Anna Iltnere: Cosmopolitanism

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From a manuscript of the Four Gospels in Boharic Coptic and Arabic, copied in Cairo in 1205. Source: ibiblio.org

What do you think “cosmopolitan” means in the contemporary world? I asked five writers and one artist from multiple backgrounds, with roots spreading across different parts of the world. If I could travel in time and ask Diogenes of Sinope in ancient Greece, he would most probably repeat what he famously said around 2400 years ago: “I am a citizen of the world (kosmopolitês)”.

Traveling back to 2019, novelist Chloe Aridjis reminds us that animals too are citizens of the world. Artist Ganzeer describes a cosmopolitan place without a single culture forcing itself as the hegemonic umbrella, while memoirist Jessica J. Lee highlights the strong power inherent to connecting distinct ways of being. Scholar Helen M. Rozwadowski warns against a cosmopolitanism that misses the multiplicity among cultures, peoples, and environments. For Youssef Rakha, editor of тнє ѕυℓтαη’ѕ ѕєαℓ, a cosmopolitan space is the only space to be, while for writer Fernando Sdrigotti it’s a chance to forget oneself for a while while one is lost in difference.  

 

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Fernando Sdrigotti: Satori in Hainault

USA. Portland, Oregon. 2015. Satori on stage. From the series "Mary's Girls."

Susan Meiselas, Satori on stage, 2015. From “Mary’s Girls”. Source: magnumphotos.com

The driver announced that Hainault was the last station. The car was empty save for him and a foreign-looking bloke sitting at the other end. It had taken him ages to make it that far all the way from East Putney. Transport is a bitch on Sundays — engineering works, limited service, delays, replacement buses. He was quite late, at least half an hour. He stood up with the bag hanging from his shoulders, and waited by the doors until the train stopped.

He had never been in Hainault before and it sounded exotic to him. He got his mobile phone out and shot a picture of the station sign. He walked towards the exit and realised the other guy was still sitting inside the carriage. Perhaps he hadn’t understood the driver’s message; he himself had found it pretty hard to figure out: bad speakers plus accented English. Henry walked towards the train and knocked on the window.

“It’s the last station,” he said.

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