born 1937 in Amstetten. Study of Histroy and German language and literature. Lives in Vienna. Numerous literary awards. For his writing Julian Schutting received numerous awards, among others the Trakl-Prize and the Wildgans-Prize.
A poet embarks on a journey. We accompany him on his path through all kinds of natural and cultural landscapes, which his words smoothly adapt to. The accuracy of his gaze and his perspective allow us to take part in the visual adventures and broadening horizons he encounters. With him we witness the Czar’s homecoming to St. Petersburg, wander through a Japanese forest and through modern Moscow, visit the Museum of the Revolution in Hanoi and admire the Windcatchers of Yazd in Iran.
A collection of poetically condensed moments, lifted out of their everyday rut by our senses and illusions.
Eloquent and with fine irony Julian Schutting attends to the great topics of literature: What turns a poem into a poem, how to treat political topics without slipping into humanitarian banalities, and how to nowadays still write nature poems? “To the moon” is the exemplary summarisation of Schutting’s poetry.
Against every prevailing trend he sings the praises of Orphelia’s waterbed, refers to Schiller’s Nenia and makes songs rush through raging seas. In refined compositions, Julian Schutting’s poems carry us away into a world that is in dept to Enlightenment, to sensuality and delight for language. This bow to poetry results on its part in great poetry, and to the one who gets into it, the power of the word opens up. But he isn’t too serious about it, and so one can allow to be fooled with pleasure.
August 1924: It is rather embarrassment why the elderly writer H. returns to a place from his childhood – Fusch, a spa in the midst of Salzburg’s mountains where he had spent summer after summer with his parents when he was growing up. A lot has changed in the meanwhile: friendships have grown apart, his fame dates back several years and his work is endangered by his impaired health and the slightest disturbances. The change of time after the war has found its way even into the life in remote Fusch and H., who became a stranger to himself, participates only in observing.
During a walk H. becomes unconscious. Awaking, he gets to know young Doctor Krakauer, a duchess’ physician in private practice. He too is a repatriate in a foreign world. H. seeks to gain his friendship, but still there is the duchess and still there is a loneliness he cannot escape from.
Walter Kappacher tells from a life, which has been overtaken by the time. He tells with captivating intensity and with lucid empathy, as competent as virtuosic. He confirms his special position in the german-speaking literature: “a rare one” (Peter Handke).