Another exhibition i just saw in Berlin is Comes with the Territory at Charim Ungar Contemporary (CUC). Don't run to the gallery just yet, the show closed on Saturday.
The exhibition brought together Israeli artists who explore the daily struggle to define and stretch the boundaries of the territory. Obviously, the word 'territory' in Israel comes with tense references to occupied stretches of land such as the ones in the West Bank and the Gaza strip. The term also evokes Israeli settlements on Palestinian land, check points, separation walls, disputed borders, forced evictions, etc. The artists in the exhibition, however, approach territory in a more private context. Comes with the Territory featured the works of Rotem Balva, Raafat Hattab, Gaston Zvi Ickowicz, Joshua Neustein, Nira Pereg and Roi Vaspi-Yanai. Subjective selection of works:
The work i noticed as soon as i entered the CUC gallery was one of the photos from the Settlements series that Gaston Zvi Ickowicz">Gaston Zvi Ickowicz shot in the West Bank and the Gaza strip between 2003 and 2006. His photographs centre on the architecture of the settlements, portraits of the settlers, fences and road-blocks, and examine their relationship with the landscape. Ickowicz's photographs reveal the character of the buildings, whose future as ruins is marked upon them from the moment of their construction.
Joshua Neustein was among the first Israeli artists to question issues of territorial displacement and militarism in his performances, sound pieces and installation. In 1976, Neustein began his Territorial Imperative actions in areas at the heart of boundary dispute. He first visited the Golan Heights (that Israel annexed from Syria and that remains the bone of contention between the two people) in 1976; then he went to Belfast, Northern Ireland in 1977; Kassel, East/West border of Germany in 1977; and Krusa, German/Danish border in 1978. He was accompanied by a male dog that urinated on the land at each site. Neustein created a series of posters with a photo of the animal urinating and the words "Territorial Imperative" stamped across it. The artist then created a map of the area which showed the territory marked by the dog next to the political territory marked by nations.
Nira Pereg's Kept Alive (literal translation from hebrew) refers to texts engraved upon headstones to reserve pre-purchased burial spots.
The photos document burial rituals in Jerusalem's Har HaMenuchot. Because of its 'prime' location in the holy city, the cemetery has become a very lucrative burial ground and its graves are spilling over. Pereg's photos record empty burial plots saved in advanced for those who are still alive yet wish to occupy a spot there when time has come. Pereg was particularly interested in pairs of graves for spouses wishing to reserve adjacent burial spots. The signs on the grave say "Kept, Alive" or "Reserved while still living." The 'booked' grave has not only become a status symbol, like a much coveted real estate but it also works as a superstitious 'insurance' of a longer life.
In 2009 writer and filmmaker Arnold van Bruggen and photographer Rob Hornstra embarked on the Sochi Project, a five year enterprise to map out the area of and around Sochi (Krasnodar Krai, Russia), a small city on the Black Sea that will host the 2014 Winter Olympics. The duo will document the changes the city undergoes while it is getting ready for the Olympics.
The choice of this location is surprising, to say the least. This subtropical coastal area has exceptionally mild winters by Russian standards (average 11 °C (52 °F) during the day and 4 °C (39 °F) at night in the period from December to March). Besides, it lacks any kind of facilities and infrastructure to host the event.
The choice is not just surprising it is also extremely controversial. Greenpeace Russia is particularly worried about the environmental impact of the construction work inside a national park. To top it all, the Games are going to take place in Russia's most unstable region. A few hundred kilometres away are the breakaway republics Chechnya, Ingushetia and Dagestan. And just a few kilometres away is Abkhazia.
An exhibition titled Mutations III, currently on view at the Berlinische Galerie, shows one of the first chapters of The Sochi Project And in particular a newspaper-cum-exhibition presenting life in Krasny Vostok. The village is barely 200 kilometres away from Sochi, but it appears to still have one foot in the 19th century, still partially without gas and electricity.
A village like so many in Russia. Where the population is dwindling; where industry and activity are disappearing; where a handful of people are attempting to prevent the decline; where Moscow's politics trickle through slowly; where every day is a struggle to keep the village hanging on. Only when you are familiar with this kind of village, we believe, can you get to know this region better.
The series about Krasny Vostok is called On the Other Side of the Mountain, you can view more photos online.
Because Hornsta and van Bruggen believe that the Games themselves, and all the area surrounding Sochi deserve a sustained and in-depth coverage, the pair request donations from the public for the crowdfunding of a project whose scale is impossible for the mass media. They call it slow journalism. Please support their project by donating.
Photo on the homepage: Matsesta, RUSSIA, 2009 - Dima has burns on his legs. He is being treated with sulfide-chloride-sodium water in the healing complex of the Matsesta spa. Image credit: Rob Hornstra
Landed in Berlin yesterday, almost lost the will to live when i understood that the cold wind which welcomed me with a slap in the face would be my companion for the rest of the week and started running around the city to find solace in art galleries. While i'm trying to put a simulacra of order in the photos and paper press materials i collected, here's a one-photo peak at what i've seen today:
Talk to you soon...
Publisher Hatje Cantz Verlag writes: Cavalry captain and riding games, Coziness Colony, Mariendorf trotting professionals, Zehlendorf glazes, boarding in Eden House, Erich Mielke's house plant, hurdy-gurdy man and curry sausages on Alex, Neverland in Plänterwald, prêt-à-porter in Wedding, Dad's old basement party room, Clärchen's Knallhaus, massages with happy end, Kreuzberg bunker beans, Leydicke's bitter orange schnaps, fetish in Spandau, Paradox Ball at Cafe Keese, Kreuzberg nights, KaDeWe and caviar. All of these new and unusual motifs-and more-in the idiosyncratic language of photographers Benjamin Tafel (*1977) and Dennis Orel (*1978), with authentic commentary and observations on location all around the capital of Germany.
Nothing makes me happier than a new stack of books for review landing on my doorstep:
I think we've established by now that everyone loves Berlin. Berliner Luft will make you love it even more.
Although the book is first and foremost a photography book, whispers, snippets of conversations between tourists, anecdotes, scenes, accompany the images and capture the spirit of the city better than any guide could ever do.
In East Berlin, prisoners on their way to the detention center of the Ministry for State Security were secretly transported on a delivery truck marked with the words "fresh fish." The shadow of East Berlin is everywhere, even in potted plants.
The book presents people and places, architecture, moods, clichés and secrets. Berliner Luft skips the hipsters, fancy fashion showrooms and international art galleries. The focus is rather on the decadent, peerless Berlin that smells of curry sausages, dances the discofox in the afternoon, hears the muezzin call from the tarmac of Tempelhof airport (R.I.P.), and parties in bleak former power stations.
I'm quite amazed at the number of fetish clubs that the authors have visited btw. Should you wish to drop by any of them, Tafel and Orel provide the precise address of each bar, abandoned radar station, Russian delicatessen, Imbiss, S&M joint, or park they have photographed.
GaMe!, a group exhibition you can check out until March 24 at the [DAM] gallery in Berlin, presents positions by six international artists on the subject of computer games and electronic toys.
The show is rather small but it covers a surprisingly large spectrum of game art practices. More importantly, GaMe! is one of those rare exhibitions about game art which favours the artistic approach over the more accessible attractions of playfulness and interactivity.
You'll understand immediately my point when i tell you that one of the games on show is all about mania, melancholia, and the creative process. The unassuming 8-bit graphics and very straightforward gameplay of Jason Rohrer's Gravitation offers a striking contrast to the poignant challenge that the player has to face: find the right balance -if there's one- between family life and creative achievement.
In order to get the stars (your own projects to develop) from the sky, you have to play ball with your kid to expand your view of a screen (aka the outside world) which is mostly dark at the beginning of the game. The higher you can jump, the more you get to discover the screen/outside world. The music closely adapts to your choices. Becoming either more cheerful as your vision of the world expands or colder as it shrinks back to black. As destructoid explains: Grabbing a star causes it to fall back to your home area (home life), where it becomes a difficult-to-move stone with a timer on it. Pushing a star stone into a fireplace earns you the amount of points still remaining on the stone (the quality of an idea deteriorates over time). Getting more than one star at once causes the star stones to build up, separating you from your son, whom you ironically need to play with in order to get more stars. Ultimately, the game shows that pursuing creative exploits both requires and alienates the people you love. Conversely, dedicating all your attention to your child means that your creative fervor will burn out. The morale of the story hurts but the work -which btw is autobiographical- was a great discovery for me.
Gravitation is available as a free download.
The player (or players) controls organ hunters aboard a helicopter with the goal to harvest a number of hearts, lungs, livers, kidneys, pancreata, and intestines. The organs don't just lie around for you. You have to kill their owner first from the helicopter. When you've massacred enough people, you jump in parachute and start to open the corpses and remove the organs you need to complete your list of vital body parts. While keeping tabs on the helicopter. The Thrill of Combat is heartless, cynical, and submersed into a seducing block-coloured urban landscape.
I was more familiar with the work of the other artists invited to participate to the show:
GaMe! is open until March 24 at the [DAM] gallery in Berlin.
Here's something for your eyes to munch on if you're Berlin bound this month:
Armin Linke's Future Archaeologies photographs explore how some contemporary places and building structures can be regarded as 'archaeologies of the future', modern artefacts subject to slow-fading decay. This snapshot of a progress that never took the road it was supposed to follow triggers the question: 'How long will it be before our own idea of modernity gets stranded in a dead end?'
An exhibition particularly interesting to visit in the light of last week's Transmediale conference whose theme was "Futurity Now".
To visit the gallery you have to climb up the first floor, the stairs have that pleasant and old fashioned smell of wax and spicy perfume for gentlemen. Open the door to the luminous white gallery and meet...
a display of tired stuffed apes at the Zoological Museum in Florence,
the interior of the MIR space-station simulator in Moscow,
a modernist monument in Kosturnica, Macedonia,
a bedsheet acting as a cinema screen in a village somewhere in China,
the illegal Israeli settlement Har Homa in the West Bank,
"These are real Science Fiction scenarios, constructed man-made utopias, hurling their absurdities at the viewer," says the press release for the show. The most literal example comes from the Shrine of the Book, a wing of The Israel Museum in Jerusalem. Built in the '50s, its dome looks like the ideal set for science fiction movies.
Linke's photographs poetically document globalization effects and complex interrelations of the idea of modernity with inherent structures of violence and colonialism.
The gallery also screens a video in 3D. Nuclear Voyage travels inside inactive nuclear power stations and waste sites. The slow and ordinary gestures that the last people working there perform are at odds with the James Bond-like world of wonder that nuclear used to embody.
The choice of filming and screening using 3-D technology nails the idea even further. The 3D aesthetics and the god-awful glasses one has to wear to follow the movie offer an ironic comment on the renewed hype regarding spatial viewing of images (i just read that LG predicts that 30 million people will buy 3-D TV sets by 2012), the spectacle of which had already been celebrated as photography's great promise in the 19th century with the advent of stereoscopy.
Future Archaeologies runs at the at Klosterfelde Gallery in Berlin until March 6, 2010.