Barbara Kukovec: SWEET WORRIES

The beauty of Slovenia’s landscape is enchanting to many. Densely planted churches stab the sky with their turrets like pointed spikes. Farmers work the land, and kitchens smell of potica (traditional walnut roll) made according to carefully guarded recipes.

Then the doorbell rings and there stands a short woman carrying a box. She invites you to feel what’s inside. You do so and touch her bare breasts.

What if Valie Export had performed this in the Slovenian countryside in the 1970s? In our backyard? What if Bobby Baker had performed his cooking shows in our home kitchens every month from the 1990s onwards? What if Carolee Schneemann had pulled a leaf out of her crotch to read her story in the village cultural centre?

Would the kitchens still smell so sweetly of potica?