An evening of Korda in Paradiso

Robert and Okkie Like to Watch

November 14, 2002

Chris Korda received considerable attention last week. Korda even made the front page of the newspaper without having played a single note. In the end, parliamentary questions were even asked at the last minute, thanks to a suggestion from Amsterdam CDA member Hans Res. And all that thanks to a video cut and paste job and Korda's own church: The Church Of Euthanasia. Yesterday, the time had finally come and we could all see with our own eyes what kind of joker we are dealing with here. Two 3VOOR12 editors and their story about 'the day Chris Korda played in Amsterdam': Okkie Bult from the periphery, Robert Lagendijk from the centre.

Okkie Bult from the periphery: While Chris Korda shows his much-discussed images on a projection screen in Paradiso, I am on the train on my way to Groningen, half-eyeing the clearly less spectacular photos of my neighbour showing the new house and the car of who knows who. How far removed this world is from what is happening in the 'big city' at that moment. (Although; wasn't it the Nieuwsblad van het Noorden that alerted the Lowlands organisation to what kind of person they had in store?) Now, it is not that I consciously want to distance myself as far as possible from the aforementioned artist and his performance that evening; I simply have other things to do. But if I had been in Amsterdam, I would definitely go and have a look. And not because I am curious about what the good man actually stands for. Because I have been able to hear that from many sources, including himself. No, I would have gone to see it because there might be something sensational to see. And in doing so I am actually guilty of what prompted Chris Korda to make his controversial film 'I Like To Watch'. A piece of video in which the attack on the WTC last year is presented as a perverse product for the satisfaction and entertainment of the television-watching and media-brainwashed human being. Among which Chris Korda also counts himself. In fact, this turns Paradiso into one big conceptual work of art tonight. The question remains, however, what exactly Korda himself thinks of it. It seems that he accepts the corrupt and destructive nature of man as a given. The reason why he tries to accelerate the extinction of the human race with his Church Of Euthenasia under the slogan 'Save the planet, kill yourself'. Or could there be a message in it after all? 'If you could see the you that I see when I see you see me, you would see yourself so different, believe me', Henry Rollins once sang. Something that in this case, in both directions, should give food for thought.

Robert Lagendijk from the centre: While Okkie is in Groningen, I walk into Paradiso for the, let's say, thousandth time. But for the first time I am greeted by a neat gentleman who extends his hand: "Hello, I'm Luc. Here's a press kit with some information. You probably already know most of it because a lot of it comes from the 3VOOR12 site". The Paradiso Press Kit contains bios, interviews and indeed a few articles from our own site. Every year there is a show like this. I'm a sucker for it. For example, I once saw all kinds of kitchen utensils go into the body of Jim Rose, the torture chamber of Genitortures, the fifteen-minute show of The Jesus And Mary Chain and I almost caught the golden condom at Rockbitch. Every year someone manages to mobilize half the Mediapark so that his 'fifteen minutes of fame' can be recorded. For later, nice! And of course it's even more fun if you were there 'in real life'. And that's why I'm going again tonight, despite the disappointments that these kinds of performances usually bring. In the large hall, about two hundred people are standing around the bar. On the other side, another hundred people are gathered together, guarding their cameras and recording equipment. On the stage, a table with two laptops; on one, a sticker with the text 'I like to watch'. Korda has recently moved to Germany and is on stage at nine o'clock: as agreed. Korda (m) looks like an exemplary Schoevers girl: a beautiful black dress, hair in a neat bob and her wrists correctly on the edge of the laptops. With one press of the space bar, the set starts. While Korda shyly chews gum and occasionally looks into the hall, it is too early for most people in the audience to dance. The rest of the audience is filming each other. The music that Korda makes can easily be described as cheerful party music: house. And instead of soulful female voices, Korda uses cut-up audio tapes from his own church. On the large projection screen behind Korda, he shows images of his protest actions in Boston. Bad handycam footage but probably exciting for an American. You see banners with 'Fuck Breeding', 'Eat A Queer Fetus For Jesus' or 'Eat People, Not Animals'. The video itself reminded me of an evening of local television. After an hour, Korda stopped (as promised in the press release). For the disappointed ones who had heard the song I Like To Watch during the set but had missed the images, the video was shown anyway. Korda stood at the side of the stage nodding his head. A boy next to me laughs very hard at every plane that flies into a Twin Tower and every dick that comes. When the last plane has flown into the building, the hall lights go on briefly: applause. "So now you know", says Korda in a sultry voice into the microphone. The audience wants more and Korda taps the space bar again. Suddenly the entire audience is dancing. The video apparently loosens the legs. After the encore, the press conference and 'meet and greet' continue in the basement of Paradiso. Everyone has to wait in the hall until the basement has been converted into a press center. While the hall is emptying, three camera crews drag all sorts of people in front of their lenses. By hanging my camera conspicuously on my stomach, I just escape a lady with a very large microphone. The girl behind me is unlucky and has to explain who Korda is in front of the camera. Posters with a quote about freedom of expression, drawn up by the European Court, hang on the walls. A lanky cameraman films the posters. Next to him is a police officer who holds his cap in front of his face. His colleague is bored and walks to the exit. I arrive quite late in the dressing room and don't even see Korda sitting there because he's been installed by about a hundred curious people. Next to me are some youngsters smoking weed. "Quite a hot chick", says one. "HAND NAILS!", shouts the other. With some elbow work I still get to the front regions. Unfortunately the battery of my digital camera has completely died so it's time to go home. I squeeze past Karin Spaink and then past the weeders again. In front of Paradiso someone in a medieval suit hands out stickers of Leefbaar Nederland. More fun than Rockbitch, but not as fun as The Jesus And Mary Chain I conclude. Chris Korda will definitely blow every dance festival away next summer. Certainly. After fifteen minutes I'm home, turn on the TV: an item on the late news about Korda. I see myself. Fast guys at that public broadcaster.

The preceding is a translation. The original language is here.