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Canadian artist Paul Butler invites the people of Berlin to

Collage Party

Opening July 24. from 7pm

Sparwasser HQ,
Offensive for Contemporary Art and Communication
Torstrasse 161
10115 Berlin Mitte

Open hours:
July 25. - 28. from 2- 10pm

Organized by Rodney LaTourelle and Jole Wilcke

"Images... images... I've got millions of images... screams... orgasms... preachers frothing at the mouth... all the images any hip poet ever shit out."
William S. Burroughs

Paul Butler's Collage Party is a nomadic workshop in which local artists and the public are invited to produce collage together in a party atmosphere. The Collage Party provides a free space for the local community to meet, interact, and share a process of production. In this way, the Collage Party unleashes the spontaneous energy of juxtaposition, encouraging both material and social experimentation.
Based in Winnipeg, Canada, Butler has organized Collage Parties in a variety of locations, including Los Angeles, Toronto, New York, Oslo, and London.


24.07.04 - Opening Night with DJ COOP (HiFi/Coop/Rio) at 7pm

25.07.04 - Collaging continues: free-style

26.07.04 - Collaging continues: FILM NIGHT Recent Canadian Underground Film at 8 pm

27.07.04 - Collaging continues: free-style

28.07.04 - Closing Night! All Collage on the walls PAUL BUTLER artist talk DJ Lilyrosemelody



from Paul Butler

Paul Butler's CV

I started hosting Collage Parties as a way to recapture the art school energy I was missing after graduating from The Alberta College Art and Design in 1997. I gather a variety of collage materials, invite a number of friends to join me, and make art for no other reason but to have fun. Over the past 5 years, the Party has grown exponentially. I have been invited to host them all over the world including Oslo, London, Los Angeles, New York, Japan and Berlin.

The Collage Party format (it is nomadic and flexible, some events are one night only, others last a few days, the attendance at one Collage Party might be 10 people, at another 200) allows me to experiment and do things I wouldn't normally do in my own studio. There are always new people joining the party and as a result, I am constantly being exposed to new ways of thinking and working.  This art-making process is informal, fun and rigorous all at once.


"One Night in Bangkok"
by Ian August

In October of 2003 I was assigned to write an article about Paul Buttler's latest Collage party that was to take place in his hometown of Winnipeg.  I was ecstatic at this chance to visit Winnipeg and witness first hand why it is being described as the creative volcano that fiercely spews out art, music and culture so hot that it must have come from the center of the creative earth.  And what's more, I was to report on one of the major players responsible for making up this artistic tsunami that is taking the world by storm.  Paul Butler is a veritable jet- setting collage playboy, who criss-crosses the globe from London to Los Angeles Throwing collage parties for those lucky enough to be on the V.I.P. guest list.

The collage party starts Friday night and runs straight through to Sunday evening.  It is being held at The Graffiti Gallery, located in the heart of Winnipeg's Historic exchange district.  
6:15 PM

The Graffiti Gallery lives up to its name.  The interior of the large one room werhouse is drenched from floor to ceiling with tags.  There are tables set up and several boxes of magazines along one wall.  I am immediately approached by a man who introduces himself as Pete Buller.  He is dressed in all white with the words "Winnipeg Reprazent" printed on his hoodie.  His monotone voice is as calming as an automated telephone answering system, and his cool demeanor is enough to put a professional wrestler at ease.  I ask for Paul Buttler and he informs me that he is short fifty dollars for a beer run.  I automatically hand over three twenties.  He assures me that Buttler will be here soon and that I should make myself at home.  

7:00 PM

I introduce myself around and decide to try my hand at collageing.  Small talk is a good way to get the scoop so I strike up a conversation with the fellow beside me.

How many collages have you made?

I never make any collage when I come to these things, I just end up reading the magazines.


9:30 PM

People have begun arriving and the focus turns away from collage as boisterous greeting are being made.  The energy is building. It is only a matter of time now before the creative damn bursts making way for a flood of witty, humorous, perhaps even poignant collage works.

2:30 PM
No flood yet.  No sign of Paul Buttler either.  The number of finished collages can be counted on one hand.  The telephone however seems to be the cause of much excitement.  It seems that phone sex lines offer two free hours to first time callers.  A large swarm of young girls, street hoods, and transvestite prostitutes has formed.  Pete Buller is on the phone entertaining the hoard with his elaborate scenarios.  He is in the middle of describing a torrid scene involving a church key, a length of twine, and a folding poker table when he spots me and waves me over.  It seems Buttler is on his way but he's short on cab fare so I donate another twenty.  A quick wink accompanied by a wave of his hand and I am dismissed.  Back on the phone he describes himself as a taller more successful Wesley snipes.  The crowd woop's with approval.  I walk away wondering what the hell I am going to put in the article on Monday.
Saturday Morning
10:25 AM
The sound of breaking glass shocks me awake.  I must have passed out on the couch.  Pete Buller is scurrying about, hastily placing empty beer bottles into boxes.  He comes over, bumm's a cigarette and without my even saying a word he begins to reassure me that my trip was not in vein.
"Don't worry about a thing last night was just an ice breaker.  The second day is always when the magic happens.  Your about to see some amazing art legends in the making today".  With every soothing word I could feel my anxieties melting away.
I loan him a hundred dollars to cover the losses of the previous night, and he leaves to take the empties back to the hotel across the street.
9:30 PM
Pete Buller has not returned.  No one has shown up.  I left around noon to find lunch but a group of teen-aged thugs chased me back into the building.  All I've eaten today are pizza crusts.  The piece for the magazine is over.  I'd take a cab directly to the airport except that Buller has all of my money and my cards were taken from my wallet in my sleep last night. I'd have some money wired to me but the phones do not allow long distance calls and the computer is so riddled with porno pop-ups that I can not get an e-mail through.  I am trapped inside of an abandoned factory. I am tightly griping my hair and gently bouncing my head off of a table.
9:45 PM
The door bangs open, and in rush fifteen to twenty people led by a large well-dressed bald man.  They all sit down at the tables and get to work without a so much as a word. I can not believe what I am seeing.  The fury with which they work is mesmerizing.  They extract images from magazines with the steadied accuracy of field surgeons. The combinations of image and text yield smooth punch lines with a lasting effect.  The juxtapositions are unheard of.  Mike Tyson, wildlife, famine, Paris Hilton as a farmer.  No easy, slapstick gags are even being attempted and no topic is sacred.
12:00 PM
I'm dumbfounded. They have been at it for over two hours with out letting up.  All the while the bald man in crocodile shoes is circling the tables and collecting finished works that he then places into large aluminum brief cases.  I have avoided looking at him because the glow that emanates from his jewelry is hard on the eyes.  He approaches and without the hindrance of courtesy, informs me that I owe him twenty collage pieces.  Upon quickly explaining my situation and producing press affiliation he brightens up.  I sit with him while he catalogue's a stack of collage.  He explains that he owns an establishment that offers bar-tabs in exchange for artwork.  Art work that he sells on the Internet for a tidy profit.    
12:30 PM
We are interrupted by the entrance of Pete Buller.  The bald man excuses himself and begins speaking to Bulller in hushed tones  He then produces a large stack of bills from a third brief case. An exchange is made and then he walks out with his crocodile shoes and his aluminum cases filled with collages.
Buller begins handing out beers and pot joints.  All art making stops.   
12:35 PM
A fight breaks out.
12:45 PM
The place is trashed.  Full contact tape ball soccer leads to a game of dodge the beer bottles. A tape web spans the room, tables are overturned. A full size foam and fiberglass recreation of Michelangelo's David is shattered by a garbage can and his appendages are sent into the air. Someone is taped to a pillar five feet off the ground and through a funnel force fed liquor and pills.
12:55 PM
For the last half hour one lone girl has sat pleasantly in the midst of all this and continued to make collage while dodging beer bottles.  How anybody can stay focused in a shit storm like this is beyond me.  And its going to have to stay that way because if I don't leave now I'm going to end up taped to a pole or worse.  
12:57 PM
The Teenagers out side gave me two bucks for my watch and I'm now on a transit bus to the airport.
Two Weeks Later
I'm home now and almost recovered from my trip.  The headaches have stoped but I still wake up in the middle of the night with cold sweats.  I'm still cant figure out if I saw Paul Buttler there or not.  One thing I am sure of is that the art in Winnipeg is good but its safer to buy it on the internet.

Paul Butler's gallery
Paul Butler's homepage

Collage Party is supported by the Embassy of Canada, Berlin, Winnipeg Arts Council, Manitoba Arts Council, and Sparwasser HQ.