I love these high-gloss, hardcover portraits of American Universities, preferably from the 80s, with high color saturation. Breathtaking treasures are offered within their pages; the manifold sports activities... Pre-game stretching, post-game/pre-shower sweaty locker room gatherings to commiserate or rejoice. Holding hands, where are my socks? Or sunbathing in the sports arena. Full display. Fit, straight, bodies - the fundament of a healthy nation. Most likely he doesn’t know how hot he is, lying on a park bench and playing a wooden flute. Or, he sits on top of a stone wall leading to the cafeteria (faded modernism) in shorts, barefoot, completely absorbed by the book he is reading. Am I moved because of his hairy legs or because he is so concentrated? Does he fit in here or anywhere? Does he even care? I also get a kick out of illustrated manuals for fitness group workouts off all kinds (“The Ultimate Spa Body”), self-help guides (“The Backyard Lumberjack”) or public transportations systems. An Italian book on the Milano subway published in 1982 is an all time favorite; 70’s architecture, subway color codes, handrails! Guys hanging out, Castello Sforzesco, the Pirelli highrise… Books on “Nature” (“America’s Outdoor Wonders”, “Baxandall’s World Guide to Nude Beaches + Recreation”) are generally attractive, particularly when they address the myriad wacky ways in which people spend time and money under open skies. Besides, anything that is too obviously interesting doesn’t really work. It has to be almost normal, not too sensational. Cut-out photos go in a box where they can rest until I feel more interested in them, which can sometimes take years. Working on a collage is not a quick thing for me and generally it does not work out right away.
-T.E.
Catalogue published on the occasion of the exhibition Thomas Eggerer. Selected Collages 2002 to 2022 that took place at 15 Orient from September 7 to October 15, 2022. The catalogue includes a text by David Joseli.
