You got a lotta nerve to say you are my friend When I was down, you just stood there grinning You got a lotta nerve to say you gotta helping hand to lend You just want to be on the side that’s winning
You say I let you down, you know it’s not like that If you’re so hurt why then don’t you show it? You say you lost your faith but that’s not where it’s at You have no faith to lose and you know it
I know the reason that you talk behind my back I used to be among the crowd you’re in with Do you take me for such a fool to think I’d make contact With the one who tries to hide what he don’t know to begin with?
You see me on the street, you always act surprised You say, “How are you? Good luck,” but you don’t mean it When you know as well as me you’d rather see me paralyzed Why don’t you just come out once and scream it?
No, I do not feel that good when I see the heartbreaks you embrace If I was a master thief perhaps I’d rob them And now I know you’re dissatisfied with your position and your place Don’t you understand, it’s not my problem
I wish that for just one time you could stand inside my shoes And just for that one moment, I could be you Yes, I wish that for just one time, you could stand inside my shoes You’d know what a drag it is to see you
he was the first in his family to leave the working class, and the first to exchange denmark for half a lifetime in the foreign service.
while his older sister remained in an unassuming brick suburb outside of copenhagen, he worked in faraway outposts such as trinidad, australia, and hong kong before finally landing a more prestigious position in new york.
his parents were staunchly working class. they took great pride in their years of toil, which rewarded them with a summerhouse overlooking a fjord, which they shared with their children and grandchildren.
his parents were working-class sages - unfiltered, pragmatic, and stubborn. they rarely complained and were infrequently impressed with the ambitions of the professional class, the academic class, and what would later become the creative class. they never strived to be anything other than workers who were part of a collective. they expressed satisfaction with the fellowship of their colleagues and friends, and regularly celebrated milestones and achievements in their long careers.
his father was the first to die. it happened shortly after his parent’s golden anniversary.
as was his father’s wish, his ashes were buried in a meadow in an unmarked common grave that was part of a large cemetery located in valby, just south of copenhagen.
the common grave belonged to the workers. places like these are found all across denmark. beneath the grass lay the generation that came of age between the wars, after the first world war and before the second.
his mother lived for another twenty-six years, reaching the age of ninety-seven.
she died quietly, only a few years ago.
it was her wish to be buried in the same meadow as her husband. there were no longer any available plots near where her husband lay, but that mattered little to her.
nor did it matter to her son, for he had no intention of allowing her to rest there.
instead, he chose a cemetery in the north of copenhagen. it was more dignified than a common grave, he felt, and corresponded to the achievements not of the parents but of the son, now heir and protector of the family legacy.
the son had his father disinterred from the common grave in valby, then buried him beneath a tombstone in that cemetery north of copenhagen. a day later arrived his mother. he placed her right next to his father. the son purchased two additional plots, on either side of the parents.
the only wish that the son granted his mother was for the brass band and choir from her church to play at her funeral. they arrived by mini-bus and played in the june sunshine for fifteen minutes, departing shortly after leaving a wreath on her grave. on it was written, “with kind regards and final best wishes.”
it doesn’t mean that the film is in the show, but it does means that it is part of a discussion.
the best way to view this development is that, as MOMA’s curators are planning their show for next year (a show which deals with all sorts of objects and ideas that communicate and interact with their users - an admittedly vague umbrella term), THE THINGS WE KEEP is going to be a part of the dialogue, both in terms of how to shape the theme of the show, and possibly in terms of which items are actually selected for the show.
my film may only be a very brief part of this dialogue (brief as in five minutes), but it is at least participating.
thus, THE THINGS WE KEEP is on MOMA's radar at this very moment, and while that ultimately may not amount to too much, it feels very nice.