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Niels Lomholt David Zack unlimited 
America is counting its heroes, again. Kerouac, Ginsburg, Pollack, Jack Dempsey, Muhammad Ali, Jimmy Hendricks, Janis Joplin, Mark Twain, Andy Warhol, Lincoln, Clinton, Morrison etc The American hero is different from the European or Asian hero; they are of today, they build their myth on present life in the state, on the nations psychology, politic, social structure and religion. They reflect the individual and freedom, cost what it may. A wish for flying, the Icarus syndrome is ever present. Their flight does not end before they reaches the sun, the wings melt and the body crash into the sea, but the myth lives on and shines even brighter. This is a very positive side of America or is it only outside America that Kerouac, Pollack, Hendricks Joplin counts? I would like to add another name to the list of American hero list: David Zack. A natural born member of the family. I have only met Zack on two occasions in 1979 and 1980, but our correspondence runs over nearly 15 years. In 1972 I participated in Bill Vazans Montreal: Project X - meeting points. Zack sent a letter and the contact were established. 1972 was a period after Pop art, conceptualism, minimalism, drugs and Rock' Roll, and political art. Correspondence and Mail Art were mediums to find new ways, new networks, and new doors. The Mail-network attracted many new practitioners and activities outside the sometimes rather claustrophobic art circles Zack's writings, attitude and projects reflected that mood, a fascinating flow of stories and language like water drilling holes into subject matter and cutting corners. Angles on observations jump cut and long passages of just surface. A kind of writing so far from the arm lengthen "wise men" throwing their merciful eye on main subject, of unhappy married couple with a rational everyday language. All this was not the Zack style, a language somewhere between the Oracle of Delphi author descending his mountain and the whisper of the "I" writer with an unlimited appetite and eyes like radar. Zack said: It's good to be square, then you can se from all four corners. There is a world of writing from letters to newspapers and everything in between, Zack writing was something else that gave voice to a well known, but rarely described feeling, short comments on all kind of situations, events, intimate details from of artist life in USA, a stream of conscious unmarked by moral, political correctness or any other limiting factor, just a stream of possible thoughts and words. At that time I was working on a project: LOMHOLT FORMULAR PRESS, a way of structuring the impossible and connecting contradictory statements into a, so called, form. Zack understood this concept instinctive and in no time Zack had formed his own correspondence formula society, leaving novelist, poets, journalist to their own fait. In 1979, at the time when the American hero Jim Jarmush was shooting his first film "Permanent Vacation", I was teaching at a Danish folkhighschool. After 6-7 years of correspondence it was time to meet some of the Mail Art friends. It was setup as 6 residencies of each 2 weeks. The following artists were invited: Cavellini, Italy, Ulisses Carion, Holland, Robin Crozier, England, Horatio Zabala Brazil, Davi Det Hompson, USA and David Zack, USA. All but Cavellini came. Zack arrived on my birthday the 17th of February 1979; he was to take over from Zabala. Zack got right into the birthday cake with his long guitar nails, but only the creamy part of the cake, to my children's amazement, breaking sacred rules and not being told of. Then the ukulele came out and a long chant on Zabala, Zabala, Zabala followed and carried long into the night. The Zack relationship had taken a new turn. New perspectives were to follow. Zack performed, talked, made music alone or with the students, told stories, played the extraterrestrial oracle from Delphi and made collages. Twisting and turning, dancing and stinging like a bee, the art world answer to Muhammad Ali The visit in 1979 demonstrated the close relationship between Zack's words and living, endless talking, sound making, collages running up and down over his surroundings, a warped mirror. Two events stand out from Zack's visit to Denmark. In 1979 I was playing an Ornette Colman inspired alto saxophone. Zack's approach to music became a great inspiration, not so much his music or his musical skill but the way the music always popped up or how an event, sentence or a word suddenly became a song/sound, the fragmented flow of classical music, pop, blues, William Blake, cello or self invented sounds moved in and out of small talk, stories, philosophy on the Monty Cantsin concept at other times it would go into long monotous streams of words fx Zabala, Zabala, Zabala, art is a prison Zabala, Zabala etc or a Cavallini "song". What it lacked in musical quality it gained in flexibility and dialog. It was not "hey, play a tune" but mingle ling with the world, participation, dialog, twisting and turning language and statement. On the 3th of Martz we went on a 3-hour drive to pick up Robin Crozier and his wife at the ferry from England. The plan was to plaster the waiting room and our self with Cavellini stickers, delivered by Cavellini, in that way Cavellini would be present in some form, and then welcome the Croziers with Zack music for voice, ukulele and flute. The trip to the ferry went well, Zack sat in the back making up and playing a Cavellini song, which most consisted of the word Cavellini, a kind of Buddhistic mantra. At the ferry waiting room, everything went well even the police helped to put up the Cavellini stickers, on their own request. Unfortunately the Crozier ferry was 3 hours late which spoiled a little of the inspiration, but all together a good song and Zack performance. The other episode that stands out, banal as it is, but throwing a light flash on the political situation of socializing and moral that was on the sunset horizon. As our behavior of political correctness at that time (a mix of Christ and Marx) were to be exchanged, American value meet Europe, food were the metaphor here. A lunch in Denmark 1979, is serving "Smørrebrød", bread, butter, egg, tomato, pate, herring, etc. on top. "Smørrebrød" is a classic event with rigid rules of what to mix and what to follow what. It became very clear from the first day that Zack was unaware of the basic rules of this food game. But as "when in Rome do as the Romans" I took it upon me to enlighten Zack of the local costume. When Zack came to the table, the second day, with his plate loaded and mixed from herring, pate, jam, sauce, cheese, bacon all in one pile, I thought this is the time to start lesson 1. A careful choreographed plate with bread and herring and egg - that is the first step. I had rehearsed this lecture, the need was anticipated and the lecture was detailed and fairly long. But before I had warmed up, Zack looked at me and said "Niels, I have given up on criticism". This may not be the most earthshaking news that some American nut-artist brought to the European table, but it came at the perfect time. The protest against the Vietnam war was gone but not forgotten, cold war was still hot, but the 70th were a time of changes and it had to come to the table as, indeed to ART. It became very clear to me that Zack was unto something. I had worked in Mail Art for some 7 years, intrigued by the network, by the focus on the social activity, the anti-marked work of art, but up to the point of the Zack-plate my Mail Art were based on European art approach. The Zack-plate made me realize the necessity for a change in attitude. Not just a change of artistic material like paint, Ready Made or found objects. The European intellectual state of affaire was an analysis down to the smallest details in philosophy, litterateur, art and film, and a strong disbelieve in the old Freud say: Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar. Pop Art made an assault on this detail analysis together with other art forms. This is where the Zack genius lays, the organic and coherent existence with modern and American way of life. This place Zack with other American heroes. I met Zack again in autumn 1980 in Los Angeles. The line of small miracle continued. After a month with Monty Cantsin in Montreal the plan was to do US by Grey Hound and fly home from Vancouver. The trip was planned with several stops on the way seeing old friends and two weeks in Los Angeles to see Zack. To confirm this arrangement I called Zack several times on route, but no answer. I was getting a little worried that our arrangement didn't hold and I would have to find other lodging in Los Angeles. The bus stopped in Las Vegas around midnight and I called Zack, a lady answered the phone, running out of coins I asked if she would do a collect call, she refused and hung up. So, no contact. 07:00 in the morning the buss arrived in Los Angeles, all alone, no fun. To think it over I went to have a cup of coffee, the worse coffee I have ever tasted. A man, who had the same coffee, poured it over the waitress head. Welcome to Los Angeles, fortunately the coffee was only luke warm. After the coffee I went for a walk around the station, and there was Zack greeting me as the most natural thing of the world, how this arrangement stuck in his otherwise chaotic mind I don't know, fortune I guess. We walked to Zack's car!! Zack had bought a car from a convict in Canada, very cheap $125. Aware of its unreliability Zack had parked the car on a hill. After several attempt of getting the engine going, he opened the hood, and I am sure it was the first time Zack looked under the bonnet of a car. The mess of wire and things inspired Zack's sense of re-arrangement, I could hear the mind at work and the fingers moving along red and blue electric circuits. We were parked next to a barbershop, it was around 9 in the morning and no costumers in the shop, so on this brilliant morning, Zack had his head under the bonnet. I was looking saying nothing and two barbers in white coats with their hands on their back joining us. The barber said: Press the speeder 12 times and the car will start. Zack closed the bonnet, and being a great believer in this kind of mantras like a text for a new song, Zack pressed 12 times, the car started like the most natural ting in this world and we drove of into the morning of Los Angeles. I leaned back in the well used seat and had a thought or two about the understanding of car and driver Zack and the old grey Ford a rare sight in LA. And for the next 14 days one miracle upon the next followed. There was a girlfriend. We left the barbers on the sidewalk, and made our way toward Santa Monica, where Zack had a "flat". This was my first visit to LA, but I knew it was flat and enormous. We drove and drove, there seems to be no end to the traffic, no spacey highway, just the same traffic-soup. After half an hour of monotonous driving and Zack talk, I realized that we were not making any progress, but turning the same corner around the same block. I mentioned this, he knew, but there was this girlfriend, she lived in that block and he liked to be close. What can you say about this kind of nearness? Eventually we got to the flat in Santa Monica, which happened to be a Chinese furniture showroom. Zack had a very dark corner with a desk and the typewriter, the madras on the floor and a toilet shared with two other families, only it was in the other flats, not an ideal place to bring a friend. We were there a day or two and more and more furniture were coming into the showroom and the Zack place became smaller and smaller. Zack was on his typewriter and made optimistic comments on the nice spacey space. I am sure there was lots of space between Zack and his typewriter that space was ever expanding, but me, the visitor just landed on the greyhound with no map, this was not ideal. We went for a walk on the beach and I was introduced to a couple of Zack friends. When the Chinese moved the madras against the wall to place a new dresser, it was time to move and we drove to Ron's place. Ron was working in the weapon industries on the computer development, but he also had a drinking problem, Bacardi rum was his favorite. As we arrive at his place around 8 o'clock he was half way through the bottle. During our take away dinner Ron slid under the table in a very quiet way, and stayed there. The next evening Ron was working on his bottle, but got talking on the American way of freedom and independence and how this came to be expressed in different ways. If anybody came to his door he was prepared, to show how prepared he went to his bedroom and returned with a large collection of firearms. To avoid and accidence he emptied the guns on the floor. Then came the special feature. Ron had a huge gun for elephant hunting with a telescope sight. He turned of all the light of apartment, pulled the curtains a little, and examined the neighbor's activities through the telescope sight. Ron's flat we in a very close build area, with shoeboxes build on top of each other at different angles, so there was lots of windows to examine. Only most of the windows were dark with the curtains opened a little. The next day Ron had to visit his mother, and I moved on to Judith's place. She was an unpleasant woman who had the space, but was not ready for visitors. I think she was playing art-hippie and wanted to do Zack a favor, but hatred it was on my head. In the meantime, Lon Spiegelman was putting up a show at the Otis Institute. I spend some time there. One afternoon Zack turned up with his girlfriend Wanda what a woman. Wanda was round, wearing a see through ballet outfit, a big summery hat and red lipstick. After the introduction, she invited for a meal in a fancy clam bar, the next day. As afternoon break we went to Richard's place, a beautiful flat on a hillside overlooking LA. But what made the afternoon memorable was the Wanda show on TV. Wanda had come into some money within the last year, according to Zack. She had a food program on TV, and this was on that afternoon. We all sat down in Richards's sofa. Here was another American wonder; the TV remote was build into the sofa, never to be seen before or after. Anyway, we found the channel, and there was Wanda wearing the morning's hat and lipstick, talking about cream cakes, and at the same time eating two enormous very creamy cakes. The program lasted about 20 minutes, and by that time both cakes were gone, apart from the cream next to the lipstick, fingers and table, eaten real time, no editing. I was not sure whether this was a freak show or a food program. But Zack assured me this was a regular food program, very informative and instructive. This had brought a little fame to Wanda and earned her a new silver Cadillac. Next day we were in the Cadillac going to the clam bar. In the back of the car were some opera librettos, which were for Wanda's opera classes, she said. At this point I was suspicious about everything. This was absolute real, but what kind of reality. I was prepared from Zack's visit to Denmark that something was in store. My luggage was an American dream of happy families, post-war happy endings and grand opportunities. This was different. Living condition, and being different personalities. It was possible to be a "nut" and make a living. LA is big and my connections were few, but there were straight line between this "nut" culture and the main culture output. The clam bar was very nice, classy and expensive. We had good food, wine and lots of it. Wanda keeps up the speed from yesterday, but we all had our share. Suddenly Wanda remembered her ballet class, excused herself and of she went. Zack and I looked at one another and at the bill. Zack was not a person to carry a lot of money, so the bill landed on my plate. This enormous bill became the reason for a prolonged stay and arguments with Judith, but that is another story. Soon after, I left LA for Vancouver. My lesson with Wanda , who I never saw again on TV or in real life was; get out before the bill lands on your plate, always make sure there is a back door, show your riches on the front, show your talents and hint at others. A very useful learning on how to build a career on show, fame and money. Zack left for Mexico with Wanda shortly before I left LA. The story goes that they had an argument on the way and Zack was asked or thrown out of the silver Cadillac. It didn't surprise me. They were opposites Zack had lots of talent, but no idea or wish to build a career, Wanda had no talent but was a natural career builder. Zack didn't leave series well-defined artworks behind, but a large number of miracle, letter, events, collages, publications and songs. He was a great interpreter of American life and an unlimited worker of miracles. America needs this hero to understand it's own values, potentials and future, although it has welcomed fugitives of all kinds and chased them away politically and financial, without these heroes America becomes just another state preventing Icarus even to put on his wings. In 1985 I left the Mail Art network. Moved address, and stopped answering the network. In 1994 I received the last letter from Zack, send from Mexico 1984. Zack had performed his last miracle. Text: © Niels Lomholt. All rights reserved. Ærø, August 2008
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