Jens Asthoff

  • Inge Krause

    The exhibition’s title is prosaic, even a bit curt: “Something to Look At”—nothing more, nothing less. But taken at its word, it is quite apposite: To look at Inge Krause’s pictures is to experience a sort of purified vision. Her nonrepresentational painting focuses the gaze on a concentrated phenomenology of nuanced color. For this show, she has juxtaposed two older works—Ohne Titel (Farbverlauf) (untitled [Color Sequence]), 2002–2007, and Ohne Titel (Farbverlauf), 2002)—with pieces created in 2015. This illuminating juxtaposition revealed the constancy of her engagement with

  • Anselm Reyle

    This was Anselm Reyle’s first solo show since his announcement in early 2014 that, for the time being, he would neither make nor exhibit new work. True to this resolution, the exhibition did not feature new pieces: On view was a single series that the artist regards as complete as of this self-imposed hiatus—the definitive date in the show’s prosaic title, “Streifenbilder/Stripe Paintings, 2003–2013,” indicating as much.

    The exhibition was a look back of sorts, then, and another first for Reyle: He had never presented a solo show entirely dedicated to one ensemble and the stages of its

  • Gabi Steinhauser

    An aerial photograph of a glacier that might almost be an abstract composition in somber greens; a deserted airport-terminal hall, its floor and baggage carousels shiny beneath an expansive and oddly oppressive array of round ceiling lights; a bleak river scene caressed by the light of a low November sun; people captured in fleeting moments—Gabi Steinhauser’s works hint at established genres such as landscape, architecture, and portrait photography, yet she aims for something else. They are uniformly Untitled (all works cited, 2014), prompting us to see them as instantiations of a neutral

  • Jānis Avotiņš

    Jānis Avotiņš’s paintings seem intangible, like the mental images that embody cherished memories, and yet their beholder experiences them with epiphanic immediacy. The Latvian artist’s most recent exhibition presented portraits and figure works, mostly paintings in small to medium formats; three highly subtle drawings enhanced the show. While much of his earlier work featured landscapes, which unfolded around his protagonists as a spacious stage, this element has disappeared from these more recent pieces, or contracted into a mere horizon—the barest definition of space conceivable. Whether

  • Amelie von Wulffen

    Goya’s a great guy—you’d be happy to go on vacation with him, see exhibitions together, or just shoot the breeze, and you can always call him when you’re feeling down. Or so it would seem, based on Amelie von Wulffen’s latest paintings. Max Beckmann, on the other hand, comes off as a little less approachable: Although the weather’s perfect for sailing, he just stands there in his blue jacket, smoking and staring blankly at nothing in particular. Then there’s van Gogh, another member of von Wulffen’s posse, gazing from the wooden backrest of an old-fashioned classroom chair with an expression

  • Marieta Chirulescu

    Some of Marieta Chirulescu’s pictures—created in finely nuanced pale hues of gray, with faint efflorescences of color that revealed themselves only on a second or third glance—seemed to fade into the spacious white cube of Kunsthalle Lingen. Chirulescu, who was born in Sibiu, Romania, lives in Berlin, and received the Twenty-First Lingener Kunstpreis for painting in 2014. Hers is a uniquely reflective approach to painting: Working with scanners, laser prints, photocopies, collages, and occasionally brush and paint, she interweaves the discourse on the conditions of painting with a

  • Annika Kahrs

    The central piece in Annika Kahrs’s exhibition “solid surface, with hills, valleys, craters and other topographic features, primarily made of ice” was a 2014 HD video of the same title, running just under twelve minutes. In this work, the artist, who studied with Andreas Slominski and Harun Farocki, resorted to imaginative as well as narrative devices to paint a portrait of Pluto—the dwarf planet traveling on an elliptical orbit in the outer reaches of our solar system—a heavenly body we know only from instrument readings and the conjectures and illustrations based on them. The subject

  • Michael Hakimi

    Michael Hakimi gave his recent show the title “Lichtfäden, die ins Bild hinüberwachsen” (Light-Threads That Wander Over into the Picture)—a phrase, as he notes in an accompanying essay, borrowed from an early description of the photographic process, whose author is unknown. The indeterminacy seems fortuitous, allowing the phrase to float freely as a perhaps linguistic image, its myriad implications—both poetic and material—resonating with Hakimi’s work.

    At first glance, you would have thought the works on display were paintings on smallish to medium-size panels, presented in a

  • Daniel Knorr

    In his recent exhibition “Lunarium,” Daniel Knorr presented works (all 2014, although some belong to series begun earlier) that translate various readings of urban space into the gallery sphere. The series “Berlin Wall,” 2014–, and “Depression Elevation,” 2013–, might be described as transformations of metropolitan action scenes into imagery and objects. In “Block,” 2009–, and Lunarium (the latter is the first and so far only work in a new eponymous series begun this year), Knorr experiments with performative theatrics that involve viewers in the process of visualization.

    Lunarium was set up in

  • Angela Bulloch

    For “In Virtual Vitro,” her eleventh solo show with Esther Schipper, Angela Bulloch used the gallery’s two rooms to constitute two distinct spheres. To the right were new works in characteristic Bullochian genres, including “Drawing Machines,” 1990–, “Listening Stations,” 2013–, and “Pixel Boxes,” 2000–; on the left, visitors encountered an ensemble of vaguely archaic-looking yet quasi-Minimalist new sculptures and wall pieces based on rhomboid elements.

    By now, viewers are familiar with the ways in which Bulloch’s sculpture interrelates different media and fields of perception. In the right

  • Ketuta Alexi-Meskhishvili

    As its title suggests, the photographs in “German Flowers,” the first solo show in Germany by Ketuta Alexi-Meskhishvili, consist almost entirely of floral motifs. At first glance, erratic and irreducible differences separate her works—as pictures, they are, one to the next, very distinct. Yet the transitions between them are fluid. The Georgian-born artist’s approach to her subject attests to a keen visual sensibility and love of experimentation; in each picture, she builds her central motif from the ground up, exploring it in all its fragility and richness. The works are diverse not only

  • Alan Charlton

    Alan Charlton describes his work with characteristic understatement: “I am an artist who makes a gray painting”—a declaration that seems just as minimal as the paintings themselves. And since 1970, true to his word, this protagonist of British conceptual Minimalism has consistently hewed to monochromatic painting in gray, developing his works as specific objects based on clearly proportioned constructions. Reduction, in Charlton’s work, is primarily a means for generating complex and exacting formal relations—between painting and its support medium as well as between the work, the