To Rococo Rot - Kölner Brett
(Staubgold)
A dozen modules of identical size and shape comprise the Kölner Brett, a modern-
living complex conceived by Cologne-based architects b&k+. This uniform design,
reinforced by the Lego-like outward appearance of the brick-shaped building,
stands in contrast to its customized interior spaces, modified by successive
occupants to suit diverse tastes and lifestyles. In effect, the Kölner Brett is
a work of practical, perpetual art.
Gallery veterans To Rococo Rot found immense appeal in b&k+’s simple yet
elegant concept. Despite what you may have heard to the contrary, architecture
and music have been dancing around--and about--each other for ages. To Rococo
Rot’s “musical translation” of the Kölner Brett, first presented at a 2001
architectural exhibition by the original TRR trio of Lippok brothers Ronald and
Robert and Kreidler bassist Stephan Schneider, extends the courtship.
To Rococo Rot’s “Kölner Brett” hews close to its model, making it more
successful than many interdisciplinary exercises. The combination of concept
and craft also makes this the trio’s most satisfying work since “Veiculo.” In
keeping with b&k+’s blueprint, the album consists of 12 untitled tracks, each
exactly three minutes in length and engineered from such techno components as
springy space-bass and metrical beats. Working within this 4/4-as-four-wall
framework, To Rococo Rot tastefully details the suites with sonic signifiers
that reflect an apartment’s tenants, their unique personalities, and their
assortment of work-and-play accoutrements.
Each of the dozen interchangeable units has been personalized, turning
this “Kölner Brett” into a dollhouse decked out with impeccably European
decorating flair. Interiors include an ultramodern office space--all ergonomic
angles and humming efficiency--and a cozy loft bathed in the soft, Sunday-morning strains of acoustic guitar. There’s the fitness freak’s space, lined
wall to wall with workout equipment, a blender churning out thick protein
shakes at regular intervals; the family flat, frugally decorated but filled
with warmth and laughter; and the swinging bachelor’s pad, site of the party
that never seems to end, source of the make-out music and lewd thumps and
giggles that permeate the shared walls.
To Rococo Rot’s “Kölner Brett” complex also has its share of more curious
occupants. An artist’s studio, spartan yet untidy, echoes long into the night
with the throb of a cheap clock/radio and the clamor of creative fits. A techie
isolates himself in a darkened fiefdom, happily oblivious amid the carnage of
rewired and partially cannibalized electronics and the harsh flicker of
multiple monitors. A sweet incense haze and the Zen gurgle of an indoor
waterfall seem to speak for the perfect feng shui of one particular suite. Most
intriguing of all, though, is the unseen occupant of the complex’s “Apartment
Zero,” doors triple-bolted, windows and peepholes blackened, walls soundproofed
to muffle all signs of activity.
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