My First Alternative Pchychology Estonian Institute
George P. Burdell
Gorilla Says Fuck

Grave worries about the future of Estonian art
O’Connel-Bonin and Milk

On 7 October, the KOVIKAVI art conference took place in the Braenderigaarden Art Hall in Viborg, Denmark. The aim was to get Europe out of its constitutional stalemate. Specialists from Denmark, Lithuania and Estonia were invited to participate. Various foundations and private companies, willing to invest in the future, supported the undertaking.
Unfortunately, the works of Estonian artists, produced in an invented experimental technique, were destroyed en route to the exhibition venue and, when the foully stinking parcels were opened, only some kind of unidentified substance poured out of them. The organisers took this as an intended insult and when the apologetic artists turned up, the police were duly called. The whole affair ended for the artists with a few hours in police cells, from which they were only released thanks to the interference of an official Estonian representative. They had to go home, utterly disgraced.
An attempt was made to salvage the situation by means of a notebook with instructive contents in the style of Watchtower. The real ‘saviours’ of the situation were instead the Danish and Lithuanian artists.


Gorilla Says Fuck Art murder! Season kicked off with a stupid row
Fire Carrot

An international art exhibition opened on 7 October in the Viborg Braenderigaarden Art Hall in Denmark, where Estonia was represented by the Gorilla Group.

Prominent artists from Denmark, Lithuania and Estonia were asked to interpret the condition and trends of Europe during the past 15 years. The outcome was supposed to be a posh catalogue and an exhibition in Viborg, Denmark.
However, an unexpected row broke out between two artists representing Estonia. One called the work of the other ‘typical pederast art’, whereupon the other took their whole joint effort to his summer cottage and burned it in his garden. A replacement short video, full of sex and violence, was hastily put together. Alas, the organisers considered it below par and not related to the given topic, thus refusing to include it in the exhibition. They briefly even thought of pressing charges, as one of the gorillas in the video was clearly underage.
The entire undertaking was saved by local sponsors, who provided free beer to the visitors. The local club organised a thematic party, titled Art and I. There were DJs from Denmark and Lithuania. The best costume received Carlsberg B-shares as an award. The waitresses were topless. Schoolchildren had a day off.


Burdell Women in men’s clothes opened the door to me. “I have a dream” was coming from a distance. Politely apologising, I slipped through the door into the entrance hall, camera in one hand, hiding the gun behind my back. “Good evening”, I tried to sound as natural as possible. But instead of “good evening”, only a weird whistling sound emerged from my mouth. Of course! How could I have forgotten! I am now dumb, and will never be able to speak again! Why did it have to happen to me!!? There were five women. All in black suits, white shirts and black ties and hats. They were wearing men’s shoes. Their faces were such that I instantly wanted them all. I slipped the gun into my back pocket and pressed the camera button at the same time. The first shot was done.

“Yap, yap, yap”.

Stefan’s ‘politics of the erotic’ no longer convinced a more serious observer. It was obvious that I had to rely on my own devices, whereas one shot has already been wasted and the women’s glances became increasingly suspicious. To win time I reached for a biscuit on the table, the camera awkwardly dangling and the gun uncomfortably bulging in my back pocket. The question “what on earth am I doing here, dumb and practically impotent?”, hammered in my head. “Take your shoes off!” yelled one of the women so suddenly that I farted. Obediently, I took off my shoes, muttering, or rather wheezing, something by way of apology. The socks stank to high heaven. Yuck! “Well, as a last resort I can always pull my gun (it was an air gun) – or my camera”, I thought to myself, “oh, that’s out already”.

A few moments left until the arrival of the drivers. The dog placed the Gorilla says: Fuck! catalogue* on the bookshelf and started screwing a woman. “The moment you spot the first Jewish Yankee, shoot”, said Zatyortyi. “Right, I now know the name of at least one woman”, I thought, with vague satisfaction. What luck that I am not Jewish myself, although they might not know it. The dog screwing the other woman was unpleasantly close to me so that the spit dribbling from his mouth threatened to ruin my velvet pants. To gain time until the drivers’ arrival, I decided to introduce myself.

“Mr Magus”, I held out my hand to the nearest lady dressed in black. Of course, nothing but a wheezing sound came from my mouth. But the woman nodded understandingly, took my hand and squeezed it tenderly. I felt myself getting hard.

“Would you care for some LSD?” asked the woman, without releasing my hand. I wheezed something incomprehensible. The woman again nodded, turned to the others and said, “Sure he wants some. Let’s give him the rectal version”. I tried to pull my hand free, but failed. The woman meanwhile began to grow and become hairy all over. I was about to faint when I luckily managed to turn into a rabbit.

The Jews and the Palestinians made up and the Middle-East problem was taken off the agenda. The dogs once again focused on the Lithuanian-Estonian war. Everybody hoped to get laid, a lot. However: “I felt my heart warming to the degree where my unfortunate inclination towards monogamy had set the limits for me”, said Stefan, interfering. “I am a rabbit, and so what”, I thought maliciously, and tried to climb on top of Stefan, who was standing in front of me. At best, however, I only managed to touch the edge of his jacket with my ears. In desperation I finally sank my teeth into the jacket and folded my legs up. “Fucking great”, I had time to think before there was a horrible cracking in my mouth and I crashed down on my back like a bag of shit, mouth full of blood. Teeth gone, shit. The shock was such that I suddenly became human again.

“Who the hell is fooling around here”, I thought to myself and fumbled for the gun. Finding it still there, my mood lifted, and I fired an (air gun) bullet into the arse of Zatyortyi, who was wearing a Cossack uniform, at the same time photographing him. The picture was bloody good.


*Catalogue Gorilla ütles: Vittu!/ Gorilla Says: Fuck! of the Estonian part of Danish-Lithuanian-Estonian art exhibition

| Estonian Art 2/06 (19) | Published by the Estonian Institute 2006 | ISSN 1406-5711 (Online) | ISSN 1406-3549 (Printed version) | einst@einst.ee | tel: (372) 631 43 55 | fax: (372) 631 43 56 |