Last Saturday we started with coffee al fresco, I also bumped into Zapata in the cafe.
Then a walk in town, where, among other things, I saw this:
Now, Dæmion was organising an architectural biennale on that very day. Part of it is was the make-believe founding of an urban museum of modern art using (or rather reclaiming) an existing block of flats; there were even leaflets distributed with all the relevant information.
We gathered outside the block, we ceremoniously set the mock-founding stone of the new museum in the pavement and then these guys showed up:
They played some all-time favourite (urgh) military marches:
Some of them looked exceptionally young. This is because this was the genuine article: the Principality’s National Guard Marching Band, where all male citizens of the principality have to serve, provided they are the right ethnicity and religion, from age 18 and for the following 26 horny months of their lives.
There are five armies stationed in the Outpost, but only one National Guard of the Principality. And their Marching Band was playing at the inauguration of a museum that will only ever exist as an exercise in fancy, as a mental experiment. How truly fitting!
“How on earth did you book them?”
“I made a phonecall. They do this for free if there is no other engagement. I told them they would play for the opening of a new museum. They asked me what to play and I told them to play the usual marches.”, said Dæmion.
“Wow.”, I said.
Then the band left:
In the meantime some of the block residents were alerted to our presence and were asking when the museum will open, which floors it will be occupying, whether there are any plans to evict them from their homes and offices. One of them, an architect, spontaneously invited us to his flat, which was carefully renovated so that all the original elements — including floors, cupboards, various fittings and so on — remain intact. He had a collection of plates:
So that his two Siamese cats do not freak out (they eventually did), we were invited to visit his 7th floor flat in groups of five. The rest had to wait outside:
On my way home I had to stop for a wedding procession to pass by. They looked like immigrants from the Caucasus and the bride distinctly pissed off.