Artwork, Artwork Everywhere
A Summer 2017 European Art Adventure
“Undoubtedly philosophers are in the right, when they tell us that nothing is great or little otherwise than by comparison.”
The author at Documenta 14, in Minujin’s Parthenon of Banned Books, with gelato
The summer of 2017 culminated for this author in a research trip based in Neidersachscen (Lower Saxony) Germany, along the Rhine river. It is a region subject to various bouts of intense sunlight, morose rain and mercurial windstorms. Many new experiences arose over the course of these travels, but more notable than the tiny beer cups in Dusseldorf (which are refilled until you protest!) or the frightening contrast of Bauhaus light fixtures flanking the immaculate Cologne cathedral (ugh.) were the myriad of art festivals present in the surrounding German countryside and even farther afield. Consider Kassel, a German city known for hosting Documenta 17 (and little else); Skulptur Projeckte Muenster: a festival better at testing your navigation skills than your art history knowledge; and finally ending at the stunning Istanbul Biennale, spanning Istanbul’s Golden horn area in the European section of the City.
So join me in recounting this art adventure – a journey through cultures, customs and contemporary art awaits you.
Skulptur Projekte Muenster: Muenster, Germany
Aug 26-27, 2017
“You can only rent bikes for the day,” the bike attendant repeated.
We had half a day to explore Skulptur Projekte Muenster by bike, as the morning had been spent otherwise engaged, blissfully unaware of the time restrictions placed on potential bike renters. I consulted my watch again which insisted that it was, indeed, 2:30 pm.
Sighing, I told the attendant we would take two bikes.
And so began a not-entirely-painless, self-directed bike tour around Skulptur Projekte Muenster in the balmy late August weather of a sunny Muenster, a phenomenon (sun, that is) apparently rare in this region of the country. Sunlight wasn’t the only rarity – also elusive, apparently, was the innate ability to navigate Muenster’s many biking trails, especially in the area near the city’s Schlosspark (castle garden) by the former town castle and botanical garden. Quiet, tranquil, and utterly un-navigable, but yielding spectacular contemporary art installations, along with incredible calf muscles.
Cosima von Bonin and Tom Burr: Benz, Bonin, Burr, at Skulptur Projekte Muenster 2017
First, however, was a quick stop to marvel at a tractor trailer, a crate and an abstract sculpture: The three of which combined to form Benz, Bonin, Burr – an art installation by Cosima von Bonin and Tom Burr with a quirky, humorous take on the various components required to produce an art installation. Those elements hidden from the view of the general public – the transportation vehicle and storage container – provide additional context in the realm of artistic production. Next it was on through the town center, or Altstadt (old town) of Muenster which kept things interesting by prohibiting bikes on certain streets while allowing them on others. After finally succumbing and parking our bikes for sanity’s sake we wandered into one of the best installations of the entire Projekte – In Our Time by Irish artist Gerard Byrne. The installation took place in a hidden room in a library, and provided a look into a 1970’s era radio studio with a fuzzy vinyl soundtrack and sound installations interspersed throughout the room, complete with extra percussion and bass lines. This was easily the coolest installation on view, providing a sharp and witty look at outmoded technology in a space sometimes neglected in our current internet search era, the library.
Geralt Byrne: In Our Time, at Skulptur Projekte Muenster 2017
After a quick zoom around the city’s bicycles-only Promenade, it was off to the previously mentioned labyrinth of Muenster’s Schlossgarten to visit two more installations, one of which was another top spot: Hito Stereyl’s HellYeahWeFuckDie, a mixed-media installation with video and sculpture ruminating on humanity’s violence with regard to robotics and artificial intelligence. Stereyl’s video components show robots being subjected to violent stress tests: falling, toppling, failing to succeed. Her deft explorations of what makes humanity real – and artificial intelligence artificial – leave more questions than answers.
Hito Stereyl: HELLYEAHWEFUCKDIE, at Skulptur Projekte Muenster 2017
Finally, it was back around the Promenade to the final of the top exhibitions on view, Nicole Eisenmann’s Sketch for a Fountain. Eisenmann’s trademark expressionist figures take over a fountain near the cycling promenade, perched like friends hanging out on a summer night. One reclining figure recently lost its head in a bout of vandalism, while another lies down with a beer and a third stretches, yoga-like on a perch in the fountain.
The only fit conclusion to an afternoon of avid cycling was a turn in a happily situated biergarten, where my guest and I consumed a single responsible beer before returning the bicycle back to its home to find a new owner for the next day’s Skulptur Projekte visitors.
Documenta: Kassel, Germany Sept 2017
Sept 2-3, 2017
The quest wasn’t that difficult: All I wanted was a Documenta 14 tote bag.
Documenta 14, entitled “Learning from Athens”, purported to be an iteration of the event looking outward from the self-proclaimed “center” of Europe to better understand cross-cultural dialogues from the southern reaches of that continent, but let’s be honest: We all know visitors come to get the merch they can don for years to come, and right now – pivotal artworks aside – this component eluded me.
First I wandered into a Documenta shop perched by the Palais Bellevue and Neue Galerie, but only books were available for purchase here. The attendant then directed me back to the main store location near the Marta Minujin Parthenon of Books (featuring banned books) at Freidrichplatz, so off I went, with 45 minutes left to go. The good news was that panoramic views of the Orangerie awaited me along the walk: a beautiful property with expansive garden located in an older section of Kassel luckily preserved from development or destruction during various periods in the city’s history.
I had (as usual) gotten a late start for the day, arriving to enjoy Documenta in the afternoon. After a bit of a wait the visit to Documenta commenced at the Neue Galerie, a space for art from various historical periods to mingle together, alternately comfortably and acrimoniously. An example of the former is Pope L.’s omnipresent Whispering Campaign in which various musings are muttered at low tones, permeating the exhibition with an air of expectant anxiety. Vija Celmins’ Night Sky works, recently on view in Manhattan at the Chelsea-based Matthew Marks gallery, re-appear here in the context of Documenta 14. Italian artist Maria Lai, a hit at this year’s Venice Biennale, also makes an appearance. In fact, a valid criticism of Documenta is the amount of overlap it shares with its Venetian neighbor as multiple artists appear here who are also visible at the Christine Macel-led Biennale.
Another standout at the Neue Galerie was Nilima Sheikh’s Terrain: Carrying Across, Leaving Behind. The Indian artist creates a hybrid form of landscape and figurative paintings over a free-standing, multi-paneled installation, creating a narrative of a girl pursuing her fate – ruminating on various lived histories, past and present, and the dangers and necessities of migration. Lorenza Boettner’s work also stood out: Lorenza was a woman born as a man who later transitioned, after suffering electric shocks in her childhood which resulted in the loss of both arms. She became famous for her role in the San Francisco scene and as an avid traveler, and she was a crucial member of the Disabled Artists Network and a staunch advocate for freedom of self-expression internationally.
Pipe Apartments installation near Documenta Halle at Documenta 14
After the Neue Galerie, it was on for a brief traipse past the intriguing Pipe Apartments’ installation before a walkthrough at the disappointing documenta Halle before touring the inspiring Fredericianium, sporting the entry disclaimer “BEING SAFE IS SCARY” by Turkish artist Banu Cennetoğlu. The Fredericianium was easily both the most meaningful and most social media-ready site at this year’s documenta, pleasing every art collector and their Snapchat-obsessed niece. Kimsooja’s Bottari installations spanned different galleries in the exhibition hall, with elements of movement and migration, while Lucas Samaras’ Hebraic Embrace echoed similar reflection themes present in the Arsenale in Venice (again). Danny Matthys created an impressive photocollage with Brabantdam 59, Gent, Downstairs-Upstairs (1975). Stelios Faitakis’ impressive Orthodox Christian icon-inspired Fortunately absurdity is lost (but they have hoped for much more) (2014) merges the contemporary and the past in protest-filled imagery worthy of a present-day Rivera while the second floor yielded gems such as Walid Raad’s No, Illness is Neither Here nor There and Adam Broomberg and Oliver Chanarin’s The Prestige of Terror (2010).
Stelios Faitakis: Fortunately absurdity is lost but they have hoped for much more, from Documenta 14
After all that, a final walkthrough at Minujin’s banned book Parthenon led me to the main shop, where there was – alas – no documenta Tote bag, only a flimsy gym-style backpack available.
I opted for a gelato instead to drown my consumerist urges in sugary bliss.
A Good Neighbor: Istanbul Biennale 2017: Istanbul, Turkey
Sept 18-21, 2017
The tour-de-force of this year’s art extravaganzas was the Istanbul biennale, an event managing to be both relevant and bewitching. The intimate scale of the venues – only six in total, all within (mostly) walking distance surrounding Istanbul’s Old City and Beyoglu neighborhoods – the exhibitions managed a subtle and complex look at contemporary identities in a global context. Not that the fascinating art on view made the hills any shorter or sporadic rain any less obnoxious. The Biennale, curated by artist duo Elmgreen + Dragset – the first hybrid artist/curators of the exhibition – succeeded most at venues such as the Istanbul Modern, Galata Greek Primary School and the Pera Museum, and definitely excelled at the Kusuk Mustafa Pasha Hammam with its layered histories.
Volkan Aslan: Home Sweet, from the 2017 Istanbul Biennale
After navigating steep hills and even more forbidding traffic jams, we arrived at the Istanbul Modern: A construction site housing a quaint museum where a main hub of the Istanbul Biennale was held. Here were such standouts as Lydia Ourahmane’s All the way up to the Heavens and down to the depths of Hell (2017) and Volkan Aslan’s Home Sweet Home (2017), two reflections on the politics of ownership and property (or lack thereof). The Modern is situated along the waterfront but does not access it, a feat which only serves to reinforce a sense of alienation from the natural environment.
Next it was a trip to the Pera Museum, situated near a main shopping street in the posh Beyoglu area. Here was an installation of small homes created from the memory of artist Andra Ursuta, and in an adjoining room, artist Vajiko Chachkhiani’s entrancing Life Track (2015) video. The stares of the video’s protagonist give pause to how neighbors should behave, and whether the Rear Window phenomenon can prove to be menacing more than it is amusing. The museum itself held historical colonial underpinnings which reverberated through works such as Fred Wilson’s African Kismet, remarking on the history of African immigrants in the Ottoman Empire and the role these citizens have played in Turkey’s evolution. A stunning installation offering an alternative perspective on Turkish society, Wilson’s installation is a star of the show. Meanwhile, Tatiana Trouve’s installation The Great Atlas of Disorientation asks how much we can ever truly know about the places we venture in the world. The nearly Galata Greek primary school furnished opportunities to encounter artist Mark Dion’s stimulating look at aquatic flora and fauna, The Resilient Marine Life of Istanbul (2017) and The Persistent Weeds of Istanbul (2017), along the maze of various entry points of various scales in Leander Schoenweger’s Our Family Lost (2017), were obvious standouts. The view from the top floor near the maze was breathtaking across the Bosphorus.
Leandro Schoenwegers: Out Family Lost, from the 2017 Istanbul Biennale
Finally, after watching the amused faces of residents in the Sultanahmet neighborhood trace my steps back and forth across a desolate alleyway one kind soul took pity on me and walked me to the Kusuk Mustafa Pasha Hammam housing monumental scale artworks by Monica Bonvincini and Stephen G. Rhodes. Bonvincini’s abstracted female body parts in an architectural-scale photo collage filled the male portion of the Hammam’s larger area while a smaller but still imposing sculptural element encircled with leather belts was situated in the adjacent space. In the female wing of the Hammam lay Paul’s installation, Wilkommen Assumption: Or the Private Propertylessness and Pals (2017). The dystopian dreamworlds of destruction wrought areas, including this author’s own South Louisiana homeland post-Katrina, offered a spectre of times to come when we are living in a world dominated by global warming.
Monica Bonvincini: Hammam installation at the 2017 Istanbul Biennale
Istanbul is a welcoming city yet a locale that is difficult to unmask, and the Istanbul Biennale reflects this penchant for warmth masking inscrutability. Many more days were needed to untangle the mysteries latent in these exhibitions, but for the time being I was happy to sit and ruminate over all I had seen while I pursued the horizon on the Asian side of Istanbul, embarking for distant shores and a harbinger of further-flung regions yet to be uncovered.
