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DEUTSCH
Artist talk with Shaheen Merali and Clemens Krauss
May 2005 (fragments)
M:
What brings us back together, in a way, is the fact that our paths
crossed a while ago in London and that crossing was mediated by the
co-curator of Documenta11, Sarat Maharaj.
What we would like to have now is a discussion about your work. I would
like to throw in some questions - you have asked to stand in front of
your work, which has an influence of course on the way we discuss it.
I think talking about art, rather than writing about art or simply
hearing about art, is one of the great pleasures one has in thinking
about what images mean. Images, in a sense, are saturating our world and
living conditions, in a way that we have learned to call post-modernity.
This is partly due to the way we look at images and understand images
and construct our reality from that.
In that sense an artists’ role has become much more important, because
they help us to understand how an image is constructed and why it is
constructed and how it comes back to a society which becomes the
audience. So, as an opening gambit, what I would like to ask is for you
to give me some basic remarks about your work. What is a work?
K:
I think if we are talking about work it is important to stress that my
work, for example, is more a process than a completed work. The
paintings here are only part of my work or, let’s call it, the field I’m
working within. You can see an equivalent of the process-related method
in the paintings, which are unfinished figures juxtaposed with cuttings
from texts.
The texts are from an ongoing collection of my own perceptions, notes
and writings. They derive from my experience and exploration and also
the notion of the work itself. On the other hand we have the material
presence of the paint on the surface, which becomes a very different
element.
M:
You talk about the text as text rather as an image and the image as an
image. So there is a duality, in that you see the whole image as divided
by text and image.
K:
It is very important that you mention that. Of course I’m playing with
the notion of so called dualism. I have been doing it since the series
‘Teil eines langsamen Selbstportraits (Part of a Slow Self-Portrait)’. I
think in the painting it’s rather a formal duality; the flat printed,
almost faded text and the thick fleshy visceral paint.
The texts refer to the body as well as this western concept of the
division between body and mind. Since I consider not only the content of
the text I choose for the image but also the type of fonts and
characters as well, the text becomes necessarily an equal visual part of
the image.
M:
The images are profoundly about ambiguity and - especially if you
consider the facial features – about the ambiguous identity of men. Then
there are the texts which also refer to the body. Why this specific
selection? What kind of idea does this impose on an image? What are you
trying to suggest?
K:
The notion of body is referred to here as both the natural- scientific –
let’s call it the human body - and the body in a wider sense, for
example; as a model for universal phenomena. These texts refer to those
notions as well as trying to lead towards the idea of the division we
were talking about before. In this context, which I find particularly
interesting, I try to rethink human beings as, for example; sexual
beings, identities and bodies. This discontinuity is reflected in
deciding upon the specific text cuttings as well as in the assembly of
unfinished, unstable painted figures. Of course these decisions are
sometimes also aesthetic ones. For instance; which parts of the body,
which poses, which series of words, which particular letters would fit
into the image? This sounds like a banal decision, though it is very
important since the text is not a subtitle to the images.
M:
I am thinking about the sensuality of the use of paint, the way the
flesh is manipulated and how we encounter it. The skin as the largest
organ of the body holds the flesh inside but here we have some sort of
outer-skin experience, where the flesh is literally coming out. In
addition, because the clothes are painted with similar brushstrokes,
they also bear resemblance to skin and the stripping of the flesh.
What would you say about this sensuality and about the text, in which it
is also represented?
K:
One of the most important reasons to remain with painting is the
material quality of the oil paint. It became increasingly necessary to
employ the paint with its organic fleshy character. The impasto
application can be a reference to the stripping of the skin and flesh
you were talking about before. Modelling and operating with the material
is a very surgical procedure.
M:
How is your surgical background influencing your paintings?
K:
Basically I see my medical foundations and my time at the hospital as
part of my artistic education so obviously biological-scientific issues
do come up in my current work. Some of the paintings – particularly the
body parts – can be read as reminiscent of surgical accesses which you
see in textbooks and which indicate how one crosses the border and dives
into the interior.
M:
I think of the figures in the paintings as young men. I find the
garments quite interesting; short sleeves, jackets open. There is also
something of a sexual predication within the work. There is a sort of
cruising-mentality, the ambiguity of a series of bodies waiting to be
picked up. There is something to be said here about young masculinity
and about the arousal of waiting and finally about the repetitive nature
of the way you have done it again and again, as an experience.
K:
The paintings are basically about body and perception, about the use of
the body as both a model and a place-holder for investigations, and
about how society is influenced by visual experience. The way that out
of single bodies a situation of many bodies is constructed causes a kind
of inherent sexuality. You could call this, of course, the sexuality of
waiting. Human beings are sexual beings, after all. Since I - or let’s
say- my body functions as a sort of model for the figures, they do seem
to be young men. But they are not self portraits and since the paintings
are blurred images, the figures remain not always recognizable in terms
of sex or age. They are, in a way, anonymous figures, it doesn’t matter
who they are. It is more about the situation of constructed groups and
positions and how a tension is traced and how they are placed in the
work.
M:
To me, the pieces bear a specific awareness of how the figures are
placed. Since they are you but they are not self-portraits - this is
what Cindy Sherman referred to in her photographs as: ‘They are of me
but they are not self-portraits’. She becomes a model for the camera and
here you are suggesting that you become a model of the paintings. There
is also something to say about the use of paint. The paint here is not
clean - it is messy. It looks likes it induces some sort of fear. So how
do you take yourself as a metaphor for masculinity, availability,
sensuality? How does this relate to your self and the self-images and
the image on the canvas?
K:
First of all, you mentioned availability, it is a quite practical
argument; there is nothing more available at any time than one’s own
body.
Again, I make use of this availability of the body as a reference point,
from which I start my investigation. I think it is inevitable to reflect
on one’s own situation when you are making use of your own body in that
way. It is telling about the situation of me in my time, there are
references to, for example, politics and youth culture and of course
reflections on oneself as a sexual being. But the formation of the
bodies in the paintings, have much more to do with images from external
sources rather than my-self. Of course, I’m posing and juxtaposing
myself in to the ideas. But it is not necessarily important that it is
me, it could be someone else, too. I think that is different to Cindy
Sherman’s work.
M:
Every image is to some extent unfinished. For instance, all of them
remain legless. The legs are somehow unimportant or not considered as a
part of the body. This repetitive insistence becomes a pattern. What
does this pattern say about you?
K:
The whole work is an ongoing process. Things are developing and
therefore changing. Of course the paintings are also part of this
process. You have the cuttings of the text and the unfinished paintings.
This is inherent to the work and therefore inherent to the paintings.
Hence terms like unfinished or imperfect take on another meaning.
Although the paintings look like they were done in a spontaneous,
gestured way they are quite conceptually set up. I already have an image
in mind prior to starting to paint.
In this context there is also something to say about the decision of
when a painting is finished or complete. This is clearly one of the most
difficult questions since you could always continue or you could always
stop. This is in fact a space of time, a period rather than a point in
time.
M:
Do you have a phobia of legs?
K:
I don’t know whether I have a phobia of legs. But I know that it
wouldn’t make the paintings more complete if they were more ‘elaborate’
in terms of their faces, arms or legs. This is more about the
‘subversion’ of the initial image.
M:
I am very interested in the idea of being subversive within a canon. I
want a complete picture and you deliver an incomplete picture
deliberately. In that it becomes a kind of narrative I have to struggle
with. In struggling with that narrative I become interested in it. What
is the narrative behind it? There is a formal concern, but what drives
that formal decision making beyond the fact that it becomes a different
image? What would you say about the reason to come to such a formal
decision?
K:
I was trying to avoid the word “composition” but if you look to the
white field of an empty canvas and the order of figures then you have to
take compositional terms into account. On the other hand, it is in a way
about the trauma of the body, too. This has to do with the – lets call
it – brutal use of the paint and in consequence the open, rough surface
which reminds one of the flesh turned inside out.
M:
It reminds me of limbless victims of land mines.
K:
This is one possible association. I wouldn’t reduce it to limbless-ness.
The incompleteness refers more to the open process.
M:
How much is an artist reflecting the conditions of his times? How do
images constructed consciously or subconsciously also reflect a wider
issue?
K:
The images and the way they are constructed refer inevitably to my own
time and what happens around me. Basically we are moving towards a
visual rather than a textual culture. Images are dominating our
perception and of course my own perception, too. I’m very much
interested in that fact. I usually choose images from the media and when
I pick up images from politics, fashion or the like, I start to re-enact
those situations. The paintings come out of these re-enacted situations.
These are very often images we all know but as a painting you wouldn’t
recognize them since I sort of mimicked those images with my body.
That’s what I’ve meant with the subversive. They become transformed and
recombined or even subverted in the way they went through my perception
and reflection. So I cannot withdraw myself from the contemporary.
M:
How would the work read outside of a gallery? You also do more
performance based and more experimental work and therefore work which is
much less available to a buying public. What is the difference of doing
work in totally public spaces or inside a commercial gallery? I think
contemporary gallery spaces have a certain way of making a market
progress, however it is, at the end of the day, a commercial constraint.
I would say certain spaces advocate certain kinds of work.
K:
I think if you are planning a project you always have to take the
environmental context into account in the first place. This does
absolutely not mean producing a particular work for a particular
audience.
There is work which functions fabulously in a public space but would be
doomed to fail documented in the white cube concept and the other way
round. Naturally commercial galleries have their constraints which one
has to understand. In a similar way museums and institutions also have
to keep their number of visitors in order to continue being supported.
Finally I think it is a crucial condition for contemporary art that
beside institutions there are private collectors who are interested in
art and artists.
The only question for me is: who is smarter, the artists or the market? |