{"id":247,"date":"2019-08-26T02:34:10","date_gmt":"2019-08-26T02:34:10","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.lacan.com\/symptom\/?page_id=247"},"modified":"2024-05-22T14:38:03","modified_gmt":"2024-05-22T14:38:03","slug":"alex-kayser","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.lacan.com\/symptom\/alex-kayser\/","title":{"rendered":"\u201cWHEN I COME TO CADAQUES I ALWAYS STAY HERE”"},"content":{"rendered":"

[vc_row][vc_column][vc_single_image image=”815″ alignment=”center” onclick=”custom_link” link=”https:\/\/www.lacan.com\/lacan1.htm”][vc_single_image image=”212″ img_size=”full” alignment=”center” onclick=”custom_link” link=”https:\/\/www.lacan.com\/symptom\/”][vc_empty_space height=”70″][\/vc_column][\/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column width=”1\/6″][\/vc_column][vc_column width=”2\/3″][vc_custom_heading text=”\u201cWHEN I COME TO CADAQUES I ALWAYS STAY HERE\u201d
\nby JOSEFINA AYERZA” font_container=”tag:h2|text_align:center|color:%2311004f” google_fonts=”font_family:Forum%3Aregular|font_style:400%20regular%3A400%3Anormal”][vc_empty_space height=”100″][vc_column_text]<\/p>\n

\n
\n

I was staying for a few days in Barcelona at a friend\u2019s place.Some of us sat on the floor talking, a new visitor appeared in sight. She walked towards me, said hello, and told me about her and her husband going to Morocco. Suddenly, she thrusted at me a bunch of keys. I looked up in question. She said the keys belonged to her place right by the sea in Cadaques.<\/span><\/h4>\n<\/div>\n
\n

\u201cGo there\u201d, she said.<\/span>
\nQuite intriguing, all she added is that there was a boat there. I called my boyfriend in Paris, he took a plane to Cadaques…so the adventure began.<\/span><\/h4>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\n

The place was in fact very nice, the Mediterranean blue as ever, the stones, oh well, no sand, we loved, enjoyed every part of it. Two days later, this man dressed in black from head to foot, carrying a suitcase, aside him a pretty woman, came through the door…
\n<\/span>
\n\u201cHello, when I come to Cadaques I always stay here.\u201d What to say, he looked interesting.
\n<\/span>
\n\u201cMy name is…Hans Giger. I\u2019m here to visit Salvador Dal\u00ed.\u201d\u201cYou are…Hans Giger, who did Alien?\u201d<\/span><\/h4>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

[\/vc_column_text][vc_empty_space height=”30″][vc_single_image image=”65″ img_size=”full” alignment=”center”][vc_custom_heading text=”Giger by Alex Kayser” font_container=”tag:h6|text_align:left|color:%2311004f” google_fonts=”font_family:Forum%3Aregular|font_style:400%20regular%3A400%3Anormal”][vc_empty_space height=”70″][vc_column_text]<\/p>\n

\n
\n

\u201cYes, lady. I am Giger who did Alien, every part of it.\u201d<\/span>
\nA Swiss artist, his airbrush images of humans and machines linked together in what he called a cold \u201cbiochemical\u201d relationship. He handed me two books I still have and keep preciously. Soon we learned the biochemical monsters he was creating were to come alive at night in the form of screams and loud noises coming from the bedroom.<\/span><\/h4>\n<\/div>\n

One night, my boyfriend and I woke up in alarm, this time to a howling in the contiguous room, it was intense.You could guess these were sounds of desire and sounds of fear, how to know if they needed help, if they were even calling for it…<\/span><\/h4>\n

The next day Hans approached me and said \u201cI want you to come into the room because you\u2019re bound to hear us in the night, so you know nothing bad is going on.\u201d<\/span><\/h4>\n<\/div>\n

\u201cOh yes Hans, of course…\u201d<\/span>
\nThe pretty girl sitted on a bench was soaking wet, she said hello, I said hello. We talked a bit until I left the room, somehow it felt better about hearing them in the middle of the day and the middle of the night.<\/span>
\n\u201cIt is all about opium\u201d said Hans, \u201cI consume opium.\u201d<\/span><\/h4>\n

Two days later:<\/span>
\n\u201cHello, my name is Alex Kayser, when I come to Cadaqu\u00e9s always stay here.\u201d<\/span><\/h4>\n

\u201cNow I\u2019m here to visit Dal\u00ed, and we will be taking some photos. Do you want to model for me? We will be taking photos of Dal\u00ed in his Cadillac with a little poodle, and you and me could be in the reflections of the car, you making surprise signals…\u201d<\/span><\/h4>\n

Alex\u2019s proposal sounded like a lot of fun…and making\u00a0surprise signals in Dal\u00ed\u2019s vehicle should not be too difficult. \u201cLike a dance\u201d, he added.<\/span><\/h4>\n
\n

Too much too soon, yet it sounded like a nice thing to do, I came to agree to his proposal.<\/span><\/h4>\n

There were no more free rooms in the house. Alex was already preparing to sleep on the couch in the living room as if he had done this a hundred times.<\/span><\/h4>\n

Alex was this very tall man, with a lot of hair, long and curly, the camera hanging from his neck permanently. Shooting photographs could be his favorite thing in life, photographs he then processed, colored and refined out of his own technique.<\/span><\/h4>\n
\n

Because of my love for Jacques Lacan I was promptly taken by the way Alex would focus on body parts. If something on my own body parts. And we talked about it.<\/span><\/h4>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

[\/vc_column_text][vc_empty_space height=”70″][vc_single_image image=”269″ img_size=”full” alignment=”center”][vc_custom_heading text=”Salvador Dal\u00ed, Cadaqu\u00e9s by Alex Kayser.” font_container=”tag:h6|text_align:left|color:%2311004f” google_fonts=”font_family:Forum%3Aregular|font_style:400%20regular%3A400%3Anormal”][vc_empty_space height=”70″][vc_single_image image=”185″ img_size=”full” alignment=”center”][vc_custom_heading text=”Cadaqu\u00e9s 70s by Alex Kayser.” font_container=”tag:h6|text_align:left|color:%2311004f” google_fonts=”font_family:Forum%3Aregular|font_style:400%20regular%3A400%3Anormal”][vc_empty_space height=”70″][vc_column_text]<\/p>\n

He loved it that I would bring up Lacan in theory, \u201cMan does not make love to the whole body of the woman, only parts of the body\u201d…I said, while quoting him, \u201cPhallic jouissance is the obstacle; why man cannot enjoy the body of the woman. Precisely because what he enjoys is\u00a0the jouissance of the organ.\u201d<\/span><\/h4>\n

And this is how my legs and the edge of my skirt got\u00a0photographed against a pane of glass filling a window. On the other side of the pane of glass, H. R. Giger\u2019s figure, his face somehow melancholic, drove in the libido.<\/span><\/h4>\n

If I choose to say one thing about Alex Kayser, I would put the emphasis precisely on his chase for the libido, forever present in his photographic tricks, in his choice of the image, on the color over tinted bodies, and so.<\/span><\/h4>\n

We were going to visit Dal\u00ed. I decided on a beige Kenzo dress with thin straps and subtle puntilla on the edges, which I would end up wearing in the reflection of Dal\u00ed\u2019s Cadillac.<\/span><\/h4>\n

I combed my hair, I painted my eyes and lips. Alex pulled up in his car and we drove to Salvador Dal\u00ed\u2019s home. Dal\u00ed was standing on a terrace, welcoming us, \u201cHello!\u201d<\/span><\/h4>\n

Gala was seated with her back turned towards us. I approached her from behind and offered out my hand, which stayed there suspended in the air. Without turning around she said,<\/span>
\n\u201cI hate women.\u201d<\/span><\/h4>\n

We went in search of the little poodle and brought it to the Cadillac. With his camera in hand, Alex started shooting Dal\u00ed and the dog. Then came my turn to do my dance in the reflections of the car. Alex did his part while telling me to look away.<\/span><\/h4>\n

Hans Giger died in a hospital in Z\u00fcrich after having suffered injuries in a fall.<\/span><\/h4>\n

Alex Kayser died at his home in NYC after having suffered injuries in a fall.<\/span><\/h4>\n

[\/vc_column_text][vc_empty_space height=”70″][vc_single_image image=”267″ img_size=”full” alignment=”center”][vc_single_image image=”265″ img_size=”full” alignment=”center”][vc_custom_heading text=”Josefina Ayerza by Alex Kayser, Cadaqu\u00e9s” font_container=”tag:h6|text_align:left|color:%2311004f” google_fonts=”font_family:Forum%3Aregular|font_style:400%20regular%3A400%3Anormal”][vc_empty_space height=”70″][\/vc_column][vc_column width=”1\/6″][\/vc_column][\/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_single_image image=”66″ img_size=”full”][vc_custom_heading text=”Giger by Alex Kayser” font_container=”tag:h6|text_align:left|color:%2311004f” google_fonts=”font_family:Forum%3Aregular|font_style:400%20regular%3A400%3Anormal”][vc_empty_space height=”70″][vc_custom_heading text=”All photographs by Alex Kayser
\nCourtesy of Alex Kayser Foundation” font_container=”tag:h6|text_align:center|color:%23000000″ google_fonts=”font_family:Forum%3Aregular|font_style:400%20regular%3A400%3Anormal”][\/vc_column][\/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][\/vc_column][\/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][\/vc_column][\/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][\/vc_column][\/vc_row]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

[vc_row][vc_column][vc_single_image image=”815″ alignment=”center” onclick=”custom_link” link=”https:\/\/www.lacan.com\/lacan1.htm”][vc_single_image image=”212″ img_size=”full” alignment=”center” onclick=”custom_link” link=”https:\/\/www.lacan.com\/symptom\/”][vc_empty_space height=”70″][\/vc_column][\/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column width=”1\/6″][\/vc_column][vc_column width=”2\/3″][vc_custom_heading text=”\u201cWHEN I COME TO CADAQUES I ALWAYS STAY HERE\u201d by JOSEFINA AYERZA” font_container=”tag:h2|text_align:center|color:%2311004f” [\u2026]<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":66,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-247","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.lacan.com\/symptom\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/247","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.lacan.com\/symptom\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.lacan.com\/symptom\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.lacan.com\/symptom\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.lacan.com\/symptom\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=247"}],"version-history":[{"count":46,"href":"https:\/\/www.lacan.com\/symptom\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/247\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":942,"href":"https:\/\/www.lacan.com\/symptom\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/247\/revisions\/942"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.lacan.com\/symptom\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/66"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.lacan.com\/symptom\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=247"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}