Note 1
Sociologist Max Weber refused treatment at Swiss resorts. He was going through a mental crisis and found the mountain landscape “too dramatic”. However, the scenery at Alpenhof is more reminiscent of a romantic comedy than a drama; as the sunrise comes, the wind forgets the secrets of the night.
Note 2
There are four of us—artists assigned female at birth—who have come to Alpenhof this autumn of 2024. The study of people is no less emotional than the study of books. Yet, amateur anthropologists like myself must always remain attentive to their own emotions.
Note 3
The library unfolds through playful experiences. The games offered by the shelves include: spotting the first book you see, freestyle browsing, journeying among topics. But the potential players are the most fun. We exchange books and allow each other to cross the boundaries of our interests.
Note 4
Scholar Giuliana Bruno describes the phenomenon of Baroque allegorical maps (circa the 17th century) coming alongside the social needs of emotional discourse. She notes that these maps seem like early feminist board games, served to cultivate societal openness and vulnerability.
Note 5
Melancholy is social, melancholy is female, melancholy is terrestrial.
She lies between inspiration and apathy, like the Land of Emotions.
My friend asks, “Is it depression?” No, my dear, it is a landscape.
Note 6
The short warm period in October is called the same in both Russian and German: the summer of older ladies. Lovely.
Note 8
Some of the toponyms on the Map of Melancholy—Sensitivity, Nervousness, Burnout, Fatigue, Overstrain, Spleen, Boredom, Insomnia, Horror, Confusion, Depression, and Acedia—are taken from Karin Johannisson’s book Spaces of Melancholy.
Note 9
Frankly, I have problems defining emotions. They go beyond language. Perhaps that’s why I build a map of melancholy using books as associations. So many new feelings have arrived nowadays, and I’m still barely dealing with the oldest ones.
Note 10
Got a crush. A photo of a crashed car from the book 100 Notfallsituationen und lebensrettende Massnahmen was the first thing I noticed. This book is an empathy test and it seems I failed it.
Note 11
Alexandra Kollontai, a Russian revolutionary and ideologist of free love, writes to her lover:
“I want to know that you are happy. Our relationship is strange! We could be ‘des bons camarades,’ and you know it—I have a lot of ‘good’ warmth for you, really. That’s why I suggest you remember me even when you don’t have time for ‘women’. I shake your hand in a friendly manner.”
Note 12
Below the slope on which Alpenhof stands lies a valley that resembles an exemplary board game map. Beyond the valley, mountains rise, concealing from view all the land to the east.
Sara Culmann (she/any pronouns) is a visual artist based in Amsterdam. She works with video, animation, and games and creates associative narratives where technology, humans, and more-than-human beings influence one another politically and evolutionarily.
During her residency, she explored playable approaches to researching the library and created The Map of Melancholy, an installation in the form of tabletop game map, that presents a personal journey guided by books associated with the range of emotions. The map is inspired by the historical salon board game Carte de Tendre (1654-61), which depicts the thorny path of tenderness as envisioned by individuals of that era.
October 2024
Text + Fotos: Sara Culmann