K8 Hardy
25 September > 30 October 2010
Opening: 24 September 2010
25 September > 30 October 2010
Opening: 24 September 2010
Patti Smith & Christoph Schlingensief
22 June > 18 September 2010
Opening: 25 June 2010, 6-9 pm
22 June > 18 September 2010
Opening: 25 June 2010, 6-9 pm
Brandt Junceau, April 2010:
I work at heads so that I won’t be alone. I want their eye contact. So why not portraits? That was a never-enough thing. Nothing was ever enough. Nothing from life was ever enough, it always involved borrowing and depiction, which some reason I find utterly intolerable, but these heads without sitters are all of an instant, all made-new and all mine.
Although I stare, I am really no observer. The heads are not observed, and how could they be, when there can be no sitter, and everything is the model. I can’t turn away from my work, to a model. To look away from the stuff in my hands, for even an instant, is an unbearable interruption in contact.
All my work begins in wet clay, which is our best next-thing to flesh. I go so far, and make a mold. Not a particularly good one, I’m inpatient, and I don’t use the molds for replication. The mold is rather a plateau from which to make fresh departures. I work from plateau to plateau, rather than state to state. At the top of the climb the single image passed hand to hand, mold to successive mold, yields to a “contact sheet” of many inflections, each unique, but all derived from a single mold, the last.
But before that, no sketches, no models, and no states. No technique, really. I don’t like even the thought of it, because my process is purely a matter of attaining identity. Perfection can’t have anything to do with it, but integration, by degrees, and coherence, by repetition, trial, error and destruction, does. The material is a flickering mirror. The piece is realized when, at last, nervous tension infuses the dormant features, and a wakened presence returns our gaze.
I work at heads so that I won’t be alone. I want their eye contact. So why not portraits? That was a never-enough thing. Nothing was ever enough. Nothing from life was ever enough, it always involved borrowing and depiction, which some reason I find utterly intolerable, but these heads without sitters are all of an instant, all made-new and all mine.
Although I stare, I am really no observer. The heads are not observed, and how could they be, when there can be no sitter, and everything is the model. I can’t turn away from my work, to a model. To look away from the stuff in my hands, for even an instant, is an unbearable interruption in contact.
All my work begins in wet clay, which is our best next-thing to flesh. I go so far, and make a mold. Not a particularly good one, I’m inpatient, and I don’t use the molds for replication. The mold is rather a plateau from which to make fresh departures. I work from plateau to plateau, rather than state to state. At the top of the climb the single image passed hand to hand, mold to successive mold, yields to a “contact sheet” of many inflections, each unique, but all derived from a single mold, the last.
But before that, no sketches, no models, and no states. No technique, really. I don’t like even the thought of it, because my process is purely a matter of attaining identity. Perfection can’t have anything to do with it, but integration, by degrees, and coherence, by repetition, trial, error and destruction, does. The material is a flickering mirror. The piece is realized when, at last, nervous tension infuses the dormant features, and a wakened presence returns our gaze.
Jörg Koopmann
opening 6 May 2010
6 pm - 9 pm
opening 6 May 2010
6 pm - 9 pm
opening
Galerie Sonja Junkers
24 February 2010
6 pm - 9 pm
Galerie Sonja Junkers
24 February 2010
6 pm - 9 pm