Sesame Seeds, Sprinkled Seeds and Rye Flour︎Former Concentration Camp Gusen III, Lungitz, Upper Austria (AT)
An Apple, A Singing Mouth and The Train Tracks
Objects, 2023
300 Pieces of Baked Bread
Diameter 8 to 9 cm
Former Concentration Camp Gusen III, Lugitz, Upper Austria (AT)
Wheat Dough, Bread Dough, Grain Pastry Dough sprinkled with Poppy Seeds, Sesame Seeds, Sprinkled Seeds and Rye Flour
Made by the Apprentice Bakers of BS Linz 10 - Food and Green Professions
AN APPLE
In the fall of 1943, a ten-year-old named Leo Reichl remembers seeing inmates of the Gusen III Concentration Camp being beaten for every little thing. One day while herding his family’s cows, he drops a handful of apples into a sewer pipe. When he walks away, the prisoners take them out but are quickly caught by the attending Kapo and yelled at to give them back. Later in life, he learns that he wasn’t the onlyone hiding supplies.
A SINGING MOUTH
Two years before construction starts on the Lungitz Bakery and Concentration Camp, prisoners walk 6 km from Gusen I to work in the brick factory of Lungitz. While passing through the village, they’re forced to sing happy songs to make a good impression on the inhabitants.
THE TRAIN TRACKS
In 2018, a layer of ash and bone fragments are discovered during renovations of the Lungitz train tracks. Suspicious that these are victims of the Nazis, archeological experts at the University of Vienna are called upon and confirm that they are human remains from the 1930s and 1940s. The 70 cubic meters of ash are then moved to a plot next to the Gusen III Memorial and buried there.
For the Festival der Regionen 2023, 300 pieces of bread were baked by the apprentice bakers of BS Linz 10 - Food and Green Professions and their instructor Johann Burian.
Johanna Tinzl gave them away at the Lungitz train station.
In the fall of 1943, a ten-year-old named Leo Reichl remembers seeing inmates of the Gusen III Concentration Camp being beaten for every little thing. One day while herding his family’s cows, he drops a handful of apples into a sewer pipe. When he walks away, the prisoners take them out but are quickly caught by the attending Kapo and yelled at to give them back. Later in life, he learns that he wasn’t the onlyone hiding supplies.
A SINGING MOUTH
Two years before construction starts on the Lungitz Bakery and Concentration Camp, prisoners walk 6 km from Gusen I to work in the brick factory of Lungitz. While passing through the village, they’re forced to sing happy songs to make a good impression on the inhabitants.
THE TRAIN TRACKS
In 2018, a layer of ash and bone fragments are discovered during renovations of the Lungitz train tracks. Suspicious that these are victims of the Nazis, archeological experts at the University of Vienna are called upon and confirm that they are human remains from the 1930s and 1940s. The 70 cubic meters of ash are then moved to a plot next to the Gusen III Memorial and buried there.
For the Festival der Regionen 2023, 300 pieces of bread were baked by the apprentice bakers of BS Linz 10 - Food and Green Professions and their instructor Johann Burian.
Johanna Tinzl gave them away at the Lungitz train station.
This project was shown as part of GIVEAWAYS/HIDEAWAYS, developed by Antoine Turillon and Seth Weiner for Festival der Regionen 2023:
“On November 29th 2022 we got a message with a large batch of images from the Lungitz train station. Most looked like you’d expect, empty spaces filled with traces of the past here and there. In one image though, there were about twenty to thirty bags pushed into the corner of a small room. The message mentioned how these bags were filled with leftovers from excavations under the train tracks – during renovations back in 2018, a layer of ash was dug up, and everyone was afraid it was from the neighboring concentration camps.
Using the train station in Lungitz as a central point, we started the project by looking for a clear gesture: An image or frame that would open up questions about how violence and trauma are both hidden and given away in the immediate setting of the Lungitz Bahnhof / Gusen III Concentration Camp. We asked if we could silence the building by covering all of the windows except for a single view to where the camp had been. We also asked a group of artists to join us in making objects and experiences to give away and local experts on the Holocaust to hold tours, to collectively explore how multiple directions of time and identity can come into contact with residents and travelers.
It’s strange to work on a project like this for a festival meant to celebrate the region. Throughout the process, we’ve been having a lot of conversations about memory being something that’s active. How it has to be continually worked at and renewed. How it needs to be given away over and over again to remain visible. How it can be non-competitive. We’ve been talking about the role of contemporary art, different forms of grieving, mourning, and joy. The sadness of humor and the commodification of remembrance.
As the past catches up to the present, the trains arrive and leave more or less on schedule every day. The Lungitz station’s been empty for a while now while it waits to be torn down. One of the last remaining architectural witnesses flattened into a park and ride. As artists, we’re aware of the impossibility of finding an adequate shape or form to express the magnitude of loss that happened here. We nevertheless feel the need to try.”
“On November 29th 2022 we got a message with a large batch of images from the Lungitz train station. Most looked like you’d expect, empty spaces filled with traces of the past here and there. In one image though, there were about twenty to thirty bags pushed into the corner of a small room. The message mentioned how these bags were filled with leftovers from excavations under the train tracks – during renovations back in 2018, a layer of ash was dug up, and everyone was afraid it was from the neighboring concentration camps.
Using the train station in Lungitz as a central point, we started the project by looking for a clear gesture: An image or frame that would open up questions about how violence and trauma are both hidden and given away in the immediate setting of the Lungitz Bahnhof / Gusen III Concentration Camp. We asked if we could silence the building by covering all of the windows except for a single view to where the camp had been. We also asked a group of artists to join us in making objects and experiences to give away and local experts on the Holocaust to hold tours, to collectively explore how multiple directions of time and identity can come into contact with residents and travelers.
It’s strange to work on a project like this for a festival meant to celebrate the region. Throughout the process, we’ve been having a lot of conversations about memory being something that’s active. How it has to be continually worked at and renewed. How it needs to be given away over and over again to remain visible. How it can be non-competitive. We’ve been talking about the role of contemporary art, different forms of grieving, mourning, and joy. The sadness of humor and the commodification of remembrance.
As the past catches up to the present, the trains arrive and leave more or less on schedule every day. The Lungitz station’s been empty for a while now while it waits to be torn down. One of the last remaining architectural witnesses flattened into a park and ride. As artists, we’re aware of the impossibility of finding an adequate shape or form to express the magnitude of loss that happened here. We nevertheless feel the need to try.”
Indexphoto + photos 2, 4, 5, 6: © Flora Fellner
Photo 1: © eSeL