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KV1 | KV2 | KV3 | KV4 | KV5 | KV6 | KV7 | KV8 | KV9 | KVX | |
ANDERE TEXTE & PROJEKTE | |
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KUNST VERLASSEN – Eine Topologie | |
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| Proceedings in Space A Freestyle Exhibition Reading |
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The Crack in the Teacup Two positions frame the exhibition by the way they are spacially set up respectively by their media articulation. Michael Schade’s photo Prag (Prague) from 1993 and Andreas Schulze’s installation LP. |
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Michael Schade, Prag (Praque), 1993 (barite copy) |
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From the late 80s until his death in the summer of 2004, Michael Schade kept his photographic images in constant oscillation between the documentary and the literary, shifting them from wherever his work, his writing, took him into the real: the practicalities of life. Cuba, India, Korea and most importantly Cambodia are all places where the Leipzig-born photographer spent long periods of time and became the framework for an approach to the production of images that repeatedly guided Schade’s photographic gaze in a direction and movement contrary that of the world’s attention. On a photographic level, this gaze tends to open out towards an emptiness, on whose fringes their contents unfold to build towards the literary. The melancholia inherent in Schade’s images (and texts) does not so much draw on the basic melancholic quality of photography as a medium, which is, as everybody knows, condemned to bring the past into the present, but gains an existential quality from this disposition. When the past is captured in Schade’s photos, this signifi es an ongoing attempt to let the coldness, poverty and loneliness of real life spill over into its aesthetic pacification. Finally, we enter another kind of darkness – this time simply owing to a lack of sufficient light – in the basement of the exhibition space, whose size can not as yet be ascertained. Before our eyes a small, red speck of light appears and starts moving slowly and evenly to the left on a trajectory that, after a few minutes’ observation, we start to re cognise as the layout of the building. Andreas Schulze traces the walls of the darkened basement – a big, empty hall of 800 square metres – with a centrally installed laser, rotating at a steady rate of 360° per minute. Like a light-house. Occasionally, the laser point jumps from its trajectory to a different point in the room and back again – cutting across a column, that is invisible to us, standing in the hall. |
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Andreas Schulze, LP, 2004 (laserpointer, motor) |
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In its anti-clockwise motion, the little dot of light marks out every surface it touches across a horizontal cross-section – including us. In passing us on its circular movement around the room, it crosses our body from left to right, at the height of our chest, like the sights of a gun that hasn’t yet chosen its target, and so continues to scan the walls and other visitors. As we watch this minimal speck of light traversing through the absolute darkness of the room with its continuity, its symmetry, and the occasional inconsistencies in its order, we perceive an unexpected serenity, an aesthetic sensation deriving from the world of formal abstraction, that for a few moments manages to sustain the illusion of touching the sublime. This sensation collapses at oneminute intervals when confronted with the brief, but psychologically powerful moment of distress caused by the impression of being directly targeted and by the growing awareness of the laser point – distant, immaterial and graceful as it felt a second ago – now getting closer and then suddenly touching our chest, as though the body, on entering the room, had disturbed the gracefulness of this closed aesthetic order. - - Across the range of installation, sculptural, photographic, painting or fi lmic processes, it is the specific spatial constructions and discourses, inherent in the work and relevant to an outside reality, that – by being positioned as objects in relation to each other – contribute to the reflective status of any artistic production. But taken as events in space: are art works ever more than and different from the proverbial storm in a teacup? Whenever they manage to create any form of noticeable material, aesthetic or mental turbulence, are those not only simulations of a torrent that has no bearing on the real world outside? But as modes of reflection and perception, artistic production and reception are a priori fissured and permeable in regard to any construction of reality in which they co-operate and participate. And whenever artistic positions can formulate themselves along these ruptured horizons, it is not simulated storms that rage through images and sculptures, but the option of real storms brewing in the real world. If we consider teacups as the containing spaces in which art’s storms are turning their circles, arrested in their being object and at our disposal, then finding the cracks in those teacups is to mentally put them at the disposal of the space of the real, the here and now. Alexander Koch |
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