Ulrike Ottinger, Johanna d'Arc of Mongolia, 1989, 1-Kanal-Video, Farbe, Ton; 35-mm-Film, bertragen auf DVD, Nr. 70 fortlaufend nummeriert ab Nr. 100, aber keine Edition, 158', Courtesy Sammlung Goetz.

Feminist Positions in the Goetz Video Collection at Haus der Kunst

Ulrike Ottinger, Johanna d'Arc of Mongolia, 1989, 1-Kanal-Video, Farbe, Ton; 35-mm-Film übertragen auf DVD, Nr. 70 fortlaufend nummeriert ab Nr. 100, aber keine Edition, 158', Courtesy Sammlung Goetz.

Tracey Moffatt, Nice Coloured Girls, 1987, 1-Kanal-Video, Farbe, Ton, unlimitierte Auflage, 18' 31", Courtesy Sammlung Goetz.

Rineke Dijkstra, Annemiek, 1997, 1-Kanal-Video, Projektion oder Monitor, Farbe, Ton, Edition 1/10 (+ 2 a.p.), 4' Loop, Courtesy Sammlung Goetz.

Rosemarie Trockel, Fan 1-6, 2000, 1-Kanal-Video, Projektion oder Monitor, S/W, Ton, Edition 2/10, 11' 48", Courtesy Sammlung Goetz.

Tracey Moffatt, Lip, 1999, 1-Kanal-Video, Farbe, Ton, unlimitierte Auflage, 9' 45", Courtesy Sammlung Goetz.

 

Haus der Kunst
Prinzregentenstrasse 1
+ 49 89 21127 115
Münich
So Much I Want to Say:
From Annemiek to Mother Courage –
Goetz Collection at Haus der Kunst

April 19, 2013-January 12, 2014

In the 1990s, when Ingvild Goetz began to systematically collect media art, the theoretical foundations for gender studies — now familiar through comparative literature, cultural studies, and related disciplines — were first being established. The works Goetz acquired for her media art collection reflect the keen interest in these issues at the time. Dating from the mid-1970s and later, the films presented in the exhibition reflect the discourse of the feminist movement, particularly feminist film theory.

The title of this fifth presentation of works from the Goetz Collection at Haus der Kunst is borrowed from an early video work by Mona Hatoum (1983) and is based on the material of a performance that was broadcast live via satellite between Vienna and Vancouver. Because of the technical limitations at the time, the close-up image of a woman's face transformed into a new image only every eight seconds. While Hatoum's voice repeats the words "So Much I Want to Say" on the soundtrack, the images depict a woman's face being obscured by men's hands. Hatoum was born in Lebanon and lives in London. In her work, she explores how individuals are socially marginalized and silenced because of their origin and gender.

With her piece Letters to an Army of Three (2005), Andrea Bowers addresses a classic 1960s feminist issue — the commitment to legalize abortion. The "Army of Three" consisted of three activists working in the San Francisco Bay area who, from 1964 to 1973, advocated abortion and helped those affected by providing them with a list of physicians. The composition of monochromatic backgrounds, each with different floral arrangements placed on a table, is reminiscent of 18th- and 19th-century portrait painting. Seated facing the camera, actresses and actors each read one of 35 letters from men and women who describe their plights and ask for help in terminating their pregnancies. Each bouquet is unique and individually designed to represent the spectrum of individual fates. The succession underscores the fact that unwanted pregnancies are not just exceptions sanctioned by the law and society.

Tracey Moffatt's and Rosemarie Trockel's contributions focus on breaking open gender roles. Moffatt is concerned with the diminished representation of women, particularly of women of color, in films. In her video collage Lip (1999), produced with Gary Hillberg, she strings together scenes from Hollywood productions. In the role of the attendant the colored women merely have the choice of being either attentive and submissive, or negligent and insubordinate. The video's title refers to the expression "to give lip", i.e. to talk back. The film's pointed editing exposes the inadequate one-dimensional view of the characters.

In Nice Coloured Girls (1987), Moffatt exhibits the cinematic techniques employed to represent power relations by reversing gender stereotypes. Her video is a counterpoint to a paradox addressed by film theory: Although women are ubiquitous in movies, they occupy determining roles far less often than do men. In Nice Coloured Girls, three Australian Aborigine women hook a drunken white man, their "captain". They eat, drink, and amuse themselves at his expense only to steal his wallet in the end and disappear in a taxi. They are the actors who degrade the man to an object. The alternation between subtitles and a male voice from the off corresponds to a change in narrative levels. The speaker represents the position of the male colonizers in the 18th century, whereas the subtitles comment on current events as seen from the perspective of women who rise above gender entrapment, role models and submission.

Rosemarie Trockel's Fan 1-6 from 2000 examines the veneration cult surrounding Brigitte Bardot. In a series of short scenes that directly or indirectly depict Bardot, Trockel unfolds the contradictions of this figure with subtle humor. While Bardot sings of her desires in the song Mr. Sun (1968) — "only you understand how lonely I am" — the camera pans around an old-fashioned Heiliger-brand stove and several women step into the role of Bardot, dramatically made up, as a child-woman, animal rights activist, or seductress. "She has this quality of being a model for everything," says Trockel about Bardot and the seemingly limitless ideas projected onto her persona, who remains unaffected by them.

With its plot of heroine, adventure, homecoming, Ulrike Ottinger's Johanna d'Arc of Mongolia (1989) resembles a fairy tale. Four women meet on the Trans-Siberian Railway — a Broadway singer, a secondary school teacher, an ethnographer, and a backpacker. Their particular characters are outlined in the interior of the train wagons. After the women are abducted by a Mongolian princess and her female entourage, the action moves outside and becomes a journey on foot and horseback, with the kidnappers through the extraordinary natural beauty of Inner Mongolia. Each woman reacts differently to the unknown: Going on a hunt, living in yurts, witnessing events and rituals. In the wilderness of the steppe and in the communion of the kidnappers, the four women explore their self-image anew — in terms of their careers, sexuality, and spirituality.

Works by female artists constitute nearly half of the pieces in Ingvild Goetz's collection of media art. Significantly, Cheryl Donegan's lustful video Untitled (Head) was Goetz's first purchase. She acquired the work in 1993, the year it was created. As a whole, the works in her media art collection represent the key stages of feminist discourse since the 1970s.

The exhibition is curated by Patrizia Dander.

Exhibited works include Chantal Akerman, Selfportrait/Autobiography: a work in progress, 1998; with excerpts from her films: Hôtel Monterey (1972), Jeanne Dielman, 23 quai du commerce, 1080 Bruxelles (1975), Toute une nuit (1982), D'Est (1993); Andrea Bowers, Letters to an Army of Three; 2005, Rineke Dijkstra, Annemiek, 1997; Cheryl Donegan, Untitled (Head), 1993; Mona Hatoum, So Much I Want to Say, 1983; Lucy McKenzie & Paulina Olowska, Oblique Composition III, 2003; Tracey Moffatt, Nice Coloured Girls, 1987; Tracey Moffatt & Gary Hillberg, Lip, 1999, Ulrike Ottinger, Johanna d'Arc of Mongolia, 1989; Ryan Trecartin, What's the Love Making Babies For, 2003; Rosemarie Trockel, Fan 1-6, 2000; Manus Spleen IV, 2002; T.J. Wilcox, Das Begräbnis der Marlene Dietrich (The Burial of Marlene Dietrich), 1999.

Andrea Bowers, Letters to an Army of Three, 2005, Installation mit 1-Kanal-Video, Projektion oder Monitor, Farbe, Ton und Papier-Installation, Video: Edition 1/5 + Papier: Unikat, 55' 38", Courtesy Sammlung Goetz.

Ryan Trecartin, What's the Love Making Babies For, 2003, 1-Kanal-Video, Farbe, Ton, Edition 3/8 (+ 3 a.p.), 20', Courtesy Sammlung Goetz.

Dominique Gonzalez-Foerster & Tristan Bera, Belle Comme le Jour, 2012, Still, 1-Kanal-Videoprojektion (Farbe, Ton), Courtesy Sammlung Goetz.

Open-Ended Film and Video Narratives in the Goetz Collection

Teresa Hubbard / Alexander Birchler, House with Pool, 2004, Still, 1-Kanal-Videoinstallation (Farbe, Ton), 20’ 39’’ Loop, Courtesy Sammlung Goetz.

Clement Page, Hold your breath, 2010, Still, 1-Kanal-Videoprojektion (s/w, Ton), 16’ 30’’, Courtesy Sammlung Goetz.

Pierre Coulibeuf, The Warriors of Beauty, 2002/06, Still, 2-Kanal-Videoinstallation (Farbe, Ton), 51’ 02’’ Loop / 5’ 03’’ Loop, Courtesy Sammlung Goetz.

Yang Fudong, Honey (mi), 2003, Still, 1-Kanal-Videoinstallation (Farbe, Ton), 9’ 29’’, Courtesy Sammlung Goetz.

Ann-Sofi Sidén, QM, I Think I Call Her QM, 1997, Still, 1-Kanal-Videoinstallation (Farbe, Ton), 28’, Courtesy Sammlung Goetz, © Ann-Sofi Sidén / VG Bild-Kunst, Bonn.

Sue de Beer, The Quickening, 2006, Still, 1-Kanal-Videoinstallation (Farbe, Ton), 26’ 49’’, Courtesy Sammlung Goetz.

 

Haus der Kunst
Prinzregenstrasse 1
+ 49 89 21127 115
Münich
Open End
Goetz Collection at Haus der Kunst

September 28, 2012-April 7, 2013

Open End is the fourth exhibition in an ongoing series of presentations of film and video works from the Goetz Collection in Haus der Kunst. Featuring the work of 14 renowned international artists, the cinematic works in this exhibition explore the idea of the open narrative with regard to the visual aspect and the use of language. As in the modern and contemporary novel, which constitutes one of the most overt aspects of the literary narrative, freer, open, narrative forms take the place of conventional, linear action towards an end point. Likewise, all the films in this exhibition share the trait of being open ended, thus pointing to affinities between the narrative techniques of the novel and visual structuring of contemporary film installations.

In House with Pool (Teresa Hubbard / Alexander Birchler, 2004), several plot lines are consistently pursued in parallel without them ever touching. It is not just the story's finish that is open ended here, but its beginning as well. Furthermore, anything that allows the viewer to infer a chronological sequence remains mere conjecture. A woman waiting in a tidy house; a girl who flees from the same house only to return; and the gardener who retrieves a dead deer out of the pool: each of these forms an individual storyline.

Sebastian Diaz Morales joins together six, very similar episodes (The Man with the Bag, 2004). In all of these, a man runs through the barren and desolate landscape of Patagonia. His efforts to move forward are hindered by the sack he is carrying. In each episode, he stumbles, losing the bag's contents — sometimes bones, sometimes stones — and he even leaves the sack by the wayside, only to continue his journey later from the same spot. A Canto Ostinato for two pianos and sounds of the wind comprise the soundtrack. The burden the man carries and never rids himself of makes him seem like a modern day Sisyphus, one condemned to the eternal repetition of a futile activity.

In Journey into Fear (2001), Stan Douglas mixes the boxed narrative with the elements of a thriller. The film is set on a container ship. The female pilot wants to get the cargo to the destination port on time. Because of commodity future transaction, which is only profitable in the case of a late arrival, the cargo inspector uses flattery, bribery, and even death threats to put the pilot under pressure. The film's script consists of several variations of a dialogue, each of which is again divided into subsections; a computer randomly selects and combines these elements, resulting in a total of several hundred different variants. Individual parts of the action are continually repeated and slightly modified at the same time. Rather than pursuing one main narrative and using the myriad variations instead, the director examines how many sections and repetitions an action can be dissected into and still be perceived as a story.

Repetition is also an important stylistic device in The Warriors of Beauty (Pierre Coulibeuf, 2002/06). The 2-channel installation shows a main image in a loop: A naked man with outstretched arms jumps toward a ceiling and falls every time. Shown on the second screen is a sequence of figures who appear repeatedly, as if on a turntable. Once again, the actions are without a beginning or end. This time, however, they are abstruse and even surreal because neither objective nor motive can be identified: A man in a suit of armor wears himself out fighting against an unseen enemy; a bride, looking about, hurries through the aisles of a monastery; beetles crawl out of the mouth of a young woman, etc. Everyone seems possessed by a demon that dictates their movements. The setting in which the action unfolds is choreographed and reminiscent of theater. However, the bustle of the tortured souls has its roots in painting and literature, dating back to the visions of hell in the work of Dante Alighieri or Hieronymus Bosch. It is no coincidence that the set location is similar to that of a medieval monastery.

In literature, a text can have a subtext that transports the "real" message between the lines. The Interview illustrates the relationship between text and subtext using cinematic means. The text tells a story about Helen, a single mother. Although she is preparing for a job interview, Helen allows an unknown woman, Shirley — who rang at her door and has no fixed abode — to spend the night. The camera follows their conversation, Shirley waking up at dawn, and Helen on her way to the interview. The film ends with a frontal view of Helen's stern face. The subtext goes deeper than the external events, revealing the spirituality hidden in everyday activities, like making tea, and exposes the inner emotions of the characters: their restlessness, their desire for respect and their ability to empathize. The main stylistic device here is the timing of color: When moving within their private spheres, the protagonists are given only a hint of color, whereas when engaged with their social environment, the colors intensify. The meditative camera work also helps to reveal and depict the people's emotional state.

Laurent Montaron and Clement Page also explore what is difficult to express in words. Clement Page's work focuses on the trance states of a small boy, who is evolving a childish phobia of white wolves, like those he has seen in children's books. The film is based on Sigmund Freud's case study, The Wolf Man. With Montaron, the failure of language is already expressed in the film's title, Balbvtio, which means "stuttering" in Latin. A boy shoots pigeons in an old church and rips off the piece of paper wrapped around one of these pigeons' legs. He translates the text on the paper using a dictionary; the meaning is as clear — or obscure — as concrete poetry. In all of these, the sequence of the events is as loose, and with as many breaks, as a dream.

The contributions of Isaac Julien and Emmanuelle Antille can be understood as dream diaries. Together, this selection of works demonstrates that the film director has as many possibilities at his disposal as does the author of a novel with regard to artistic media and narrative techniques. These include the open end, as well as the mix of genres, the framed and episode story, the whole range of narrative perspectives (from the character perspective to the omniscient author, and all hybrids of these), the stream of consciousness as technique, and the variation on a basic theme; and, just as novelists tell their readers about the process of writing, the film director can also elevate the narrative itself to the subject on a superordinate level.

Open End is the fourth presentation of works from the Goetz Collection in Haus der Kunst. The exhibition is curated by Ingvild Goetz.

The exhibition includes: Emmanuelle Antille, Radiant Spirits, 2000; Pierre Coulibeuf, The Warriors of Beauty, 2002/06, Sue de Beer, The Quickening, 2006; Sebastian Diaz Morales, The Man with the Bag, 2004; Stan Douglas, Journey into Fear, 2001; Dominique Gonzalez-Foerster & Tristan Bera, Belle comme le jour, 2012; Teresa Hubbard/Alexander Birchler, House with Pool, 2004; Isaac Julien, Paradise Omeros, 2002; Ross Lipman, The Interview, 2004; Laurent Montaron, Balbvtio, 2009; Saskia Olde Wolbers, Day-Glo, 1999, Clement Page, Hold Your Breath, 2010; Ann-Sofi Sidén, QM, I Think I Call Her QM, 1997; Yang Fudong, Honey (mi), 2003.

 

Laurent Montaron, Balbvtio, 2009, Still, 2-Kanal-Videoinstallation (Farbe, Ton), 11’ 49’’, Courtesy Sammlung Goetz.

Tacita Dean, Sound Mirrors, 1999, Still, 1-Kanal-16mm-Filminstallation (s/w, Ton). 7’, Courtesy Sammlung Goetz.

Guido van der Werve, Nummer drie, take step fall, 2004, Still, 1-Kanal-Film- oder Videoprojektion (Farbe, Ton)

David Claerbout, Ruurlo, Bocurloscheweg, 1910, 1997, Still, 1-Kanal-Videoinstallation (s/w, ohne Ton), 60’ Loop, Courtesy Sammlung Goetz , © David Claerbout / VG Bild-Kunst, Bonn 2012.

Goetz Collection, Synesthesia, Seeing Sounds and Hearing Images

Christoph Brech, The Wind that shakes the Barley, 2008, Still, 1-Kanal-Video (Projektion oder Monitor) (Farbe, Ton), Courtesy Sammlung Goetz.

Christian Marclay, Telephones, 1995, Still, 1-Kanal Video (Farbe, Ton), Courtesy Sammlung Goetz.

Francis Alÿs, El Gringo, 2004, Still, 1-Kanal-Video (Farbe, Ton), 4’ 12’’, Courtesy Sammlung Goetz.

Gary Hill, Blind Spot, 2004, Still, 1-Kanal-Video (Farbe, Ton), 12’ 27’’, Courtesy Sammlung Goetz, © Gary Hill / VG Bild-Kunst, Bonn, 2012.

Hans op de Beeck, Colours, 1999, Still, 1-Kanal-Videoprojektion (Farbe, ohne Ton), 1’ 41’’, Courtesy Sammlung Goetz, © Hans Op de Beeck / VG Bild-Kunst, Bonn 2012.

Anri Sala, Uomoduomo, 2000, Still, 1-Kanal-Videoprojektion (Farbe, ohne Ton), 1’ 34’’ ,Courtesy Sammlung Goetz.

Rodney Graham, A Little Thought, 2000, Still, 1-Kanal-Videoinstallation (Farbe, Ton), 3’ 54’’, Courtesy Sammlung Goetz.

 

Haus der Kunst
Prinzregenstrasse 1
+ 49 89 21127 115
München
Resonance and Silence –
Goetz Collection at Haus der Kunst

April 14-September 9, 2012

For the third exhibition of the cooperation between The Goetz Collection and Haus der Kunst, film and video works were selected in which acoustic aspects are as important as visual ones. Thereby the relationship between sound and image constitutes a broad range. These two elements are linked most closely in silence, in the still or silent image, which approximates other media such as painting and photography.

Resonance The fascination with combining image and sound has a long tradition. The term "synesthesia", from the Greek words meaning "together" and "sensation", came into use in the mid-19th century and describes the ability to hear colors and see sounds. This tradition continues in various ways in contemporary film and video art.

In Sabbath 2008 (2008), Nira Pereg shows preparations for the Jewish Saturday in an orthodox neighborhood in Jerusalem. The streets are being blocked off with metal barriers, which make a loud screeching sound as they are pulled across the road. This sound is isolated and becomes a kind of commentary in its overexaggeration.

In a manner that is both systematic and humorous, in his work Telephones (1995; presented in 1999 at the Venice Biennale), Christian Marclay combines film scenes with famous actors in a way that it looks as if they were calling each other. In combination, the different ringing sounds, the sounds from the cradle and of the rotary dial and the bits and pieces of conversation, become a new composition of film and video art.

In El Gringo (2003), Francis Alÿs depicts his confrontation with a group of dogs on a street from the first-person perspective. The dogs bark aggressively at him as he tries to pass them; they finally bite his arm and at the camera. The camera is left on the ground at last. The viewer remains alone with it, like a severed sensory organ, and has to endure the sight of the dogs sniffing and edging at the camera until the image turns black.

Gary Hill's Blind Spot (2003) shows a 30-second shot filmed with a hand-held camera in a street in Marseille. The scene is increasingly slowed down until the elongation produces unpleasant sounds, and is segmented with black and silent sequences. Teresa Hubbard and Alexander Birchler also work with interruptions in the image flow in Gregor's Room II (1998/99). From a constant height, a camera circles a room in which a man is packing things
into boxes. Through the openings — doors and windows — the view expands, only to be blocked by black segments a moment later. Proximity and distance to the event is alternately established and eliminated. The film is shown in a soundless version.

In the aesthetics of a documentary, Tacita Dean makes film images of old monuments that have long since lost their function. In her 16mm film installation Sound Mirrors (1999), one sees buildings made of poured concrete along the British coast of Kent. These constructions should serve as a military early warning system by amplifying the sound of approaching airplanes. In Dean's work, however, the sounds from the surrounding natural environment, rather than from airplanes, are superimposed with the sounds of the projector. What usually creates the acoustic background now enters the foreground and is charged with meaning.

Silence The absence of acoustic stimuli can trigger acoustic memories and establish links to other media. In Ruurlo, Bocurloscheweg, 1910 (1997), David Claerbout makes use of this possibility. In a black and white photograph of the village — whose name is the same as the work's title — he shows a tree gently moving in the wind, while everything else remains static. The absence of sounds initially gives the impression that we are looking at a photograph; the viewer only slowly registers the movement.

Hans Op de Beeck uses the absence of sound to establish a connection between the medium of film with that of painting. In Colours (1999), he places people in a rigid stance against various monochromatic backgrounds, in the manner of the Old Masters. The images also reveal Op de Beeck's exploration of the topos of the living image. In Uomoduomo (2000), Anri Sala also offers a possibility of a portrait in film through the absence of sound. The rigid shots, made with a hand-held camera, show an old man. Placed in the center of the picture, his face can't be seen and there is virtually no information related to his identity. He is slumped over and asleep in a church pew; his body repeatedly threatens to fall over, but he catches himself each time. This "in-between" state between falling over and maintaining balance is typical of Anri Sala's work.

Music Six of the selected works focus on music without making the visual elements of the work seem illustrated. In Tim Lee's work The Goldberg Variations (2007), one can hear the eponymous work by Johann Sebastian Bach. Lee refers here to Glenn Gould, who recorded the variations and the aria separately in his ideal conception and then combined them in a single track. Lee translates this piece of montage in individual black and white close-ups of his right and left hand playing piano, with the hands shown on two separated displays. Using hard film cuts, the shots of his hands are joined. An irritating sequence accompanies a continuous melodic flow.

Wolfgang Tillmans' first video work Lights (Body) (2000-2002), relates to his early photographs of techno clubs. The close-up images of the disco lighting, which moves to the rhythm of a remix of Don't Be Light by Air, is reminiscent of a typical club night in the 1980s or 1990s. "Light" can mean both "light" (i.e. the noun) and "light" (i.e. the adjective). With respect to this dual meaning, the rhythmic movements of the lights can be regarded as both physical liberation from gravity through dance, as well as a reference to the volatility of life.

In Rodney Graham's A Little Thought (2000), shots of an idyllic summer day are accompanied by a song of the same name which was composed and sung by the artist. The images of a swan on a lake, blooming cherry trees and the harmonic sounds, are in discord with the text of the song, which is about a fatal car crash caused by a driver's failure to pay attention. Only when seen from the perspective of the camera panning above a street is a connection to the lyrics established.

In Guido van der Werve's Nummer drie.take step fall (2004) passages accompanied by classical music, and silent sequences alternate with one another, as does rest with movement. Like a sonata, the work is structured in three parts: A dance company and an Asian fast food restaurant in the same building, a street at night and a dancing ballerina in a park. The grimly portrayed everyday scenes are repeatedly interrupted by seemingly random sequences.

In Christoph Brech's video The Wind that shakes the Barley (2008), we see nameless tombstones of deceased, unbaptized children surrounded by grass blowing, sometimes more intensely, sometimes less, in the wind. Although the ambient sounds are missing, one has the impression of being able to hear the hissing of the wind. The suddenly introduced Irish folk song transmits a melancholic sentiment and appears irritating as it is simultaneously played forwards, and more softly, backwards.

The exhibited works were selected by LeÛn Krempel.

With works by Francis Alÿs, Hans Op de Beeck, Christoph Brech, David Claerbout, Tacita Dean, Rodney Graham, Gary Hill, Teresa Hubbard & Alexander Birchler, Tim Lee, Christian Marclay, Nira Pereg, Anri Sala, Wolfgang Tillmans and Guido van der Werve.

A catalogue will be published by Hatje Cantz; with texts by Patrizia Dander, Okwui Enwezor, Ingvild Goetz, Sarah Haugeneder, Nina Holm, Leon Krempel, Karsten Löckemann, Julienne Lorz, Carla Schulz-Hoffmann, Rainald Schumacher, Susanne Touw, Katharina Vossenkuhl, Eva Wattolik, and Ulrich Wilmes.

Tacita Dean, Sound Mirrors, 1999, Still, 1-Kanal-16mm-Filminstallation (s/w, Ton). 7’, Courtesy Sammlung Goetz.

Nira Pereg, Sabbath 2008, 2008, Still, 1-Kanal-Videoinstallation (Farbe, Ton), 7’ 12’’ Loop, Courtesy Sammlung Goetz.

Teresa Hubbard und Alexander Birchler, Gregor’s Room II, 1998/99, Still, 1-Kanal-Videoinstallation (Farbe, ohne Ton), 5’ 25’’, Courtesy Sammlung Goetz.

Tim Lee, The Goldberg Variations, Aria, BWV 988, 1741, Johann Sebastian Bach (Glenn Gould, 1981), 2007, Still, 2-Kanal-Videoinstallation (Farbe, ohne Ton), 3’, Courtesy Sammlung Goetz.

David Claerbout, Vietnam, 1967, near Duc Pho (reconstruction after Hiromichi Mine), 2001, Still, 1-Kanal-Videoinstallation (Farbe, ohne Ton), 3' 39", Edition 3, Courtesy Sammlung Goetz, © David Claerbout / VG Bild-Kunst, Bonn.

Film and Video Art from the Goetz Collection at Haus der Kunst

Tracey Moffatt, Night Cries – A Rural Tragedy, 1989, Still, 1-Kanal Video, (Farbe, Ton), 16' 34'', Courtesy Sammlung Goetz.

Juan Manuel Echavarría, Bocas de ceniza, 2003, Still, 1-Kanal-Videoprojektion (Farbe, Ton), 18' 06'', Edition 3, Courtesy Sammlung Goetz.

Juan Manuel Echavarría, Bocas de ceniza, 2003, Still, 1-Kanal-Videoprojektion (Farbe, Ton), 18' 06'', Edition 3, Courtesy Sammlung Goetz.

Omer Fast, A Tank Translated, 2002, Installation view Fiktion oder Realität?, Fri-Art, Center for Contemporary Art, Fribourg, 2003, 4-Kanal-Videoinstallation (Farbe, Ton) auf 4 Monitoren mit 4 Sockeln, ca. 4'-13', Edition 6, Courtesy Sammlung Goetz.

William Kentridge, Tide Table, 2003/2004, Still, 1-Kanal-Video (s/w, Ton), 8'. Edition 8, Courtesy Sammlung Goetz.

William Kentridge, Tide Table, 2003/2004, Still, 1-Kanal-Video (s/w, Ton), 8'. Edition 8, Courtesy Sammlung Goetz.

Mona Hatoum, Measures of Distance, 1988, Still, 1-Kanal-Video (Farbe, Ton), auf Monitor, 15' 26'', unlimitierte Edition, Courtesy Sammlung Goetz.

Hans Op de Beeck, Loss (the sculptural video installation), 2004, Still, 1-Kanal-Videoinstallation (s/w, Ton), 11', Unikat, Courtesy Sammlung Goetz, © Hans op de Beeck / VG Bild-Kunst, Bonn.

 

Haus der Kunst
Prinzregentenstrasse 1
+ 49 0 89 21127-113
Munich
Haus der Kunst air raid shelter
Bocas de Ceniza.
Collection Goetz in Haus der Kunst

April 9, 2011-September 4, 2011

Bocas de Ceniza marks the beginning of the cooperation between the collection Goetz and Haus der Kunst. From now through 2014, Ingvild Goetz will regularly present works from her collection of film and media art in the 14 cabinet-like rooms of Haus der Kunst's air raid shelter.

In its first presentation, Bocas de Ceniza responds to the theme given by the premises: The selected films deal with war experiences and the consequences of war, reflecting these both from the perspective of the military, as well as from the perspective of individual civilian survivors.

Psychological effects The selection of works does not allow a clear distinction between films about perpetrators on the one hand and about victims on the other. Rather, the members of the military and civilian population have one significant element in common: Both suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder for years after the war is over and are left alone with the psychological effects of their experiences.

Post-traumatic stress disorder hinders those who took part in acts of war or were witness to them from finding their way back into everyday life. This is the central theme of several films presented here: Survivors, whose faces are marked by this, talk about their memories of a massacre on the Columbian population in a recitative composed by themselves (Bocas de Ceniza by Echavarría); a former sniper spends his nights playing war games on a PlayStation — sleepless because he constantly sees the face of his first victim before his inner eye (Anri Sala); villagers in Rwanda try to take up their lives as farmers again following the massacre of the Tutsis by the Hutus (Marcel Odenbach).

Narrative plots Some directors present two parallel plots, contrasting war and ordinary life. Parallel to the sleepless sniper, whose memories of his first victim give him no peace, a lover of ornamental fish talks about his fear of silence,afraid that his fish will die in the middle of the night because the loud aquarium oxygen pump will suddenly stop working (Anri Sala). Soldiers describe memories of an ambush, while a matching image from a training software program uploads; parallel to this a military instructor presents advantages of such software with which sand storms and different times of the day can be simulated (Harun Farocki). The police mug shot of an IRA terrorist is accompanied by his self-characterization using stereotypes of the offenders ("I am barbaric ... I am essentially evil"); parallel to this the same speaker quotes a passage from a travel guide that praises the beauty of the Irish landscape (Willie Doherty).

Often the victims of or participants in war speak in front of the camera. This immediacy of the narrative is shattered by aesthetic devices: through the translation of memory and trauma into recitatives, through backgrounds of Baroque or electro music. The refraction creeps in subtly and unexpectedly. In A Tank Translated (Omer Fast), for instance, only the subtitles change: words are added, disappear or change: "cannon" becomes "camera", "tank" becomes "take", "shoot" becomes "shot", and "passes" becomes "poses". Suddenly the language of war is the language of show business. What underlies is a text in which a pop or rock star describes his experience on stage: the exhilaration of standing in front of a crowd that can become addictive, the masculine gestures, and the boastfulness.

The film by Sven Johne on the last weeks of the GDR is cleverly constructed. In a room cluttered with studio equipment an interviewer (in half-shadow) and an eyewitness (professionally lit) sit facing. The eyewitness never gets a chance to speak. It is only the interviewer who uses words to evoke the heated atmosphere of 1989 and the Monday demonstrations in Leipzig. The "interviewee" struggles to maintain his composure. The observer asks himself how much credibility an image produced by professional television cameras can have when the eyewitness is not even consulted.

Family life In the films by Mona Hatoum and Tracey Moffatt war and uprootedness are the case history of family life. Both films have autobiographical elements and in both the mother plays a central role. Mona Hatoum lives in exile in London. In letters that address the differences between sexes, marriage or yearning for the daughter, the mother answers her daughter's questions. A female voice reads aloud from these letters, while superimposed Arabic handwriting appears in front of a background of photographs. These photos depict the mother in intimate domestic situations, in her bath, therewith representing the closeness that is possible between mother and daughter.

In the work of the Australian Tracey Moffatt feelings are mixed. The mother, an aged woman with fair skin, sits in a wheelchair. The daughter is her nurse — a dark-skinned Aborigine who was taken from her natural parents and raised in a foster family as part of the government's foster care program. As an adult she struggles with the emotional consequences of this uprooting and her feelings for her foster mother are characterized by both love and hate: To continue to care for her is just as unbearable as to be freed from this responsibility through her mother's death.

Landscapes William Kentridge records the changes that war inflicts on the coastline. On the balcony of a hotel instead of tourists with binoculars are soldiers with field glasses. The sea washes emaciated cows up onto the beach. At the end, normal beach life returns and with it a man in a pinstriped suit reading newspapers. The landscape is allegorical. War comes and goes like the tides; the sea itself remains unchanging. The film consists of animated sequences of charcoal and pastel drawings that are typical of Kentridge's work.

War and landscape are also the central themes of David Claerbout's and Hans Op de Beeck's work. Claerbout has coloured in a historical photograph from the Vietnam War. Only the light above the wooded slope changes, thereby lengthening the moment in which the shot-down aircraft falls from the sky. Op de Beeck shows the wounds that war can inflict on a landscape: All that remains of trees in a Baroque-styled garden are their charred trunks.

With faces of the dead that dissolve like ink drawings and disappear down the drain, and a still life with fruit that, in a time lapse, becomes covered in gray-green mould, Óscar Muñoz and Sam Taylor Wood create images of universal transience. The works were selected by Ingvild Goetz.

With Hans Op de Beeck (Loss [the sculptural video installation], 2004), David Claerbout (Vietnam, 1967, near Duc Pho [reconstruction after Hiromichi Mine], 2001), Willie Doherty (They're All the Same, 1991), Juan Manuel Echavarría (Bocas de Ceniza, 2003), Harun Farocki (Immersion, 2009), Omer Fast (A Tank Translated, 2002), Mona Hatoum (Measures of Distance, 1988), Sven Johne (Tears of the Eyewitness, 2009), William Kentridge (Tide Table, 2003/2004), Tracey Moffatt (Night Cries – A Rural Tragedy, 1989), Óscar Muñoz (Biografías, 2002), Marcel Odenbach (In stillen Teichen lauern Krokodile, 2002/2004), Anri Sala (Nocturnes, 1999), Sam Taylor-Wood (Still Life, 2001), and Zhou Hongxiang (The Red Flag Flies, 2002).

Air Raid Shelter History The construction of an air raid shelter was planned when the Haus der Deutschen Kunst (House of German Art) was built between 1933 and 1937. This plan, regarded as one of the first official measures taken directly after Hitler seized power, was to condition the public for an impending war.

The 292-meter square symmetrical space — divided up into cabinet-like elements — was made of reinforced concrete and, with its three meter thick ceiling, could provide shelter for 300 people. According to Paul Ludwig Troost, a building was to be considered a synthesis of the arts and serve a self-portraying and representative function. For this reason materials that were selected in the shelter's interior were also used in other parts of the Haus der Deutschen Kunst. Thus, the air shelter's shower and toilet areas were tiled with the same kind of ceramic tiles — still visible today — used in the sanitary facilities for exhibition hall visitors.

Beginning on March 18, 1944 air raids also took place during daytime in Munich. Because the Haus der Deutschen Kunst was open to the public until at least end of November 1944, it can be assumed that the air raid shelter was used as such by both visitors and employees. As of 1941 paintings and art objects that were part of Adolf Hitler's private collection and those belonging to members of the Haus der Deutschen Kunst's board of directors were also stored here.

After the Second World War, the air raid shelter was rented by various firms and institutions as a storage facility. As of 1974 the Bavarian Red Cross stored material there for disaster control. For the last decade the shelter has been used as a depot for excavation finds by the Archäologische Staatssammlung (State Archeological Collection).

The catalogue is published in English and German by Hatje Cantz; with essays by Ingvild Goetz, Chris Dercon, Sabine Brantl, Karin Hunsicker, Gregor Jansen, Katrin Kaschadt, Nicolas de Oliveira/Nicola Oxley, Volker Pantenburg, Jan Seewald, Susanne Touw, Stephan Urbaschek, Isabelle Verreet, Eva Wattolik, and Ulrich Wilmes.

 

Tracey Moffatt, Night Cries – A Rural Tragedy, 1989, Still, 1-Kanal Video, (Farbe, Ton), 16' 34'', Courtesy Sammlung Goetz.

 

Ingvild Goetz, Courtesy Sammlung Goetz, Foto: Philippe Chancel, Paris.

Janine Antoni, Touch, 2002, Film still, Courtesy Sammlung Goetz, © Janine Antoni.

Fiona Tan, Saint Sebastian, 2001, Filmstill, Courtesy Sammlung Goetz, © Fiona Tan.

Motion and Media Art from Sammlung Goetz at ZKM in Karlsruhe

Nathalie Djurberg, The Experiment (Forest), 2009, Courtesy Sammlung Goetz.

Matthew Barney, CREMASTER Cycle, 2007, Installation view of the exhibtion, Matthew Barney Sammlung, Goetz, München (2007/2008), © VG Bild-Kunst, Bonn 2010, Photo: Nic Tenwiggenhorn, Berlin.

Paul Chan, Recessionale I 2008, Courtesy Sammlung Goetz.

 

ZKM | Museum of Contemporary Art
ZKM Foyer
Lorenzstraße 19
+ 49(0)721-8100-0
Karlsruhe
fast forward 2. The Power of Motion
Media Art Sammlung Goetz

June 18-October 3, 2010

Video-based works are already firmly established as a means of expression in our era. The development of generally valid social questions from personal perspectives is the starting point of many works in this collection. A great number of artists represented in the Sammlung Goetz do not produce their works for the "white cube" of the museum, but rather, for the cinema. For this reason, the exhibition will be accompanied by a film program shown in the media theater.

fast forward 2, seven years after fast forward, shows a range of new video acquisitions from the internationally renowned private collection of Ingvild Goetz from Munich. With her impressive collection, originating from the 1960s, she has put together a museum-quality panorama of contemporary art as comprehensive as it is personal. Ingvild Goetz was one of few private collectors to become involved in video art early on, and consistently. She led the way with this position, as video art deals with technically complex works that, often very costly to care for and install. Over the years, Ingvild Goetz has built a media art collection regarded as one of the most important in the world.

To do justice to the collection, the museum building built in 1993 by Herzog/de Meuron in Munich was expanded with BASE103 in 2004. The collection exhibitions are a plea for an openness of perception and a steady readjusting of thoughts and notions. ZKM offers for the second time, the opportunity to see a representative selection of media works from the collection: presented will be roughly 60 videos, video installations, and films from thirty artists. Focus of the exhibited works is current productions from 2000 to today. It is the collector's personal concern to show also works by the "youngest generation."

The exhibition fast forward 2. The Power of Motion shows at the ZKM | Museum of Contemporary Art, a representative selection of new acquisitions to the video and media art of the internationally renowned Collection Ingvild Goetz in Munich.

Within the context of the thematic arc of dynamics and movement, fast forward 2. The Power of Motion shows, for example, installations and films by Matthew Barney and Jochen Kuhn, who allow a form of private myth to arise in their works. For Paul Chan, narrative is at the forefront of his animated videos while in the works by Christoph Brech, movement becomes a poetic gesture, and in those by Fiona Tan, in contrast, the energy of movement can only be guessed at in the tension. The spatial installation by Nathalie Djurberg, which could be seen in 2009 at the Venice Biennale, is definitely a special highlight: here, through their own movements within the installation, the viewer creates a relation to the production process in the stop-motion technique of the videos. However, many artists in the Collection Goetz produce their works for more than just the “white cube” of the museum, that is, also for the cinema. For this reason, a film program accompanies the exhibition in July and September.

Whereas the works for the exhibition fast forward in 2003 were selected based on the focus of thematizing our accelerated society’s changed viewing habits, The Power of Motion seven years later explores the power of movement and acceleration, or its opposite, the potential for deceleration. Our society — seeming to move exclusively and increasingly in fast-forward — exists in a world shaped by a high degree of mobility: global commerce by day-trading, mobile workplaces, permanent networking via virtual communication structures, streaming on demand, and a near steady availability of personal information — everything seems retrievable, simultaneously, always and everywhere. And economic and political living conditions force people, too, to be in motion: between cities, countries, and continents.

With her impressive collection originating from the 1960s, Ingvild Goetz has gathered together an extensive and personal panorama of contemporary art, of museum grade. As one of the few private collectors to do so, she became engaged early on in the medium of video. Thus, emerging over the years was a collection of media art that is among the most important at an international level. The spectrum of her collection activity corresponds with the multiplicity of media of today’s artistic forms of expression. Along with drawings, graphics, paintings, and photographs, a clear emphasis is on video and film works, spatial installations, and multiple projections.

Screening schedule (ZKM Media Theater): July 14, 6pm: Wilhelm Sasnal. July 21, 6pm: Ulrike Ottinger. July 28, 6pm: Jochen Kuhn.

Exhibition curators are: Peter Weibel, Gregor Jansen, Andreas Beitin und Ingvild Goetz, Stephan Urbaschek.

Exhibition artists include: AES+F; Francis Alÿs; Janine Antoni; Matthew Barney; Ulla von Brandenburg; Christoph Brech; Ergin Cavusoglu; Paul Chan; David Claerbout; Nathalie Djurberg; Stan Douglas; Juan Manuel Echavarria; Dominique Gonzalez-Foerster; Rodney Graham; Isaac Julien; Jesper Just; Mike Kelley; Kimsooja; Jochen Kuhn (Film Program); Óscar Muñoz; Marcel Odenbach; Hans Op de Beeck; Ulrike Ottinger (Film Program); Mary Reid Kelley; Robin Rhode; Julian Rosefeldt; Aïda Ruilova; Wilhelm Sasnal (Film Program); Christine Schulz; Laurie Simmons, Frank Stürmer; Fiona Tan; Ryan Trecartin; Fudong Yang; and Liang Zhao.

Catalogue: Hatje Cantz Verlag publishes a two-volume work catalogue for the exhibition, edited by Ingvild Goetz and Stephan Urbaschek (ca. 320 pages, with numerous illustrations). The catalogue documents the collection’s expanded inventory. In addition, available to accompany the exhibition is a brochure with explanatory texts about the individual works on display.

 

Jochen Kuhn, Neulich 2 [Recently 2], 2000, Film still, Courtesy Sammlung Goetz.

Christoph Brech, Break, 2004, Courtesy Sammlung Goetz, © VG Bild-Kunst, Bonn 2010.