searching for the key
searching for the key
Weitmannsee, near Augsburg. Where clouds go to admire themselves
on earth as it is in heaven
Season’s Greetings and a Happy, Healthy, and Peaceful New Year!
Walking around Augsburg, I came across this intricate, mysterious scales: beautifully balanced, surrounded by watches, clocks, wall clocks, jewellery, it took me to another dimension. Waiting for my watch-strap to be changed, the words “on balance” came to mind, life as a balancing act, time weighing on all of us…
When I asked for permission to take a photo, the kind owners related the scales to the ancient Egyptian Goddess of Ma’at, responsible for weighing the souls of the departed against a feather. If the soul was found to be heavier than the feather, it was denied access to the underworld.
I left the shop lighter, and full of ideas.
Walking around the old city in Augsburg, I came across wonderful images revealed by peeling plaster.
crowding the city memory lanes
Photo: 29 November 2014 in Augsburg. First Advent, the Engelspiel, at the marketplace.
There is a video of this event (Engelspiel) from previous years here
Also a description of the Christmas market, or Christkindlesmarkt, as it is called, here
Inequality and Memory
The day before Anselm Kiefer was born, the house next door to his parents’ was completely destroyed. Only a sewing machine had remained intact. This event is linked, in several articles I came across, to his painter’s vision, his choice of subject, painting technique, and use of materials.
It is as if he still breathes the dust he breathed in as a newborn; still lives among the rubble he creates in his painting/sculptures; still looks for the diverse, as if bomb-strewn, materials for the surfaces of his constructions. There is a correspondence, an analogy, an equivalence between his original circumstances and his continued practice and vision in his work. A way of reconstructing memory, making it tangible; of keeping alive an event by reproducing its aftermath, expanding it in time. The Guardian’s Jonathan Jones would agree to this, as in his preview of the Royal Academy exhibition, he describes Kiefer’s show as
“an astonishing look at the awful burden of history”.
From the moment in time to expanding time, Kiefer’s objects do not stop this process of ‘remembering’ even when ‘finished’: the clay he uses shrinks, crumbles, and drops off; dried bits of material disintegrate, fall down, and become litter on the gallery floor to be returned to him. Even when the works don’t disintegrate, Kiefer ‘damages’ them deliberately, as if the state of being damaged, used, wounded, is the reality of painting. Here is where Kader Attia’s concern with re-appropriation of materials comes alive. Making/finding the rubble and turning it into a work of art, then turning this/letting this grow into rubble again, only to use the bits that come off in new work. Like the particles of the cosmos, on a microscopic level, Kiefer’s materials, and creations, belong together, morph, develop, die, and are reborn to a new form.
If this sounds benign, it is because Kiefer’s work reminds us to see it this way; it is a meditation on the ongoing, day to day processes of growth, decay, and regeneration. War, though, a main concern for Kiefer, and our time, is one of the most urgent and sudden, both violently disruptive and accelerative processes there are. When we linger in front of, or indeed around, a Kiefer piece, the terror and horror of the destruction of war; the awe of the immensity of scale come to mind: the holocaust (for Kiefer, perhaps the most personal reference); Afghanistan, Iraq, Libya, Congo, Gaza, Syria, Hiroshima… The beauty of the arrangements, of the depictions, and the terror of the depicted resonate with Rilke’s terrible angel which seems to be haunting Kiefer’s work.
So, inequality found in the polarities and the equivalences: Heaven and Earth; the moment and eternity; life and death; beauty and terror; growth and decay; memory and catastrophe. Claudia Pritchard, in The Independent, noting polarities in Kiefer’s work, quotes the claim of his being, arguably, ‘our greatest living artist’. Kiefer’s handling of the topic of memory as tangible and ever present will most probably ensure the continuing truth of this statement. Like the sunflower symbol he uses in his work, a head full of blackened seeds and beauty, Kiefer’s work contains the seeds of its own perpetuation. Pritchard quotes the exhibition curator, Kathleen Soriano,
“What I want people to take away from this show is not only the knowledge that he is a great painter, but also that he has great relevance.” Indeed Kiefer, she adds, is looking, like all of us, with great anxiety at today’s turbulent world. “He says you have to remember that history is cyclical.”
Recently, I revisited some of Anselm Kiefer’s work at the “Art Museum Walter” at the “Glass Palace”, an industrial monument in Augsburg: Eleven ‘paintings’ and two sculptures on show. While they are not new — forty per cent of the Royal Academy work is said to have been created for the show — the Walter collection displays excellent work firmly rooted in time and memory, while remaining open to possibilities of interpretation (the photos included here are from the Art Museum Walter) .
A privately and expertly run gallery, Kunstmuseum Walter, is housed in the Glass Palace — a monument to the past of the textile industry — which aims to show history being alive in the present,
“[involving] a continual confrontation with the present. The concept of a living museum is an essential part of the TIM [Textile Industry Museum] programme. In the textile machine section, former textile workers demonstrate the machines with an authenticity not to be found elsewhere.”
Here too is an equivalence: the metaphor of the sewing machine from Anselm Kiefer’s past finds an echo in Germany’s textile industry surviving destruction. Interesting to note that, in this context, some have referred to Augsburg as the ‘Manchester of Germany’, echoing the transition from a crafts-/guild-based industry to one of machine-based mass production, including the exploitation, poverty, and social upheaval this involved. In this juxtaposition, Kiefer’s work, in bringing together the themes of inequality and memory, continues to weave anew the fabric of history.
If you are not in Augsburg, or London, you need not worry. In Kent, there is an exhibition to console your artistic longings: my daughter Maria Pierides’ solo show at Creek Creative Studios in Faversham. 23 — 28 September 2014. Rush there, the Studios are open only till 4 pm on Sunday the 28th!
This post is part of a series of articles on the theme of Inequality, written for Blog Action Day 2014:
*Photos: Stella Pierides, Kunstmuseum Walter
golden ratio –
songs and salvia wafting
through the cool air
NaHaiWriMo prompt: golden
Photo: International Augsburg Jazz Summer, Botanic Gardens, Augsburg, 2014.
In November last year, I moved to a place near the river Schmutter, in the Greater Augsburg area. Some of you may remember my posts, and pictures, on ‘Leaving Ammersee’ from last year. Given the spectacular Ammersee lake and those sunsets – those sunsets! – it was difficult to imagine then how I would take to my new surroundings. Indeed, it has taken time for me to settle – still many unpacked boxes in the cellar! – but at least I have started going out for walks in the vicinity.
Almost next door, there are the Schmutter meadows: a nature reserve marshland by the river Schmutter (a tributary to the Danube), which is flooded several times each year. The soil is enriched by the flooding, and meadows become home to numerous rare plants, birds, and other animals.
And here, in the local marshland, its grassy paths, sludgy mud, numerous water channels, sluices, and flooded pools, the river itself twisting and turning, I have found beauty, again! This is a beauty I can neither own nor grasp in one go, i.e., in one picture, in one season, or one year. It is a beauty that develops, changes; a fragile, weather-beaten, marshland eco-system that I can only experience piecemeal on my walks through it.
If you have the time, take a look at this picture and haiku, imagine walking by the Schmutter. I will be posting more pictures from this area and writing haiku responding to my walks in the future. Am I trying to make this area ‘mine?’ Perhaps I am! You can come along for the experience.
Better still, choose an area near your own home, observe it, write about or take pictures of it, and turn it into your ‘most beautiful thing.’
This post is written in response to Fiona Robyn’s call for writers to write (and blog) about what they consider to be their most beautiful thing: a ‘blogsplash’ . In the context of her launching her new novel ‘The Most beautiful Thing,’ Fiona is making the novel available for free on the 24th and 25th of April 2012. Visit her blog for details here