After
(€x)˘hange BoŁogna 2oo1
(Festival "Staggione di Caccia")
douglas parsons
video documentation by pedro paixao
day 1
I set up the (€x)change office for a short time in a few different places: under the arcades. No one is stopping by. No one is even hardly looking at it. I try putting up a little sign reading "Ufficio di Cambio", (and I try NOT putting it up too). One nice old gentleman chats with me for awhile, explaining that he used to collect coins too. I try some odd places, a small construction spot in a side-street, surrounded by orange barriers. A group stops. It's some English men in Bologna to build a booth at the auto show. I laugh because I saw the "Fiera" (fairgrounds) where they are working, -- huge posters everywhere read "PROFESSIONALS ONLY-- NO PEDDLARS ALLOWED!" Quite charming and slightly outdated word --"peddlar". I tell the English gentlemen that they can exchange some coins. They opt for the "profit motive" and expire a few Lira in the box and take a one British Pound coin. I laughingly try to make them feel guilty. Business is generally slow.
Some hours later...It's getting dark, and cold. No more visitors. I move in front of a huge church, and sit pathetically on the stairs with the box of coins and money-portraits in front of me. Masses of people hurrying by, glancing only out of the corner of their eyes. I get strange sensations, of what it feels like to beg, even though I'm not begging (or wait, maybe I am?). I think maybe the cards with money-portraits look like saints. I roll a cigarette. Crisis: I can't find my lighter. I start asking people walking by for a light. No one even responds. (Is it the box of coins?) A huge group of students walks by, half of them smoking. They seem not to understand what I'm saying ("Ai il fuoco?" maybe my italian is completely wrong) and gesturing, and they are eyeing the box, confused. I abandon the box and watch it from across the street. Still, even without my pathetic begging presence, only a few people stop and look to see what it might be, maybe still afraid that it might be an "offering" box to some saints, even though it's clearly marked "Exchange Office", and the "saints" are paired (coupled actually) scans of the characters decorating money-- royalty, folk heros, politicians, musicians, generals, peasants....my "carte de visite", entitled "Counterfiet Love Affairs, Our Founders: Forging Relationships".
day 2
Today I set up the box of coins in the market-place, an open-air market of clothes, gadgets, etc. A kindly merchant immediately comes over and explains ALL the rules of the market, where I can be etc. I set up in an empty space near his booth, and try to blend in. Two security guys show up a few minutes later. They ask if I'm selling anything, explaining that if I'm not, then I can stay, otherwise I need a permit. I'm not sure if what I'm doing is selling or not, since what I'm selling is money, and actually just exchanging it, --but of course I say "no", I'm not selling anything (is bartering selling? Is exchanging selling? Does a "sale" depend on the motive?) The security guard interrupts himself mid-sentence explaining the rules: "Hey, that's old Yugoslavian money!!!" He's from Belgrade. He momentarily forgets his job. I can stay. Security leaves-- "ciao!".
Security comes back moments later with the kindly merchant from next-door. "Could you move a little bit further away from his booth?" Fine. People are calm, paced, shopping...many stop by the (Ex)change office, but there are few actual exchanges. "A il Euro?" "No, non ancora". No I don't have euro yet (no one does). Two girls go home to bring back a specific coin to exchange. One man is looking for old Lira, a coin of One Lira. He's shopping. I don't have it. People are rather determined, seem to know exactly what they are looking for, and I thought I had such a nice selection of coins!
I move to another area of the market. The merchants with large booths are annoyed at my presence, on each side they want me to move the other direction, citing (or inventing) some "rules" which I don't understand. I'm being squished into non-existence. The ambiguity of the (ex)change office must be bad for business. There are many many African guys selling CD's nearby. They have set up a little stuffed mechanical cat "meow meow meow", it walks around, almost getting stepped on. They seem to have set it up as a kind of humorous diversion. I talk with one guy in French. We have a very warm exchange. He tells me they are all from Senegal (and they all seem to know each-other). Then we talk "business": his job is rough. The police caught him once, and confiscated all his CD's, and gave him a fine of 100,000 Lira.
He doesn't seem at all surprised about the nature of my project, and accepts immediately that I set up the coin box table next to his sheet on the ground with CD's on it, after all, we are really on the periphery-- less official than the already unofficial-seeming flea market vendors. He wants to go home and get some Senegalese money to exchange. "Coins I hope?", "Non, des billets!" I tell him I ONLY exchange coins. He ONLY has bills. We both have a good laugh.
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