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NOW - What Markus Zohner is up to

Now

Now

Update: 26 November 2024, 15:32

In Lugano. Even though we pretend otherwise, the new year has already grown old and continues to lean further over the cliff, from which it will plunge with a brief clamour in just a few weeks.

Some ten days ago, on Friday evening, 15th November 2024, our friend, the actor, director, painter, and sculptor Alessandro Marchetti, passed away. His death leaves behind a terrible void. Not only has a great person, a man of the theatre, an artist, and a friend departed, but it feels as if he had taken an entire world with him. In my obituary, I tell his story and the story we shared.

Also through this grief, I’ve come to realize the high level of whining that flowed through my keyboard in my last snapshot from early November, and I’ve sworn not to waste another word on weather-related sensitivities unless the apocalypse actually arrives. These days, I’ve spoken with friends in true darkness: in England and Finland, and I realize that I have not the slightest reason to complain about the dark days, the cold, or the November weather here.

Today, Yves Klein painted the sky above the mountains. From the summit of Monte Brè1, the gaze wanders westward across the city with the Monte Rosa2 massif and the Dufourspitze in the background, before gliding south westward over descending mountains deep into the Piedmont plains. In winter, the air here is far less hazy than in summer, when evening thunderstorms pour down from water masses that pile up above the mountains during the day. In wintertime, the view seems to constantly extend itself like that telescopic pointer with which little Mr. Hähnlein pointed at d = R * arccos(sin(φ1) * sin(φ2) + cos(φ1) * cos(φ2) * cos(λ2 – λ1))3 at the top of the chalkboard.

The knowledge that, if one could maximize the power of the eye here on Monte Brè’s summit, at the end of the line of sight Sanremo and Monaco, Nice, Antibes, then Cannes, Saint-Tropez, and a touch further west, Marseille are lounging by the Mediterranean, and that, if the gaze could traverse the Gulf of Lion, the eye would fall exactly on Barcelona, makes thoughts of everyday enormities like scheduling, bills, and blood tests shrink back to what they really are: trifles. Mere bagatelles, grains of sand in the machinery of thinking that must simply be blown out into the clear air during daily hygiene.

In Greece, at the beginning of the year, I had started to rethink our publications, including websites, blogs, books, and newsletters, and restructure them. We are only now in the process of implementing these changes and launching new newsletters — the first one in German (Markus Zohner), followed by an English version (Change my Mind!) in two months.

I’m utterly relieved that Totentanz – la quarantena has now been published and is thus completed. Not only was the months-long work on the edition itself a feat of strength, but almost five years of work on the themes are finally concluded: war stories from my mother’s side of the family, whose abysses, harshness, and devastation cast their shadows on me to this day. Perhaps through this work, I tried to light a candle to take the terror from these shadows and finally give them — and myself — peace. The pandemic, during which the book’s texts were written, we could now finally put on the bookshelf to turn towards new worlds: new texts, new newsletters, new books, and in spring 2025, also a new play.

Today: 5 K

——

Reading:
Mythologies by Roland Barthes
Munk by Jan Weiler
22 Bahnen by Caroline Wahl
Re-reading: À l’ombre des jeunes filles en fleurs, by Marcel Proust


  1. 46.008430° N, 8.984512° E  ↩︎
  2. 45.94838° N, 7.81675° E  ↩︎
  3. As we all remember from Mr. Hähnlein’s lessons, the spherical law of cosines, also known as the great-circle distance formula, calculates the shortest distance between two points on a sphere, such as the Earth. He insisted the formula would always take us home safely.  ↩︎

Update: 4 November 2024, 09:04

In Lugano. Time of writing. Over the past weeks, we have developed the company’s working theme for the coming years: Change my Mind!
The question of how opinions, perspectives and viewpoints emerge, the connections between convictions and identity and self-awareness, and the prerequisites for changing one’s opinion, perspective, standpoint. Religions, Trump, conspiracy babble: Where do they come from, why do they exist, what damage do they cause? But also: What would need to happen to enable me to believe in a God? Change my Mind!
A vast, wide, open field, and the starting point for our new theatre production in 2025: COLLISIONS.

Autumn is still warm here, the sky blue, each day a sunny gift. A magical highlight of this autumn in early October: David Gilmour at the Circus Maximus in Rome.
I dare not think about how the temperatures will now steadily drop and the light will fade. The mere thought of all the pre-Christmas hustle fills me with sheer horror. I’d love nothing more than to close my eyes and open them again in mid-March.

Finally, at last, I have found the instruments and workflow for my Zettelkasten. It had moved repeatedly, even lived in the cloud for a while. Now it resides again on the local computer, the software is open source, the documents pure text, and it is proudly growing day by day. It’s hard to believe what tremendous mental and practical effort the mere conception of organising thoughts requires.

Next week, hopefully, I will have recovered from the muscle tear in my calf and can start running again. Goal: Half marathon in April 2025.

Reading: Proust – Essays and Notes | The document of a significant literary kinship, by Roland Barthes
Re-reading: À l’ombre des jeunes filles en fleurs, by Marcel Proust


Update: 21 September 2024, 20:32

In Lugano. It takes so little, a foolish moment: the kerb grates, the bicycle handlebars twist, and you’re sent flying onto the road. The world spins once on its axis, a thud, you’re gazing at the sky and everything hurts. But only your arm is broken, because you were wearing a helmet that made a tock sound on the tarmac, like a raw egg cracked on the edge of a bowl for pancake batter. A clean break, no surgery required, not even a plaster cast, so the muscles stay alive – just a few painkillers, and it’ll all be over in six weeks.

A trifle in reality, and yet everything changes: tying shoelaces, writing texts, rehearsing – suddenly you’re a different person. Strangers ask how your arm is doing; it’s getting better, thank you, nearly three weeks have passed now.

I can hardly believe it, but our new book comes out the day after tomorrow: ‘Totentanz – la quarantena’. The editing and the production have occupied us for the past few months; an enormous work has emerged, over 520 pages, hardcover, with (Italian) texts, 300 images and 150 QR codes that link to films and audio recordings in the ether, created during the first COVID-19 lockdown in spring 2020.

Otherwise, we’re currently developing the new multi-year theatre and art project theme. We should have sketched out an initial concept by the end of September, and the dossier will be ready by the end of October. An attempt to identify the star under which we’ll navigate for the next few years.

Now reading: Totentanz – la quarantena


Update: 21 August 2024, 15:34

In Lugano. Summer is drawing to a close. After numerous journeys to Germany, England, and Italy, after significant changes and weeks of almost unbearable heat, the temperature here is slowly declining. The nights are becoming more tolerable, the sleep is becoming deeper.

My mother has indeed moved from Munich to Lugano, into a beautiful, bright flat with a view of the mountains. Gradually, she’s settling in, accustoming herself to the different light, the new language, and the utterly different way of life. For breakfast, she sits on the balcony in the sunshine; we wave to her from our window across the street.

Now, we are in the final stages of proofreading our book TOTENTANZ – la quarantena. The PDF goes to print next Monday and the book will be released in September. It’s hard to believe that no matter how much one has already corrected, one always finds more errors. However, the mistakes are becoming fewer and smaller, which gives us hope.

Next week, once the book has been submitted, production work will begin again: BEYOND – Inside the Mind of Adolf Wölfli will tour across Europe over the next three years: discussions with festival directors, museums, and organisers, development of concepts, planning, dossiers, and budgets.

Performances will be held here in Ticino, and, as soon as the days regain more structure from September, I will continue further development of my personal writing project. The goal is to have a detailed overall concept by the end of the year.

Maybe, the Locarno Half Marathon in October will be feasible. I’ll see. Tonight: not more than 6K, as it is still 32º C.

Now reading: The Body in Pain, by Elaine Scarry


Update: 22 June 2024, 14:37

In Munich. This year’s spring in Ticino has been colder than usual and thoroughly rainy. The holes in the roof of the small mountain cabin, caused by the tree that toppled over in early April, are still only patched up temporarily. I hope to be able to deal with everything at leisure from the end of July.

Now, a few days here in Munich to sort out the last books and help my mother with packing the boxes. Just four weeks until her move to Switzerland.

The main focus in these last weeks before the summer is completing the large book about the COVID-19 lockdown in spring 2020: TOTENTANZ – La quarantena. Over 520 pages, over 600 photographs, and over 100 pre-orders. Book launch on the 24th of September in the cantonal library of Locarno. Editing, corrections, photolithography, graphical fine-tuning, and corrections, corrections, corrections. A few pre-publications in the coming weeks in our newsletter.

Yesterday was St. John’s Day. Solstice. Christmas is on the horizon.

Re-reading: Gabriel García Márquez’s memoir Vivir para contarla (Living to Tell the Tale)

Before the upcoming thunderstorm: off for a 7K run around the Kleinhesseloher See!


Update: 16 May 2024, 16:45

On Train from (Munich-) Zurich to Lugano. After nearly ten days, now I’m travelling back to a waterlogged Lugano, where the highest flood alert has been declared following the heavy rains of recent weeks.

My time in Munich was a blessing, a reminder of the transformative power of experiencing different, larger worlds, immersing oneself in one’s native language, and spending entire days at the Haus der Kunst1 with Rebecca Horn2, the Brandhorst Museum3 with Alex Katz4 and in Cy Twombly’s Rosensaal5.

I had travelled to Munich for various reasons – one of them was the impending relocation of my mother to Lugano in the summer, which necessitates joint decisions and preparations on all levels. But there was another important reason for the trip as well: the final meeting with my improvisation group. In 1992, we first offered a theatre improvisation course in Munich, teaching to create stories, scenes, and plays, continuing to work with the (same) group once or twice a year.  Now, 32 years later, we have concluded it. A significant chapter has been drawing to a close, a tearful farewell to friends after over three decades of shared, profound, and intense exploration. A whole lifetime.

Heading south, the train hums through mountainous landscapes steeped in deep green from the abundant rain, and I cling to the hope that at least the unspeakable casino in Lugano, the LAC, and perhaps even Mario Bottas’s horrible casino in Campione d’Italia6, which also serves as a brothel, have been swallowed up by the floods of the overflowing Ceresio.

Reading:  Johannisnacht (English title: Midsummer Night) by Uwe Timm, Infinite Jest by D.F. Wallace

Update: 19 April 2024, 15:41

In Lugano. Naturally, the roof is damaged. Two weeks ago, the hurricane uprooted a tree, which, obeying 1) Murphy’s law and 2) the law of the falling toast 1, landed on the cottage roof. It’s a total loss; appointments with foresters and the roofer are scheduled. The silver lining is that I must drive up the mountain to the cabin more often in the coming days and weeks.

Spring sweeps across the lakes and mountains here, in all its capriciousness. The magnolias have long since faded; the temperature has dropped again, the jumpers are out of the closet, I put on my sunglasses but forget to wear my jacket, catch a cold, and find myself unable to run for a week.

There are numerous meetings, team discussions, and a multitude of questions about new topics and, importantly, their formats. It’s no longer just about theatre; it now encompasses books, podcasts, radio fiction, and conferences. Each of these media formats has its production laws, partners, and audience. The driving vision behind them needs to be strong; that’s what we’re working on now.

A few days ago, I climbed Monte Boglia with a friend, the mountain visible from my studio. The view from the top is breathtaking—across to Lake Como, into the Po Valley, to the mountain ranges in Piedmont, Valais, and German-speaking Switzerland, and northward to Monte Ceneri and Graubünden. It’s five kilometres from Brè Paese to the summit, with an elevation gain of 700 metres. Next week, I plan to try trail running on the route.

Reading: Infinite Jest by D.F. Wallace

Tonight: 8k


Update: 1st April 2024, 12:17

In Lugano. Last night, a formidable storm raged over the town, achieving peak velocities of over 100 kilometres per hour. The gales tugged and shook the century-old edifice. Lying wide awake in my bed, it seemed as though everything might dissolve instantly and disperse into the winds, reminiscent of certain macabre children’s tales. I harbour hopes that the cabin nestled in the mountains remained intact and that the severed branches and toppled trees have narrowly missed their mark. In the following days, I’ll ascend and conduct an inventory.

These days, my primary focus is correcting and finalizing the Traugott manuscript destined for the book LA QUARANTENA. Time is increasingly pressing as the date of publication draws near.

Reading: Infinite Jest by D.F. Wallace, and I Remember by Joe Brainard.

The bothersome cold, which has had me in its clutches in recent days, has at last abated.

My running goal for April is 10 hours, plus a greater distance than my brother, to clinch the challenge. 300k by the end of June. And, come October: a half-marathon in Locarno.


Update: 16th March 2024, 07:19

In Munich. The city whence I hail. One of my Heimaten. This marks one of my final visits back home, as my mother is set to relocate to Lugano in the summer. Henceforth, returning home to Munich will be a thing of the past, except visits akin to that of a tourist, ensconced in hotel chambers, with breakfast included.

Thus, a few interjected days here now, packed with familial photo documentation, visits to exhibitions, and theatrical adventures. Engaging in long conversations with my mother, orchestrating her impending relocation.

With the onset of the initial COVID lockdown in 2020, our troupe was forced to suspend rehearsals for a new theatrical piece intended as the prelude to a trilogy entitled TOTENTANZ. Zoom was then in its nascent stage, and during one of these pioneering online meetings, we resolved to metamorphose the theatrical venture into a forty-day improvised live-writing project: LA QUARANTENA. In short, now we are diligently collaborating with the graphic designer Edy Ceppi1 to transmute the resultant narratives, images, and audiovisual recordings into a book2. Release date: 24 September 2024 at 6:15 pm, at the Cantonal Library in Locarno.

Everything has transformed here in Munich; my childhood recollections of the city are pallid and empty. The populace has increased marginally, yet today, when the sun comes out, the English Garden is crowded. Colours appear oversaturated, and queues outside luxury boutiques or delicatessens seem interminable.

Tomorrow, I shall take a few laps around Kleinhesseloher Lake, the aim: 6k.

The temptation persists to augment this blog and enrich the posts with photographs and links, yet the notion of focusing solely on words continues to resonate with me. It should not increase into a travelogue nor serve as promotional material for any projects, but rather a concise sharing of inner and outer circumstances of what is unfolding.


  1. The layout is nearing completion: 444 pages. The proofreaders have just commenced their task ↩︎
  2. in Italian ↩︎
  3. by 200,000 inhabitants over the past 55 years ↩︎

 


Update: 8th March 2024, 17:35

Back in Switzerland, now attempting to shake off the images, the dust, the winds, and the whirl of travel from the mind, thus trying to refocus.

Long meetings with the Core Team regarding our work’s current and future content.

Over the past two years, we have been heavily engaged with Naturarchy, exploring the (including legal) right to the existence of nature. Last year’s lengthy conversation with James Bridle, which is still awaiting its release as a podcast 1, collaboration with the JRC in Ispra, and participation in PRO HELVETIA’s Synergies call for proposals. For 2025 – 2028, several theatre productions on Naturarchy are planned; we are convinced that this is an essential topic for humanity now and in the long term.

The developed films with the images from Greece have returned: the new old Ferrania 33 film washes out some shades of grey, creating a kind of minor chord. I am glad for the images. Every time the films return from the lab, it is a discovery and, above all, a realignment for the following photo vision.

I continue to work on a more extensive text; more on that as soon as there is more to share.

Fresh snow is covering the surrounding mountains. The Magnolia starts flowering.

Reading: Infinite Jest by D. F. Wallace.

Yesterday, I did an 8k run almost to the prison.


    1. We produced the podcast “BORDERLINES – Markus Zohner meets James Bridle” on behalf of a literature festival. Unfortunately, the festival has thus far been unable to realize its publication. ↩︎

 


Update: 17 February 2024, 22:12

At this moment, I am on a lonely Island in Greece, walking in solid winds, watching high waves and eating fish. There are few people around, and electricity comes and goes.

Besides writing and reading, I am focussing on the company’s different publishing platforms, trying to sketch a concept and the workflows for the growth of our newsletter and online magazine and personal blog.

I am much into (film) photography in this period, so I am roaming around with an analogue reflex camera on my shoulder, loaded with slow black and white film. And, in the evenings, I dream about the outcome of the shots I took during the day, which I’ll get back from the lab in three weeks’ time.

Next week, I’ll be back in Lugano for two days; the calendar will be full of appointments and working sessions with our core team, Luca and Elisabetta. Then, I’ll depart to Southern England to see my godmother, who lives in a beautiful cottage in the countryside, and take the loneliness of the place and the calm to concentrate on the conception of upcoming writing and theatre projects.
It is fantastic: I can board a train in Lugano at 06:30 am and arrive in Suffolk at 6:30 pm1.

What should I talk about to the youngsters of the Commerce school in Bellinzona at the end of March? Since I got invited to give a talk on „To live an unconventional life beyond norms and conventions“, I am trying to figure out what unconventional life might mean concretely.


  1. through Zurich > Paris > London


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