Project archive

graffiti archéologie; barbouillage sur les murs / Chansons Française






BIENVENUE!/
WELCOME!






Music: Maxwell Farrington


ICI C'EST MON BUREAU

MON BUREAU AUSSI MAIS UN AUTRE ANGLE

 FULLVIDS from Jedaburg on Vimeo.



CONTACT:
Le Bureau de Liam Jedaburg Witter:

(+33) 0786410944
liamrobertwitter@gmail.com


58 rue Jean de Bernardy 13001 Marseille


On fait des balades














The Family Tree

   (20 seconds walk from my apartment) The dad in this image is one of the many portrayals of  'LEAM'  an 'illusive super hero of the marseille night.
Qui sont-ils?




 LikeCan from Jedaburg on Vimeo.
 


 i like to play from Jedaburg on Vimeo.

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HENRI SALVADOR - MALADIE D'AMOUR

Maladie d'amour, maladie de la jeunesse
Si tu n'aimes que moi
Reste tout près de moi, oh
Maladie d'amour, maladie de la jeunesse
Si tu n'aimes que moi
Reste tout près de moi


Quand l'amour est petit, c'est joli si joli

Mais il devient fort, méfiez-vous mes amis

Caché sous le feuillage,

C'est comme un serpent gris



Oh Oh,

N'allez pas quand il dort

Surtout le réveiller

N'allez pas car il mord

Si vous le réveillez




Quand l'amour est petit, c'est joli si joli

Mais quand il devient fort,

C'est plus beau que la vie

J'irai sous le feuillage,

Chercher le serpent gris



Oh Oh

Car l'amour c'est la mort

Mais c'est aussi la vie

Car l'amour c'est la mort

Et c'est le paradis




Le Petit bal perdu (Le P'tit bal perdu)

C'était tout juste après la guerre,

Dans un petit bal qu'avait souffert.

Sur une piste de misère,

Y'en avait deux, à découvert.

Parmi les gravats ils dansaient

Dans ce petit bal qui s'appelait...

Qui s'appelait...
qui s'appelait...
qui s'appelait...

(Refrain)

Non je ne me souviens plus

du nom du bal perdu.

Ce dont je me souviens

ce sont ces amoureux

Qui ne regardaient rien autour d'eux.

Y'avait tant d'insouciance
Dans leurs gestes émus,
Alors quelle importance
Le nom du bal perdu ?
Non je ne me souviens plus
du nom du bal perdu.
Ce dont je me souviens
c'est qu'ils étaient heureux
Les yeux au fond des yeux.
Et c'était bien...
Et c'était bien...

Ils buvaient dans le même verre,

Toujours sans se quitter des yeux.

Ils faisaient la même prière,

D'être toujours, toujours heureux.

Parmi les gravats ils souriaient

Dans ce petit bal qui s'appelait...

Qui s'appelait...
qui s'appelait...
qui s'appelait...

(au Refrain)
Et puis quand l'accordéoniste

S'est arrêté, ils sont partis.

Le soir tombait dessus la piste,

Sur les gravats et sur ma vie.

Il était redevenu tout triste

Ce petit bal qui s'appelait,

Qui s'appelait...
qui s'appelait...
qui s'appelait...

Try to align
Non je ne me souviens plus
du nom du bal perdu.
Ce dont je me souviens
ce sont ces amoureux
Qui ne regardaient rien autour d'eux.
Y'avait tant de lumière,
Avec eux dans la rue,
Alors la belle affaire
Le nom du bal perdu.
Non je ne me souviens plus
du nom du bal perdu.
Ce dont je me souviens
c'est qu'on était heureux
Les yeux au fond des yeux.
Et c'était bien...
Et c'était bien.


The Lost Little Ball

It was just after the war,

In a ballroom that had suffered

On a floor in ruins,

There were these two, so exposed.

They danced among the rubble

In this little ball, what was its name…

What was its name…

What was its name…

What was its name…
(Refrain)

No, I don’t recall

The name of this lost ball

What I remember

Are these two lovers

With eyes for no one but each other.

There was such insouciance
In their moving gestures,
So what does it matter
The name of the lost ball?
No, I don’t recall
The name of this lost ball.
What I remember
Is that they were happy
Lost in each other’s eyes
As it should be…
As it should be…

They drank from the same glass

Never turning away their gaze

They both made the same wish

To be happy, forever after

They smiled among the rubble

In this little ball, what was its name…

What was its name…
What was its name…
What was its name…

(Refrain)
Then when the accordionist

Stopped playing, they left

Evening fell over the dance floor,

Over the rubble and over my life.

A melancholy site, it became

This little ball, what was its name,

What was its name…
What was its name…
What was its name…

No, I don’t recall

The name of this lost ball.

What I remember

Are these two lovers

With eyes for no one but each other.

There was so much light,

With them in the street,
So what does it matter,
The name of the lost ball.
No, I don’t recall
The name of this lost ball.
What I remember
Is that they were happy
Lost in each other’s eyes
As it should be…
As it should be


 snail map from Jedaburg on Vimeo.


Lugou Bridge from Jedaburg on Vimeo.

Newbridge Sound from Jedaburg on Vimeo.

Sledge fin from Jedaburg on Vimeo.

DIAGRAMS





Here is an example of an action that is planned for a specific space. I created a few different interventions to be carried out in an Abandoned Medical building. These came from exploring the building, observing the local wildlife, which consisted mainy of looters ripping wires from the walls, as well as a team of builders performing the renovation and a trapped bird. I tried to re-imagine uses for this building with actions that responded to the space.  These included walking around the tunnels with fire torches, floating candles in a flooded basement, Chinese lanterns up an empty lift shaft and tea drinking on a flat roof.
I presented these drawings as a storyboard for a film, with the knowledge that the planned actions would be transformed when human intervention was accounted for. However I wanted to imagine the ideal scenario for presenting my interactions with the building.
I gave a small group of people a copy of this before entering the building, and for them it became a souvenir of how the experience may have gone in a different reality.


This is a different type of diagram exploring how it is that we create memories by chopping experience into distinctly separate chunks. It is again from the imagined perspective of a camera filming the time lapsed movements made by one person. The drawing was taken from personal experience, although this is irrelevant to a person witnessing it because I consider it as a diagram that is demonstrating the possibility for action and can be seen by the user to have interchangeable components.






This is a different type of diagram exploring how it is that we create memories by chopping experience into distinctly separate chunks. It is again from the imagined perspective of a camera filming the time lapsed movements made by one person. The drawing was taken from personal experience, although this is irrelevant to a person witnessing it because I consider it as a diagram that is demonstrating the possibility for action and can be seen by the user to have interchangeable components.



TOOLS



Not a spade, but a 'Tachistoscopic Projector'

Tachi-sto-sco-pic - A device that displays (usually by projecting) an image for a specific amount of time;
Historically used to help WWII fighter pilots identify aircraft silhouettes to identify friends and foes.













Not a spanner, but a Map inside a film cannister!






Tom Tom Skip Diving
Grennan and Sperandio: Confict theory

Simple idea of a board game with reference to key places and people from a specific place. Much like the idea for mapping this interevntion 'And your bird can sing.'