Saturday, 30 May 2009


030 Magazin

Answers... (5)

... from Nicolas Leus.
1. For me, it's a good exhibition. I mean: it's the best exhibition possible with this variety of artists and works. Due to the specific circomstances it has become a real group exhibition, which is not so common... A lot of group exhibitions neglect the group-aspect by presenting their 'private' corners, which is also a concept, but not the official one presented in the texts that support most of those exhibitions. Which curator would have chosen these artists when he/she was not interested in the extreme diversity and the experiment of their working together? Now, the dealing with the heavenly blue structure (and with the works of Tamara and Iris) gave us something in common. It glued everything together, so that it became a unique thing, a vehicle in a dispersive mood. Strange, maybe, but that's no problem. That is why the exhibition appeared more like one big installation to me. Maybe an intriguing one. I don't know. I got used to it. Can one enjoy music without knowing solfège? Can one enjoy nature without being a biologist? Can one enjoy Temporary City without knowing about the process thing? Without any knowledge... it creates an exhibition, an environment for a walk, where senses can be triggered. That's the start of any reflection in/on art. Art has a lot to do with the unexplicable side of reality. Let's not kill it by explaining.
2. The structure often changed the perception of the individual works, this was not a bad thing (except for the little paintings which almost (unintentionally) drowned in the heavenly blue). The autonomous works were countered by the structure (anyway). The structure was countered by the artists interventions (turning upside down, corridor, cuttings) or the simple use of it. The total acts like a web with panoptic qualities. I like the fact that there is no private space, or at least less than in normal exhibitions. There is always something else around, that counters the smug autonomous side of the works.
3. The process seems, for me, only interesting for those who joined it as participants or attendants. (Is there any exhibition possible without a process?) But the exhibition clearly reflects the specific process. The special thing here, for me was the multitude of people involved. The result reflects this multitude,which is a good thing, and -of course- makes it difficult to read it in a classic way, which is also a good thing. The result was what it was, and I have (now) (more and more) problems with the fact that we (I also) explained so much and focused in such an amount on the process. Maybe we had to present it without softening talks.
1. Artists should be their own curators. Making solo exhibitions (and not listening to anyone ?) is the only way to really do so, I think. Curators and others keep lazy artists away from their self-curating capacities. Artists should have more self esteem. They are the artists. I really don't understand the difference in making an exhibition and making a painting/an installation/a video... It should be part of any artistic practice, logically. The structural thoughts and positions (in life and in art) taken by the artist in the production of any work, at once, seems to be without importance when it comes to presenting these works.
Making exhibitions has become something (unartistic) for specialized curators. This, for me, is a pernicious side of professionalism. Of course, there are interesting curators. But the balance is gone. The art world, behind the mask of professionalism, split up in a vaste apparatus of curators and evaluators (committees (for money, residencies, portofolios, academic degrees...), and, on the other hand, begging employees (artists) with very low dignity. The art institutions with office-windows often make me think of the pathetic creation of rock 'n roll- attitudes in rock-academies. Becoming an artist is the struggle to judge ones own work, without allowing any so called authority to be involved (alone in your atelier, okay romantic). Everything is possible if you accept the outcome as something that results 'naturally' out of the decisions, concepts taken... and present them as such. Artists make these days a lot of works on demand. Every theme/title of a group exhibition has tendencies to act as a demand. If not, why using that title anyway? Artists should be honest enough (very difficult) to say 'this is not my theme'.
2. The idea of an architectural structure/obstacle is just another possible entry, which might be interesting, especially for those artists who are prepared to really deal with it. In Temporary City, the totally different ways in (less or more) dealing with the structure, and the different outcomes mixed up in one big web/structure give the exhibition it's strength and tension. It 's not another classic exhibition
3. There are a lot of group exhibitions without a real curator. A strange result? Just confront the public with it, it will get used to it, or not. That's not important. The artist has to do what he/she has to do. Do the public a favour... ignore it.


Right here!

Thursday, 28 May 2009

Answers... (4)

... from Paul Hendrikse.
1. The experience that one gets when one enters the room is that of an exhibition. I think that classic reading is a difficult term, since there has been produced so many shows since the sixties that have been experimental or hard to read at first sight that it all quite depends on the knowledge of the viewer. Institutes often offer a text or a small reader to get an insight in the motives/themes of the show and artists, contemporary art is often cryptic and a manual can be handy. Temporary City is definately is an exhibition that becomes more interesting the more you know about the process of making it and for me a more interesting experience on a meta-level. There was only limited space for everybody, so the amount of works of each participant was limited. Group-shows can be disappointing for the spectator, since all too often the individual practices remain cryptic or unreadable because there are too little works by the individual artists shown. That is partly the case in this exhibition, but since the goal was different it is not such a problem. I guess that most of us understood very well that Temporary City wasn't about showing your work in the very best way, nor an ordinary group show.
2. The individual works have become part of a bigger installation, since they all hang, stand, lean or are placed within the structure that Andreas provided. The works would function and be read very differently if the works would be shown in their ideal conditions. I think all the works (and thereby all the artists) had to take a step back and see how the individual work could 'survive' in the bigger picture. I guess that several artists have dealt with that complicated situation by adjusting their work to the structure or by making a new work that could withstand it. I chose for the second option, not the normal way I work, since my works are usually developed over time. I tried to implement my way of working in a very short time and that was quite a challenge; discussing during the mornings and early afternoons and then developing a work during the rest of the day.
3. There are several traces of the process in the exhibition. I think that the visitor can see that the exhibition structure has been altered in some places, one can feel the struggle that has been done to show together. And then, there is also a video document of Temporary City that can be watched in the video-room in the exhibition. This might give an insight to the public that visits the exhibition on what has happened and involve them in this process (and there is this blog). In the process of making this exhibition loads of possible questions and specific topics came up that could lead to new initiatives of this sort. Several of these questions and problems are still resonating in me.
1. All of the possible forms of making an exhibition mentioned in the question are valid, but problematic. I cannot imagine to construct exhibitions like that. I think Temporary City worked since it posed questions about the conditions of showing, this is a topic that we are all dealing with and therefore provided a common ground. I guess that one can only group artists with very different practices when it comes to these kind of questions.
2. In the process of getting to Temporary City we decided to ask an architect to design a structure. This had several reasons, the most important one was that it would give a first impulse and a possible frame or structure to show very different works together. The room could have been this structure, though I think that Temporary City didn't end up in endless fights since we had to deal with this 'given'. Obviously the architecture plays a very important role in the making of the exhibition. I found it interesting that this numb object became such a player during the week and I think it was good that Andreas wasn't a participant like the other artists, it would have been very problematic if any of the artists showing would have build the structure. It might have been interesting if the process would have taken longer, I think with more time the structure would have had a lesser impact on the exhibition. Now everybody had to react quite fast and there was not much time to change or redefine ways of dealing with this.
3. There is a long history in self-organization of artists, Temporary City was not a new phenomenon. From the sixties on artists have been organizing themselves making exhibitions, actions, performances. In several countries there was a real boom of artist run spaces usually coming out of or along the development of squatting. The curated exhibition (in the scale that it has now) is a rather new phenomenon, but has a history as well with Harald Szeeman as a pioneer. These different modes of making an exhibition will and should exist both. For both applies that they (in whatever conditions they are made) simply should be challenging in every possible way.

Tuesday, 26 May 2009

Answers... (3)

... from Stijn Van Dorpe.
1. Are there classic 'reading schemes'? Probably, but I think every exhibition develops its own logic and proposes an own way of reading. In the case of Temporary City: what you see is what you get, an exhibition of individual artists that, positioning themselves inside of a construction built by an architect, integrate existing work or develop new work.
2. Two different starting points were used: some people have used the specific context to make work. Of course, the meaning of the work comes from this context. Others have tried to make existing work fit, but by doing so have also took a position towards the structure. For some works of art, it was difficult to find a place in the whole. The conditions were very difficult and dominant. I think the meaning of a work of art is always subject to the place where it is shown - think of the aura that belongs to the architecture of museums. I tend to work with these conditions, to use them, question them. I do think the works of art retain their own meaning. What else would become of them? But of course: what is this original meaning. To me, a work of art is not built up out of meanings, but it generates meanings, and it always falls in-between these meanings. Interesting for me are these works that show themselves, in relation to the construction, from another side. Concerning Temporary City: I think there are succesfull and less succesfull integrations present.
3. I still think an interesting process leads to an interesting result. If not so, an interesting process will become readable in the end result. Of course: this asks a sort of effort from the visitor, like art always does. Some background information is indispensable, like in 90% of the art exhibitions: to get an opening, an entry, not to explain everything. There is also the quality of the different works that determines whether an exhibition is exciting or not. What remains quite unique in the case of Temporary City, is the starting point offered by the architect, Andreas Müller. The exhibition can be read as a collection of positions towards an existing, totally not innocent given, that in itself was already filled with theoretical, social and political aspirations. I could not ignore that. I am also still thinking about an imaginary, probably more clear but maybe not more interesting project, in which every artist makes a work that he uses to position himself towards the existing construction.
1. When you would choose artists based on a theme, you are really acting like an ordinary and non-inspired curator. For me, that is no option for Temporary City. Whether this is possible for an artist, is something that each artist should decide individually.
2. Four walls and a ceiling are sufficient enough for me to make an exhibition - but they are not innocent, although less dominant then a designed operation by an architect. You might call that a shift of power, but on the other hand: the white cube is never neutral. But actually, I don't have much experience with exhibition architecture.
3. I don't believe in new genres. Everything can be interesting, everything can be uninteresting. But Temporary City is a reaction against the suppressed position of the artist. The artist, in order to do his work, needs to depend on all sorts of things: subsidies, commerce, curators, galeries and so on. That is one of the reasons why this initiative needs to be continued. And then we can see when the organisors will also be regarded as curators.

Saturday, 23 May 2009

Answers... (2)

... from Ada Van Hoorebeke.
1. If you try to read the exhibition in the classical way without knowing why and how the exhibition was made, it might give a rather weird impression. But I think it is positive if one remembers Temporary City as a remarkably weird exhibition. The idea behind it and the process of making it give it more value. You need to be attracted by something that you can’t place so easily. Isn’t that the nicest thing about contemporary art?
2. In the end the works retained their original meaning, but we certainly touched the borders… It was a challenge to do something with the architecture where necessary, in order to show the works in their original meaning. Sometimes an artwork became surprisingly different in a certain ‘accrochage’. Then you have to consider whether it is a desecration or not. The interesting thing is to find these border zones: from one spot the work feels right, but if you watch it from another, it looks weird. In this way the visitor has to discover the artworks behind, on top and through these blue bars. This gives the exhibition a special dimension.
3.I think a 'strange exhibition' is a compliment. We dared to make a strange exhibition! Why should we, with the concept of Temporary City, copy an exhibition model made by a curator?
1. We chose not to use a theme because we thought it didn’t make sense here. It‘s always a bit banal to show links between works in an obvious way, since everyone has his own theme. I think diversity is more interesting for this kind of project. But you could choose the artists you want to group, according to their approach to art. Although there should be opposites, they need to be willing to work and think together.
2. Why an architectural structure? I think it was interesting and helpful to start from one architectural skeleton, which keeps the works together. Important is that the architect hands it over to the artists. His traces are very much present, but we used, even tortured them freely. Another remarkable thing is that the ‘struggle’ with the structure made struggle between the artists unnecessary; it made us more cooperative: ‘How can we deal with this obstacle?’ That was our main concern. Probably it would have been interesting to work further on the first structure made by the architect with another sculptor or architect: to make more walls between the wooden pillars, or make niches in order to create some empty spaces; interventions made for individual works, during the building up of the exhibition.
3.I think artist's exhibitions are not so new, but to really reflect on how to show your art together in a different way with more than ten artists together, not led by anyone in particular, or by an institution, is probably not very common.

Friday, 22 May 2009

Answers... (1)

...from Anouk Kruithof.
1. The exhibition can (certainly in Berlin) be judged as any other exhibition of contemporary art, so not exclusively as an alternative way of making an exhibition. Here and there, similar experiments have been taking place in Berlin. There is just too much to be said against contemporary norms and uses. There are so many curators or artists who call themselves independent curator and who make one group show after the other (again, certainly in Berlin). On the one hand, young artists feel the pressure to show their work in as many places as possible; but on the other hand, this seldom offers a challenge or a learning process. Here, it is different. Temporary City shows no consistency between the different works, but it is a consistent exhibition, because the architecture is the form where the exhibition is 'attached to'.
2. For some works of art, the architecture is certainly too dominant, and the wooden structure 'roars down' their work. Some artists make their own space and get round the structure. For myself, it is a totally logical reaction to work with the existing situation and make new work by reacting to it. I would not like to have existing works close to the structure. What I have made now was a natural solution and at the same time a challenge, because I have never made anything this fast and I have never really decided upon the way of presenting the work in an exhibition.
3. I think there was a lot of talk and the discussions were very good for the development and the experience of the artists themselves. And I think this process has also yielded an exiting exhibition. The proces itself might not really be visible inside of the exhibition, but it is certainly part of the history of the project.
1. The artists did not see themselves as curators. A group of artists could make an exhibition around a theme, provided that the group would be related to each other and to the theme. Of course, making a work about a fixed theme, is not possible, because art is autonomous, certainly in an exhibition context. In that case, it would be like art on commission, but that is something else, something between autonomous and applied art.
2. The architect in Temporary City was almost chosen like a saint. His structure and his order to transform it, almost became the theme of the exhibition. The architecture almost became the leading work of art on which everyone has parasitized. It was interesting to see the structure, because of the struggle with it. I would not preference this kind of exhibition architecture. I can understand the phenomenon, when the architecture shows the space and is modest enough to give a surplus value to the works of art. But in this case I wondered whether this architect did not see himself as one of the artists.
3. It sounds nice, but I think it is impossible to start making 'artist's exhibitions'. I think our group was exceptional. Beautifully loyal and flexible and understanding people! Somethimes it almost felt like magic how everyone dealt with each other and tried to listen. I don't know if the bigger part of them are fan of the Dalai Lama, but I will not easily forget this experience. And just because the proces was positive and constructive, the result is good enough. In other cases, to many egocentric people involved might clash. I don't think there is a new exhibition genre coming up, but I do believe there is a promising future ahead for Temporary City.

Tuesday, 19 May 2009


As soon as an exhibition opens, it wants to be noticed – by an audience, by the press and by history. Every exhibition and every single work of art places itself inside of a tradition, but also looks forward to the future. This is even more so the case with Temporary City: just like every experimental ‘act’, it presents results that are only useful when they lie at the base of new experiments. In an over-curated era, in an art world where the power structures are constantly out of balance, Temporary City wants to look for other ways of grouping works of art – of making an exhibition. So what, then, are the questions that Temporary City is posing during the time of its existence?
There are questions that Temporary City should probably ask itself.
1. Is Temporary City a good exhibition? Is it possible to visit, read and interpret it with the ‘classic’ reading schemes of modern art? Or can it only be valued on a meta-level, as an exhibition about an alternative way of making an exhibition?
2. Do the works of art have retained their ‘original’ meaning? Does the exhibition architecture make it possible to view the works differently – or does the ‘structure’ make it impossible to view the works at all? Do the artists think that the intention they had when making their works, is lessened or strenghtened in the context of Temporary City? Or does the exhibition exert no influence at all?
3. What is a process? Does it mean anything? One of the often heard reactions to Temporary City was that ‘the process’ was quite alright, but the exhibition was rather ‘strange’. Does this mean that ‘the process’ is in no way visible in the exhibition? Does this mean that there is no such thing as a process? Or does this mean that a process has no value whatsoever – in art, as in anything else, it’s the result that counts. Who is enjoying the process ‘now’ – the artists, the audience, or no one in particular?
And then there are questions that Temporary City is posing to the future – to future editions of Temporary City or to similar initiatives in the western art world.
1. Should artists that make an exhibition behave like curators? And what does this mean? Is it possible to group artists and then choose a theme for the exhibtion? (Should it have been possible for Temporary City?) Or is it possible to choose a theme for an exhibition and then group artists – without a curator? And – more dangerously – does this not mean that artists can make a work on demand: here is a theme, now make a work about it!
2. Should artists that make an exhibition make their own exhibition architecture? Does every intervention of an architect in an exhibition without curator, imply a shift in power to this architect? And what exactly is exhibtion architecture? Why are four walls, a ceiling and a floor, not enough?
3. Should artists that make an exhibition not simply start using a new kind of exhibition: not a group exhibition with a curator, but an artist’s exhibition? The birth of a new genre! But how should the audience look at this kind of thing? How can an artist’s exhibition be properly enjoyed? (cvg)


Right here!

Friday, 15 May 2009

Opening night

Tonight is the opening night of Temporary City. The final installments of the 15 artists can be described as follows, in 15 words for each artist.
Anton Cotteleer has made one installation out of coloured pictures and real everyday cultural objects.
Ilke De Vries has made a video showing the passage of time around Volkspark Hasenheide.
Yoko Enoki has made three paintings and placed them close or next to the structure.
Paul Hendrikse has staged a performance of the drum solo in Moby Dick (Led Zeppelin).
Anouk Kruithof has made eight cakes coated with pictures of a party in Temporary City.
Nicolas Leus has changed the exhibition structure by making small adjustments all over the room.
Katrin Plavcak has made two sculptures out of metal, alien structures standing on high legs.
Olivier Schrauwen has drawn a comic and will make a weekly newspaper about Temporary City.
Nada Sebestyén made three works out of used materials and placed them in the structure.
Nele Tas has made three paintings and placed them above or next to the structure.
Iris Van Dongen has made a portrait drawing in crayon of a person in profile.
Stijn Van Dorpe has made two parallel walls that cut right through the exhibition architecture.
Ada Van Hoorebeke has made a diptych and installed it so that a shrine arose.
Tamara Van San has made several colourful sculptures that are spread across the exhibition space.
Sarah Westphal has made two works: one projection of a window, one landscape lying down.

Thursday, 14 May 2009


Now that the exhibition Temporary City is literally taking shape, it should be possible to take its title to the letter: in which way, and how much, does this exhibition that is entirely organised by the artists themselves, resemble a temporary city? One should, however, pose the question differently, because contemporary cities are not as generic as is sometimes claimed. So: does this exhibtion look like Berlin?
Like all great capitals of the world, Berlin is filled with meanings. It is not so much the city were history ended, as the city were the end of history, and the battle between the two main ideologies of the twentieth century, is still eminently visible. The voids in the city – filled up with parking lots, parks, playgrounds – are staying empty. Their emptiness is what gives Berlin its character, its rather low density – and probably its phantom temporality as well. Because if Berlin is a vacant city, waited to be filled up, repaired, ‘prothestised’ and completed – when exactly should this happen? And why hasn’t it happened yet? The constant changes that are taking place in Berlin, since the fall of the Wall, might be a more timeless, and an inherently modern feature. Already in 1910 the German critic Karl Scheffler wrote: ‘Berlin ist eine Stadt, verdammt dazu, ewig zu werden, niemals zu sein.’
Does the same apply to Temporary City? Differently put: does a visitor visit this exhibition like he or she would visit Berlin? Of course, like every exhibition, Temporary City is ‘temporary’ because it will disappear after the 7th of June. And of course, every visit to this exhibition is only temporary. Just like that, every interpretation is personal and fleeting, and every ‘visitation’ has a preliminary nature. But the extraordinary character of Temporary City (its organic growth, its experimental nature, its abandonment of curatorial structures) makes the art on display ‘pure’, not bothered by thoughts or topics or convictions or fixed meanings. It is this state that is probably temporary as well – temporary, that is, just like Berlin. If the ‘art capital’ of Europe, together with Temporary City, is showing something, it might be that the end of history was nothing more - and nothing less - than the true beginning of art. (cvg)

Wednesday, 13 May 2009


The curator is the connection between the work of art and the world outside. This is exactly why the curatorial process is never innocent. It is always an interpretation of the work of art; without interpretation there can be no such thing as good curating. This does, of course, not imply that all interpretational activity is already done by the curator: in an ideal world, an exhibition is determined to such a degree that an aesthetic experience (in the case of modern art almost exclusively an interpretational activity) becomes possible. This is the democratic way in which art – and art only – can make things visible and negotiable.
On the other hand: in the twenty-first century, an orientation towards the world is always clearly an adress to the market. The curator knows best how to make art merchantable – and nowadays, since curatorial practices are almost as competitive as artistic practices – how to make himself merchantable.
One of the absences in the subsidized project Temporary City is the absence of the market. Who wants to buy one of the works on show will not be forbidden to do so. But everybody knows that the desire to be sold can only be responded to with the help of common, if not unconscious activities.
The rupture that the autonomy of Temporary City entails, is a rupture with the market and the art institutions. The greatest difficulty that the art works on show need to confront, is the difficulty of speaking to an audience without using the classical language of the art market. This is a balance of the highest importance: on the one hand, to inform the audience (with the danger of irreversibly labeling the exhibition as an ‘interessant and sympathetic experiment’) – and on the other hand to let it be moved as it has been moved since the commissioning of contemporary art (with the danger of offering only conceptual quicksand). In this way, Temporary City is not unlike any other exhibition, as it can be compared to the famous ladder of Wittgenstein: use it to climb up to the artistic experience, and then let it drop at the highest point. (cvg)

Tuesday, 12 May 2009


Berlin-based architect Andreas Müller has conceived and built an architectural structure for the exhibition Temporary City. The artefact is a wooden transparent screen that demarcates several perpendicular corners and half-open rooms inside of the exhibition venue. Under and above eye level two blue (himmelblau) bars divide the space. The artists involved are using the following two terms: ‘space’ for the exhibition room; ‘structure’ for the architectural element. The architect – who, just like every decent architect, has left the building shortly after the ‘inhabitants’ arrived – has given no fixed rules on how this ‘structure’ should be used.
The works of art involved in Temporary City are made up out of very different media: photographs, paintings, drawings, videos, performances, installations, sculptures, artefacts and in-situ interventions. Each artist now needs to find the right way of using the structure, in order to present his or her work – of course in mutual agreement with the other artists. Temporary City is an experiment with the powers that dominate art. But how much power from above can art shake down, without losing some of its own power? Is it possible for a work of art to create, by means of its creator, its own way of showing itself? Some works of art are, for the moment, trudging their way inside of the space – like PacMan did – by eating and directly digesting the structure. If a neutral, self-evident and therefore powerful element like an exhibition space or a structure (as a minimalization of the museum), is not only violated, but sometimes even radically altered – what is it that finally appears? A work of art that has broken free and made its own perfect environment? A work of art that is no longer naked but clothed inside the elements it has always longed for? Or a work of art that has become inseparable from its surroundings – that has become one with its surroundings, losing its original meanings by gaining new ones? Modern art is exactly modern because it is always born at the moment someone or something says: ‘From this point on: your attention please – art!’ For now, on Tuesday evening, these points lie scattered in the exhibition space, like confetti after a party. (cvg)

Monday, 11 May 2009


In an exhibition, works of art are matched. They start to belong together; they search an equal ‘other’ in order to exist inside of the exhibition space and inside of a temporary artificial constellation. The curator hereby acts as a matchmaker. Moreover, as Boris Groys wrote in Art Power, the process of curating ‘cures’ the image’s powerlessness, its incapacity to become visible. In Temporary City, the artists need to find a suitable match for their own pieces of art; they are both searcher and matchmaker, both bearer of the virus of art and owner of the cure.
Just like in human relationships, a couple is the least unstable relationship that is possible between individual entities. Today, the artists involved in Temporary City, have experimentally gone on a blind date: pairs of artists, together with their as yet unborn works of art, have taken a trip in the land of the exhibition space, governed by the wooden architectural structure. Possibilities were touched upon, affinities have been laid bare. But what really happens when artists match their works with the works of others? Out of a myriad of possible meanings, one interpretation comes to the surface, simply by the linkage and the double, two-fold positioning. Creating and interpreting have, ever since the dawn of art history, been two separate activities. In the extraordinary process of the making of Temporary City, they will need to blend in order to succeed.
The first work day – Monday – ends with a party. This party will end up, on Friday, as a work of art itself. What this real party means right now, is clear – what it will mean as a part of the exhibition, will depend on the works of art it will eventually be matched with. (cvg)

Sunday, 10 May 2009


The work of an artist usually ends a couple of days prior to the opening of the exhibition. Temporary City is different. Since there is no curator and no fixed theme involved, the artists do not only decide, at the spot, what will become art – they also give this art a specific place inside of the exhibition space at Atelierhof in Berlin.
Since yesterday, fifteen artists are present here, and they will not leave before the opening of the exhibition on Friday.
Their double task – making and taking – arouses questions that make us think differently on what art is all about. When fifteen artists decide to make an exhibition together, ‘democratic’, as a group of young befriended individuals, can this result even be called an exhibition – or rather one new big giant work of art? Does the absence of a theme – or more generally put: the absence of something that links the artists and their works together other than simple coincidence – not necessarily imposes present latent themes: the ‘problem’ of Berlin, the use of the architectural exhibition structure, the battle of different media and approaches, the temporality of all art? How will this ‘process’ of making an exhibition be visible inside of the exhibition space – and how will the new, rather explicit, and specially designed exhibition structure survive? What has become of the romantic loneliness of the artistic project, when to make this adventure succeed, talk and compromise is necessary, and no artist can be alone for longer than five minutes? And finally: what will be handed over to the public: an exhibition that can only speak about the way it has been made – and that by doing so, must keep silent about everything that art has up to now spoken about? Or an exhibition that is nor an exhibition nor a work of art, but something irreprehensible, unfinished, unmastered and confusing?
Whatever will happen in the next couple of days – these questions will constantly snap, break and present themselves. Like twigs during a walk in the forest, compared by Walter Benjamin to a walk in the city: not to find one’s way between the trees is not the purpose; one must loose oneself in it. (cvg)