In this beautiful text we can experience the postive notion of institutions. Freely after Claes Oldenburgs text I Am For an Art. This text has over the years developed into a signature text for International Festival.

I am for an institution that is political-erotical-mystical, that does something other than sit on its ass in a museum. I am for an institution that grows up not knowing it is an institution at all, an institution given the chance of having a staring point of zero. I am for an institution that embroils itself with the everyday crap & still comes out on top. I am for an institution that imitates the human, that is comic, if necessary, or violent, or whatever is necessary. I am for an institution that takes its form from the lines of life itself, that twists and extends and accumulates and spits and drips, and is heavy and coarse and blunt and sweet and stupid as life itself. I am for an institution that vanishes, turning up in a white cap painting signs or hallways.

I am for institution that comes out of a chimney like black hair and scatters in the sky. I am for institution that spills out of an old man’s purse when he is bounced off a passing fender. I am for the institution out of a doggy’s mouth, falling five stories from the roof.I am for the institution that a kid licks, after peeling away the wrapper. I am for an institution that joggles like everyone’s knees, when the bus traverses an excavation. I am for institution that is smoked, like a cigarette, smells, like a pair of shoes. I am for institution that flaps like a flag or helps blow noses, like a handkerchief. I am for institution that is put on and taken off, like pants, which develops holes, like socks, which is eaten, like a piece of pie, or abandoned with great contempt, like a piece of shit.
I am for institution covered with bandages. I am for institution that limps and rolls and runs and jumps. I am for institution comes in a can or washes up on the shore. I am for institution that coils and grunts like a wrestler. I am for institution that sheds hair. I am for institution you can sit on. I am for institution you can pick your nose with or stub your toes on. I am for institution from a pocket, from deep channels of the ear, from the edge of a knife, from the corners of the mouth, stuck in the eye or worn on the wrist. I am for institution under the skirts, and the institution of pinching cockroaches.

I am for the institution of conversation between the sidewalk and a blind mans metal stick. I am for the institution that grows in a pot that comes down out of the skies at night, like lightning, that hides in the clouds and growls. I am for institution that is flipped on and off with a switch. I am for institution that unfolds like a map that you can squeeze, like your sweetys arm, or kiss, like a pet dog. Which expands and squeaks, like an accordion, which you can spill your dinner on, like an old tablecloth? I am for institution that you can hammer with, stitch with, sew with, paste with, file with. I am for an institution that tells you the time of day, or where such and such a street is. I am for an institution that helps old ladies across the street. I am for the institution of the washing machine. I am for the institution of a government check. I am for the institution of last wars raincoat. I am for the institution that comes up in fogs from sewer-holes in winter. I am for the institution that splits when you step on a frozen puddle. I am for the worm’s institution inside the apple. I am for the institution of sweat that develops between crossed legs.

I am for the institution of neck-hair and caked tea-cups, for the institution between the tines of restaurant forks, for the odour of boiling dishwater. I am for the institution of sailing on Sunday, and the institution of red and white gasoline pumps. I am for the institution of bright blue factory columns and blinking biscuit signs. I am for the institution of cheap plaster and enamel. I am for the institution of worn marble and smashed slate. I am for the institution of rolling cobblestones and sliding sand. I am for the institution of slag and black coal. I am for the institution of dead birds. I am for the institution of scratchings in the asphalt, daubing at the walls. I am for the institution of bending and kicking metal and breaking glass, and pulling at things to make them fall down. I am for the institution of punching and skinned knees and sat-on bananas. I am for the institution of kids’ smells. I am for the institution of mama-babble. I am for the institution of bar-babble, tooth-picking, beer drinking, egg-salting, in-sulting. I am for the institution of falling off a barstool. I am for the institution of underwear and the institution of taxicabs. I am for the institution of ice-cream cones dropped on concrete. I am for the majestic institution of dog-turds, rising like cathedrals.

I am for the blinking institutions, lighting up the night. I am for institution falling, splashing, wiggling, jumping, going on and off. I am for the institution of fat truck-tires and black eyes. I am for Kool-institution, 7-UP institution, Pepsi-institution, Sunshine institution, 39 cents institution, 15 cents institution, Vatronol Institution, Dro-bomb institution, Vam institution, Menthol institution, L & M institution, Ex-lax institution, Venida institution, Heaven Hill institution, Pamryl institution, San-o-med institution, Rx institution, 9.99 institution, Now institution, New institution, How institution, Fire sale institution, Last Chance institution, Only institution, Diamond institution, Tomorrow institution, Franks institution, Ducks institution, Meat-o-rama institution.

I am for the institution of bread wet by rain. I am for the rats’ dance between floors. I am for the institution of flies walking on a slick pear in the electric light. I am for the institution of soggy onions and firm green shoots. I am for the institution of clicking among the nuts when the roaches come and go. I am for the brown sad institution of rotting apples. I am for the institution of meows and clatter of cats and for the institution of their dumb electric eyes. I am for the white institution of refrigerators and their muscular openings and closing. I am for the institution of rust and mold. I am for the institution of heart, funeral heart or sweetheart heart, full of nougat. I am for the institution of worn meat-hooks and singing barrels of red, white, blue and yellow meat. I am for the institution of things lost or thrown away, coming home from school. I am for the institution of cock-and-ball trees and flying cows and the noise of rectangles and squares. I am for the institution of crayons and weak grey pencil-lead, and grainy wash and sticky oil paint, and the institution of windshield wipers and the institution of the finger on a cold window, on dusty steel or in the bubbles on the sides of a bathtub.

I am for the institution of teddy-bears and guns and decapitated rabbits, exploded umbrellas, raped beds, chairs with their brown bones broken, burning trees, firecracker ends, chicken bones, pigeon bones, and boxes with men sleeping in them.
I am for the institution of slightly rotten funeral flowers, hung bloody rabbits and wrinkly yellow chickens, bass drums & tambourines, and plastic phonographs.
I am for the institution of abandoned boxes, tied like pharaohs. I am for institution of water tanks and speeding clouds and flapping shades.
I am for U.S. Government Inspected Institution, Grade A institution, Regular Price institution, Yellow Ripe institution, Extra Fancy institution, Ready-to-eat institution, Best-for-less institution, Ready-to-cook institution, Fully cleaned institution, Spend Less institution, Eat Better institution, Ham institution, pork institution, chicken institution, tomato institution, banana institution, apple institution, turkey institution, cake institution, cookie institution.