Republika Banana

“……Thus, after Taurida and the Crimea had been added to the empire by Prince Grigory Aleksandrovich Potemkin, Catharine set out with him to view her new possessions. The country through which she passed had been a year before a deserted and resourceless land. Now, by Potemkin’s extraordinary deceiving scenography of false house fronts, made of painted wood and canvas, the empress found colourful buildings, magnificent arches, luxurious vegetation, a fertile country, a busy, cheerful and healthy population which swarmed along the riverside to greet the sovereign – with applause…..”


The daily history is frozen. It is frozen, because in Bucuresti Republika Banana the temperature is below -15 °C and also because we find ourselves in the marvellous miracle of an autochthon oasis without history, without memory – the past became irrelevant, the future cannot be other than the present. Supposed to be untouchable, as for fear not to collapse under the doubts of the unbeliever, the oasis lays majestic in the very centre – between the blocks. A dysfunctional solution for an impossible problem, this architectonic pirouette, restricts the passage, but deviates into sculptural glamour. Urban explorers in swimming kit, plastic slipper shanliang, the pneumatic shark and phosphorescent ducky, hurry to push sensations to their limits on the centrifugal platform. Ecology and genetic transfer through microinjection get doubtlessly connected. Republika Banana offers the efficient restart for a new humanoid, adjusted to the new living conditions of a post-polar paradise. But mostly, it offers the gilding sparkle of the now cultural-museum-piece: the golden tooth, appearing from under the national smile, which dismantles, what it hides: an absence.

Text by Marta Jecu