Critic’s Guide: Cologne – 评论家指南:Cologne

Critic's Guide - 17 Apr 2018

Critic’s Guide: Cologne

Ahead of the 52nd edition of Art Cologne, your guide to the best shows to see in the city

By Harry Thorne

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Critic’s Guide: Cologne - 评论家指南:Cologne

Ana Jotta, ‘DAS – IST – DAS ?’, 2018, invitation card. Courtesy: the artist and Temporary Gallery, Cologne

Ana Jotta
Temporary Gallery
22 April – 29 July

To grasp Ana Jotta’s work is to hold water in your hands. Momentarily, it remains, pooled and perceptible, only to seep through the cracks in your fingers and depart once and forever. Fleets of decorative projection screens morph into Philip Guston facscimiles; becoming embracing cartoons which give way to clusters of candles, curled as if huddling for warmth. Jotta’s work is a continuous extrapolation of a life – illustrated by her 2014 book Footnotes – which collects and displays the manifold objects and paraphernalia that the Portuguese artist has collected over the years. These forms are not assembled to satisfy a nostalgic impulse – the majority are discarded once documented – but are instead incorporated into a personal map that is continuous, ever-changing, always-curious.

The heartbeat of Jotta’s exhibition at Temporary Gallery is fala-só, a 40-metre roll of blue fabric worked on by the artist between 2014 and 2017.  It repeats, over and over again, the outline of a single glazier who she recalls from her childhood in Lisbon. The tapestry is a working through of an idea, a wandering through of a memory; not the output of an artist attempting to resolve or reconcile, but simply entertain, over and over again. Accordingly, fala-só is an outdated Portuguese term meaning ‘soliloquy’.

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Critic’s Guide: Cologne - 评论家指南:Cologne

Catharine Czudej, Ballpolisher (detail), 2017, installation view, Jeffrey Stark, New York. Courtesy: the artist and Ginerva Gambino, Cologne

Catharine Czudej
Ginerva Gambino
14 April – 9 June

In the text accompanying Catharine Czudej’s exhibition ‘Not books’, we meet John Barioni. John is a Californian with a goatee and an immovable trucker cap. John likes playing pool. He has a table in his basement; he runs a company called Barioni Cues. John is also a prolific YouTuber, who you might recognize from such hits as ‘OB SHAFT DISSECTION- STEP BY STEP’ (31,831 views) and ‘HOW TO MAKE A POOL TABLE BALL POLISHER’ (258,708). In this regard, the text notes, John is ‘the prototypical DIY-guy on YouTube’. For the lowest prices, he offers, to quote his website: ‘the highest quality products with out standing [sic] performance.’

DIY is the kernel of Czudej’s exhibition, or rather: the manner in which ‘making home’ is predominantly seen as a masculine operation, while ‘home-making’ is more readily viewed as a feminine activity. The former comes with tools, toil and an expectation of economic reward; the latter is bound up with ideas of consumption, motherhood and care. The press release quotes from Juliana Mansvelt’s Geographies of Consumption (2005): ‘male control of the physical environment’, expressed via exertions of pre-industrial labour, conjures a false impression of male dominance. In ‘Not books’, a show comprising, amongst other things, paintings, sculptures and modified mouse-traps, Czudej reclaims this right to ‘do it yourself’ as a genderless realm. One where you can make, if so inclined, a collection of home-made ball polishers. (Czudej has done just that.)

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Critic’s Guide: Cologne - 评论家指南:Cologne

Haegue Yang, Mountains of Encounter, 2008, aluminium blinds, powder-coated aluminium suspension, steel cable, movable headlamps, floodlights, cables, dimensions variable, installation view, Museum Ludwig, Cologne, 2018. Courtesy: © Haegue Yang; photograph: Museum Ludwig, Cologne / Saša Fuis

Haegue Yang
Museum Ludwig
18 April – 12 August

‘Historical narratives overlap with personal ones in the most unlikely of ways.’ These words belong to Haegue Yang, whose recent ‘Influences’ piece for frieze ebbed through the various bygone tales that inform her multivalent practice, from the musical compositions of Isang Yun to the families who were left estranged following the Korean oil crisis of 1971. In Yang’s work, such stories breathe through ovoid assemblages of bells mounted on wheels, towering installations of Venetian blinds and dense tufts of artificial straw – woven, plaited and draped. These are structures that, like their narrative forebears, are settled but forever in flux; stable but retaining the ability to move – or be moved by another. Thus, when Yang writes of the effects of Korea’s fractious history upon its infrastructure, she could be talking of her own practice: ‘regions are unexpectedly connected yet remain disconnected’. In these sculptures, divergent tales are momentarily reunited, all the while refusing the temptation to declare themselves fused. This abstraction of the actual should not be misconstrued as a yearning for the closure, but rather a running ‘leap into a dimension that cannot otherwise be understood’. It is one that, as is hinted at by the title of Yang’s vast survey at Museum Ludwig, ‘ETA 1994 – 2018’, will always be travelling, but will never touch down. 

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Critic’s Guide: Cologne - 评论家指南:Cologne

Alex Da Corte, 'THE SUPƎRMAN', 2018, installation view, Kölnischer Kunstverein. Courtesy: the artist and Kölnischer Kunstverein; photograph: Simon Vogel

Alex Da Corte
Kölnischer Kunstverein
20 April – 17 June

Alex Da Corte’s installations are what your parents imagine acid might be. Rooms are plunged into deep purple hues; vibrant neon crowns glare from smoky enclaves. Adidas Superstar trainers sit deconstructed, unlaced and five-feet tall; a vast, wailing baby floats above an art fair (its title: Free Money, 2016). For his exhibition at Kölnischer Kunstverein, ‘THE SUPƎRMAN’, Da Corte revives a many-faced character from his 2017 show at Josh Lilley, London: Eminem (a.k.a. Slim Shady; a.k.a. Marshall Mathers; a.k.a. B-Rabbit; a.k.a. a rapper who, we can all agree, should have called it a day in 2004). In the institution’s central hall, Da Corte will erect a large-scale stage on which to examine, via imitation, four iterations of the Detroit-born star – as pop-cultural icon; as social phenomenon; as a brand so sensationally vast that in 2017 the word ‘stan’ was added to the Oxford English Dictionary, its definition, in accordance with Eminem’s song of the same name: ‘an overzealous or obsessive fan of a particular celebrity’. Through this act, this invocation, this embodiment, which at Josh Lilley played out across three dystopian videos, Da Corte wants to assess another wild act of imitation: ‘[I want] to understand the character that he portrayed, the Slim Shady character, and try to understand and empathize with who that heteronormative, middle class white male is.’

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Critic’s Guide: Cologne - 评论家指南:Cologne

Tobias Spichtig, ‘Long Stories’, 2018, installation view, Jan Kaps, Cologne. Courtesy: the artist and Jan Kaps, Cologne; photograph: Tobias Spichtig 

Tobias Spichtig
Jan Kaps
17 April – 26 May

Tobias Spichtig makes visible what it is to be left behind. Rooms are crowded with unwanted fridges; sticky, glazed garments stand erect and bereft of host bodies; mattresses stretch from walls to confronting walls, their sheets grime-clad and sullied from use. These are, perhaps, the memories that we cannot help but have, but can never come to cherish; the rusty, long-since discarded stage-sets within which we have rehearsed, refined and, ultimately, performed the narratives that we actually hold dear. A 2016 sculpture takes the title LET IT ALONE, THOU FOOL; IT IS BUT TRASH. In Spichtig’s work, this exorcism can never take place. ‘Long Stories’, the Swiss artist’s latest exhibition at Jan Kaps, comes accompanied by a fictional tale, written by Theresa Patzschke, which speaks of love, loss and mundanity, and the seemingly innocuous decisions that lead us to each. The final line reads: ‘You walk into the dark forest with small, deep blue flowers.’ There, the sweet, sensuous details that enrich our happiest memories. In an accompanying image, we find the trodden crud that we can’t seem to shake: an exhausted sofa, its pillows muddy brown and unmanned.

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Critic’s Guide: Cologne - 评论家指南:Cologne

Andreas Maus, Kaiser Wilhelm II. Bei der Rede zum Ausbruch des ersten Weltkrieges (Kaiser Wilhelm II. At his speech on the outbreak of the First World War), 2018, ink on paper, 42 x 30 cm. Courtesy: Rob Tufnell, Cologne/ London; photograph: Mareike Tocha

Andreas Maus
Rob Tufnell
5 April – 28 April

We have a tendency to believe that things change – an unfortunate byproduct of our desperate craving for ‘progression’ and ‘meaning’. It is, of course, a naïve impulse: flatten time, flatten context, and you will find that little but homogeny remains – of violence, vibrancy, faith and all the raw banality that mopes between. Andreas Maus carries out such a levelling. His drawings tempt in a wide range of settings and scenarios: a bulbous Kaiser Wilhelm II berates at the outbreak of World War I; a circus trainer is mauled by a big cat; an AfD henchman sees a chainsaw rip through his crown; Donald Trump flees an expiating wall of flames. But thanks to a uniting medium (biro), colour scheme (red, blue, black, green) and technique (near-obsessive circular marks), these disparate scenes appear as consecutive stills from the same narrative strip. Maus visually flattens the contexts and time-frames and, in doing so, illustrates how the various small tragedies of our current era are little but repetitions of those which have come before. Approached from one angle, the reading is bleak; terrors are frequent, in spite of them frequently being declared dead. Approached from another, the outlook is brighter: the many maladies of the contemporary ages can, ultimately, be felled, as they have been so many times before.

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Critic’s Guide: Cologne - 评论家指南:Cologne

The Night Climbers of Cambridge (Untitled), 1930s, vintage print, 14 x 9 cm. Courtesy: Delmes & Zander, Cologne 

The Night Climbers of Cambridge
Delmes & Zander
17 April – 31 May

In 1937, an author working under the ludicrous mononym ‘Whipplesnaith’ published The Night Climbers of Cambridge with Chatto & Windus, a photobook documenting the nocturnal exploits of Cambridge university students. In a series of gritty, monochrome plates, a set of which will be on view at Delmes & Zander during Art Cologne, groups of young, white, probably wealthy (almost definitely drunk) men vault over buttresses, shimmy between drainpipes, stand proudly atop distant nave roofs. On the risk involved in such daring acts of institutional critique, dear ‘Whipplesnaith’ (real name, hilariously: Noël Howard Symington) was defiant: ‘If you slip, you will still have three seconds to live.’

As images, and images alone, the series is equal parts beautiful and entertaining: photographs of human feats will always be engaging, as will visual evidence of those able to exploit the gaps between imposed sanctions (physical or otherwise). But there is something tragically funny about the project as a whole. Here, in the 1930s, shortly after the Great Depression buckled Britain’s industry and plunged the nation into a suffocating period of mass unemployment, we have the cream of the privileged class flexing their rebellious muscles in the most ludicrous of ways; asserting their right to civil disobedience from the roof of St John’s College Chapel and then anonymously publishing their acts of sin for fear of academic retribution. Give ’em hell, kids …

For more shows to see in Cologne head over to On View.

Main image: Haegue Yang, Knotty Spell in Windy Acoustical Gradation (detail), 2017, mixed media, 195 x 88 x 88 cm. Courtesy: Galerie Barbara Wien, Berlin © Haegue Yang, photograph: Ketty Bertossi

Harry Thorne

Harry Thorne is assistant editor of frieze and a contributing editor of The White Review. He is based in Berlin, Germany.

Critic's Guide
Cologne
Harry Thorne
Temporary Gallery
Ginerva Gambino
Gesellschaft für Moderne Kunst
Museum Ludwig
Kolnischer Kunstverein
Jan Kaps
Rob Tufnell
Delmes & Zander


评论家和第039章指南17 APR 2018评论家指南:科隆在艺术古龙的第五十二版之前,你的最佳节目在Harry Thorne JoTaTaKARTTE.JPG的指南WPA6021602IMG Ana Jotta,'DAS-IST-DAS?2018张请柬。礼貌:艺术家和临时画廊,科隆ANA JOTA WPA60300 3BR临时画廊WPAP60300 3BR 4月22日至7月29日掌握Ana Jotta的工作是在你手中的水。暂时地,它仍然是,汇集和可察觉的,只是渗入你的手指裂缝和永远离开。一队装饰性的投影屏幕变成了Philip Guston的脸谱,变成了一张卡通图案,它们被放在一簇蜡烛上,蜷缩成一团,好像是为了温暖而蜷缩起来。Jotta的作品是对《生活》的连续外推法,由她的2014本书《脚注》所示,它收集并展示了葡萄牙艺术家多年来收集的各种物体和随身物品。这些表格并不是为了满足怀旧的冲动——大多数人在被记录下来后就被丢弃了,但是它们被合并成一个连续不断变化的个人地图,总是充满好奇。Jotta的展览在临时画廊的心跳是法拉S,这是一幅由2014到2017年间由艺术家创作的40米的蓝色织物。它一遍又一遍地重复着她童年时代在Lisbon回忆起的一位单身贵族的轮廓。挂毯是一种思想的传递,是一种记忆的游荡;不是艺术家试图解决或调和,而是简单地娱乐,一次又一次的输出。因此,法拉S是一个过时的葡萄牙语术语,意思是“独白”。GalvavaGangiNo.CasuDjj-BalPulsHiela安装SaaSyji-Jffry-Starkx Neo Yyky2017详细详述JPG Critic’s Guide: Cologne - 评论家指南:Cologne CasARIN CZUDEJ,抛光机(细节),2017,安装视图,杰夫瑞Stark,纽约。礼貌:艺术家和加尼瓦甘比诺,科隆凯瑟琳CZUDEJ WPAP60300 3BR GrimVa GabiNo WPA60300 3BR 4月14日-6月9日在文本伴随着Catharine Czudej的展览“不是书”,我们遇见John Barioni。约翰是一个加利福尼亚人,山羊胡子和不动的卡车司机帽。约翰喜欢玩游泳池。他有一张地下室的桌子,他经营着一家名为BaRiNi线索的公司。约翰也是一个多产的Youtubor,你可以从“OB轴解剖——一步一步”(31831视图)和“如何制作一个台球抛光机”(258708)。在这方面,文本指出,约翰是“Youtube上的典型DIY家伙”。对于最低的价格,他引用了他的网站:“具有最高质量的产品,具有与众不同的性能。”DIY是Czudej展览的核心,或者更确切地说:“自制”的方式主要被视为男性操作,而“自制”则是MOR。很容易被视为女性活动。前者伴随着工具、辛劳和对经济回报的期望,后者与消费、母性和关怀的观念相联系。Juliana Mansvelt的《消费地理》(2005)的新闻稿引述:“男性对物理环境的控制”,通过劳动前劳动的表现来表现出对男性优势的错误印象。在《非书本》中,Czudej的作品包括绘画、雕塑和改良的捕鼠器等。如果你愿意的话,你可以制作一套自制的球抛光机。(Czudej做了这件事)HyySalthsMLQual.JPG WPA60260602IMG Haegue Yang,山峰遭遇,2008,铝百叶窗,粉末涂层铝悬挂,钢缆,可移动前照灯,泛光灯,电缆,尺寸可变,安装视图,路德维希博物馆,Cologne,2018。礼貌:Haegue Yang,照片:博物馆路德维希,科隆/萨斯阿福斯HEGEUE WPAP60300 3BR博物馆路德维希WPA60300 3BR 4月18日-8月12日的历史叙述与个人的最不可能的方式重叠。Isang Yun的音乐作品从1971的韩国石油危机中被遗弃的家庭中,T的“影响”的片段通过各种各样的往事流传下来。在杨的作品中,这样的故事通过安装在轮子上的钟形卵石、高耸的威尼斯百叶窗装置和密集的人造稻草丛生物编织而成。这些结构与他们的叙事祖先一样,是固定的,但永远是流动的;稳定的,但保持移动的能力,或者被另一个移动。因此,当杨写下韩国棘手的历史对其基础设施的影响时,她可能会说她自己的做法:“地区是意外连接,但仍然断开”。在这些雕塑中,发散的故事瞬间团聚,同时拒绝诱惑,宣称自己融合了。这种对现实的抽象不应被误解为对封闭的渴望,而应该是一种奔跑,进入一个无法被理解的维度。正如杨在博物馆路德维希的大调查中所暗示的那样,“ETA 1994—2018”将永远是旅行,但永远不会被触动。TE,“Sup'Rrman”,2018,安装视图,K-LNISCHER KunestRuin。礼貌:艺术家和K.L.NNISHER KunStistin;照片:西蒙沃格尔亚历克斯DaCORTEWPA60300 3BR KOL LNISCHER KunSTVILIN WPA60300 3BR 4月20日-6月17日Alex Da Corte的安装是你父母想象的酸可能。房间沉浸在深紫色的色彩中,充满活力的霓虹灯从烟雾缭绕的飞地中闪耀。阿迪达斯超级明星教练坐在解构,解开和五英尺高;一个巨大的,哭哭啼啼的婴儿漂浮在一个艺术博览会(其标题:免费货币,2016)。在K'LnsiChe KunsTrestin的展览中,Da Corte在伦敦乔什利利的2017场演出中复活了一位多面手角色:埃米纳姆(A.K.S.M. Shandi.;A.K.马歇尔.马瑟斯;A.K.B.兔子;A.K.A.说唱歌手,我们都同意,应该在2004称它为一天)。在该机构的中央大厅,Da Corte将搭建一个大规模的舞台,通过模仿,底特律出生的明星的四次迭代——作为流行文化偶像;作为社会现象;作为一个如此巨大的品牌,在2017,“斯坦”这个词被添加到牛津英语中。字典,其定义,根据埃米纳姆的同名歌曲:“一个过分狂热或痴迷的一个特定的名人”。通过这一动作,这个调用,在Joh LILLY在三个反乌托邦视频中播放,Da Corte想要评估另一个疯狂的模仿行为:“我想要理解他所描绘的人物,苗条的阴暗角色,并试图理解和同情WH。O,这是一个非常有代表性的中产阶级白人男性。“ToBias-SPIKITG-JAN-KAPS长故事-2018JPG Critic’s Guide: Cologne - 评论家指南:Cologne Tobias Spichtig,'长故事',2018,安装视图,Jan Kaps,Cologne。礼貌:艺术家和Jan Kaps,Cologne;照片:托拜厄斯SPICTIG托拜厄斯托拜厄斯SPICTIG WPAP60300 3BR JAKAPS WPAP60300 3BR 4月17日-5月26日Tobias Spichtig看到什么是被留下。房间里挤满了不需要的冰箱;粘的、釉面的衣服竖立着,失去了主人的身体;床垫从墙壁伸展到墙面,用纸被包得脏兮兮的,脏兮兮的。这些也许是我们无法拥有但却永远不会珍惜的记忆;生锈的、早已废弃的舞台布景,在其中我们排练、提炼并最终完成了我们实际上珍视的叙述。一个2016雕塑的标题,让它单独,傻瓜,它只是垃圾。在Spichtig的作品中,这种驱魔行为是不可能发生的。《长篇小说》是瑞士艺术家在简·卡普斯的最新展览,伴随着一个虚构的故事,由Theresa Patzschke写的,讲述了爱、失落和平凡,以及看似无伤大雅的决定,引领我们走向每一个。最后一行写着:“你走进黑暗的森林,带着小小的深蓝色的花朵。”那里,丰富而感性的细节丰富了我们最美好的回忆。在伴随的图像中,我们发现了我们似乎不能摇晃的脚步声:一个疲惫的沙发,它的枕头是泥泞的棕色和无人驾驶的。Maun-Kaer-er-WielHel-Web.JPG Critic’s Guide: Cologne - 评论家指南:Cologne Andreas Maus,Kaiser Wilhelm II。(Kaiser Wilhelm II)在他第一次世界大战爆发的演讲中,2018,纸上的墨水,42×30厘米。礼貌:Rob Tufnell,Cologne /伦敦;照片:MaRiktotoa安德烈亚斯MoupWP60603BRB TuffnelWPA60300 3BR 4月5日-4月28日我们倾向于相信事情发生改变-一个不幸的副产品,我们迫切渴望“进展”和“意义”。当然,这是一种天真的冲动:平息时间,平息语境,你会发现,暴力、活力、信仰和所有的粗俗之间都有一些小而同质的东西。Andreas Maus执行这样的水准。他的画作吸引了各种各样的场景和场景:在第一次世界大战爆发时,一个球状的凯瑟尔·威廉二世在咆哮;一个马戏团训练师被一只大猫咬伤了;一个AFD的人看见一把链锯撕破了他的王冠;唐纳德·特朗普逃离了一道燃烧着的火焰墙。但由于一个统一的媒介(BILO),色彩方案(红、蓝、黑、绿)和技术(近乎强迫的圆形标记),这些不同的场景


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