Hiwa K: People tend to forget, this amnesia which people are having, especially  now with the return of the right wing. Sometimes artists work more into the  future and show them what could come. But sometimes you have to remind them  just what happened yesterday, you know, because people tend to forget more and more. Baruther Strasse is the name of my street. I go to the studio here. “Barut”  in Arabic means explosive powder. Anything I do is an archeological act. You start to dig, and the material  starts to tell you who you are. The material tells you, "Okay, you are doing quite well. I like you  like this. Go further. Stop here." You play and you test your borders  as a small Chihuahua, or dog. You try to see who is the master and  the material always talks to you. Mostly, I take my works from  anecdotes, like my own childhood. I was born Kurdistan of Iraq. Kurdistan is  a minority in Iraq. Color TVs didn't come to Kurdistan, because the government's not  investing always in those minority areas. So my father was putting color foil on the TV. One week we had it red, one week we had blue. The whole city was doing that.  It's a very silent protest. I think my works are very Kurdish. Kurds is about being formless,  because you don't have a country. You exist but you don't  exist on the map officially. After the first World War, the French and the  British decided not to give the Kurds a country. They gave a part to Iraq, to Iran,  to Syria, and then to Turkey. So we are just cut in four pieces like pizza. Yeah, as a Kurdish person, you are twice unsafe. Like as Iraqi, you are unsafe once as Arab. But when you are Kurdish, you are unsafe twice. This work ["The Lemon Tastes of Apple"] happened 2011 when I went back to Kurdistan  and it was the time of Arab Spring. I don't like to hide behind my camera. To jump in front of your own camera,  you make yourself vulnerable, and you are not looking at things  as an object, you are a part of it. And this engagement is very important for me. I say it was very stupid to do it, because I ... I wouldn't do it now. It was very dangerous moment where  you walked towards this militias which are shooting you one by one and playing  Ennio Morricone’s music while inhaling the gas. The absurdity of the whole thing, it's a big joke. You brother is shooting you,  what do you have to lose. You just have to do a gesture. I’m using the mechanism of a joke. You wouldn't expect somebody stupid  coming with a harmonica and playing. You experience things differently  with a joke. It has a twist. It has a way of stimulating your thinking. A joke always wakes us up with a slap,  which comes from somewhere you don't expect. I have very rational part of my practice,  but also have a very irrational part. I want to bring something what doesn't fit; what  doesn't fit, and it's a bit strange, you know. Since many years, I knew Bakir  Ali, the Kurdish philosopher, was based in Berlin working as a taxi driver. We had the long-term discussions in Kurdish. I wanted to interrupt his thinking. So I just started to attack him physically. Wrestling interrupts us from this  kind of linear intellectual debate. When we're out of breath and  somebody's holding your throat, you can't verbalize what you want to say. You sometimes experience the most existentialist questions. Hiwa K: Very often, people say, "You are visual artist."  I say, "I'm a blind visual artist." I search blindly for tools. I'm more like having a begging bowl and knocking  at doors, "Do you have anything to give me?" I'm just borrowing disciplines from  dance to marble game to music to cooking. They are the language of the people. I think if art had some chance, it should  change completely this intellectual language. When you are trying to balance  something, you are in a panic. You are swinging all the time, you don't have  a center. You are not anchored somewhere. So very often, people say I'm based in Berlin. I'm never based. I'm based on my feet, you know. I came walking. I tried seven times to leave my country, and I was  even in a few prisons, because I didn't make it. The wave of refugees itself is a statement. It's a performance art actually, like people  are performing and coming here saying, "You see what happens to me  because of your ignorance, because of you not caring about the system." I would be very happy to go back to my country, because I want to spend some time with  my mountains, my people, but in peace. And this peace, I say the  West has ruined it for us. I remember we had always war. I don't  remember that there was no war in Iraq. I went through three wars  before coming to the West. During the second World War, Kassel was destroyed and now Kassel is producing so  much weapons and exported many, many weapons to my country and other countries. Kassel is forgetting it's own past. In Greece, there was a structure of five  water pipes to be used for construction. Refugees are living there, so it was like  a kind of refugee camp or hotel for free. It's not about patronizing, but  it's just about reminding people. The refugee which we see, they come just  because you've export wars to those countries. The works I do is very much about reminding  how many fingerprints we have onto each other, how much we are embedded into each other. Sometimes you call your work political, but by  overdosing it, you kill the political in it. So, for me, it's important  to make this soft connection. And here I call it to refer with  your pinky, not with your index. Instead of telling all these white people, "You guys, look what you are doing  to my family and people are dying." No, make them get it by themselves. I think it's our responsibility,  people from dominated countries, educate them about politics. Educate  them about knowing about our pain. The major changes should happen here, because these countries are  countries who are in charge of making big decisions about the whole world. People here, they live quite  well and they don't care. They don't want to change anything. We are stuck somehow. I'm in a  quite stress situation for now. Free thinking what I'm doing, whether  that's helpful or just decorating the façade of the system with this democratic color.