Jutta Koether

  • Laura Emrick

    In her exhibition entitled “Regolith and Reproduction,” Laura Emrick incorporated science and technology in her art. She takes for granted a familiarity with the newest developments in the media and in technology, as well as with the images, stories, desires, and utopias they produce. For her, the seminal event in the development of media culture was the first moon landing. The voyage through space; the broadcasting of information by satellite; and the creation of utopias are simultaneously real and science fictional, opening outer space itself to larger-than-life fantasies as well as to flight.

  • Elke Denda

    We should not be misled by the lively, cheerful appearance of Elke Denda’s work. Though she likes Mondrian, Matisse, and Sigmar Polke, she has also been decisively influenced by her teacher at the Düsseldorf academy, Fritz Schwegler, whose work has been summed up by Luk Lambrecht as “an intimate work that looks like a strangely plastic reflection of a diary.” The basic features of Denda’s oeuvre are personal signs; simple colors and patterns; schematized observations of nature; stylized, minimalist painting; and observations of the past as well as the world of childhood. Most of these characteristics

  • Peter Fend

    Is he an anarchist, an ultraliberal marketing expert, or simply living proof that the two types are interwoven—especially in America? During the past summer and fall, Peter Fend—as ego, as part of OECD (Ocean-Earth Construction and Development Corporation), as artist, as entrepreneur of planned multinational art corporations aiming to make the world better through artistic means—traveled between Cologne, Frankfurt, and Paris. Always holding a new conspiracy theory, he introduced himself and his permanent preoccupation with improving the world’s ecology. His blueprints and analyses, his assertions

  • Michael Krebber

    This show is a trailer of sorts offering glimpses of Michael Krebber’s cosmos where he operates as a “veteran nay-sayer,” a worker and a producer of “negative exhibitions,” starting out as usual with his own pleasure as initial impulse.

    Just as the Situationists wanted to remain professional amateurs, Krebber skillfully develops methods of being an artist, but not a professional one. This is confirmed by a plethora of documents from his life without work but also without boredom. Thus, the walls are covered with things—for instance, an article from the German newspaper, Frankfurter Allgemeine

  • Peter Bonde

    Most people feel some slight anxiety when viewing the works of Danish artist Peter Bonde. Who wants to look at work that seems a desperate attempt to maintain a “critical” art by all sorts of antiquated means such as sculpture and painting? Bonde stubbornly (and sometimes perhaps too directly) insists that such an art must exist, and, he goes about inventing the space for it, so that the art action constitutes the core of his project.

    At the same time he continues to wage a struggle for self-respect as an artist, entangling himself in his own scenarios. Puttering about in an attempt to transform

  • Dominique Gonzalez-Foerster

    Do images register in our minds more readily than words? How do verbal and visual memories relate to each other? How can the expertise of a professional mnemonician help us to see and perceive? Dominique Gonzalez-Foerster’s work does not only approach such issues with respect to the viewing of art; her work directly embodies those operations. Entitled “The Mind of a Mnemonician,” this show attacked the usual modes of perception, such as the application of methods from other fields—psychoanalysis, philosophy, and sociology. The exhibition is a memory of memory experiments undertaken in the 1920s

  • Peter Nadin

    What is painting after? Here we have an artist and an exhibition that relentlessly pose this question. Can painting exist today except by reflecting on itself? It doesn’t want to exceed itself, but it must in order to accommodate the world, human beings, and even the conditions of art’s production.

    Peter Nadin’s paintings resemble equations that ultimately exist only in order to introduce a “genuine” unknown quantity. The goal is not to solve the equation, but to construct it; not only to limit but also to expand the unknowns. Imagine all the things one can do with x, with the unknown. Imagine

  • Georg Baselitz

    What is painting after? Memory and organization. To dissolve, to constitute itself. To do something vicariously for others or for itself? To capture a special kind of reminiscence—personal history, time spent with painting, the resulting disillusionment because painting as the trace of genius is all that remains.

    Georg Baselitz’s new work is both monumental and light at the same time. It fills an entire room, but is neither massive nor monolithic. Instead, it is decentralized in a series of 20 individual components that form a continuous strip of pictures. In the catalogue, Siegfried Gohr calls

  • Philip Pearlstein

    The works of Philip Pearlstein are difficult all around. Mannerism, kitsch, and Pop art combine with objects that are painted realistically, even hyperrealistically; abstractly composed still lifes coalesce with nudes and juicy symbolic overtones. Pearlstein flaunts his painterly expertise in these interior studio scenes. This is direct painting with no spark of inspiration springing across the canvas; these scenes implode silently. The naked figures are accompanied, for example, by wooden toys, wooden tables, mirrors, statues, and a red model airplane. The subjects’ poses are always attuned to

  • Peter Zimmerman

    The desire to speak in a painting? Practicing the desire to paint, the “concreteness that has been depicted,” in a speaking painting? The man who wants all this is the Conceptual painter Peter Zimmermann, who, since 1987, has been depicting book covers as paintings. There’s nothing wrong here: he cleverly chooses the titles, which all come from books of the ’50s, ’60s, and early ’70s. These books include several atlases, An Introduction to Modern Linguistics, Abstraction and Empathy, Michelin and Baedeker guides, as well as how-to books like Think and Get Rich and Wallpapering Today. These titles

  • Piotr Nathan

    Piotr Nathan aims at reaching a truth behind the objectivist, universalist, fetishistic demands of the modern art object. Through Nathan’s objects, we experience how meaning is made, how material fetishism arises. But at the same time, we are ensnared, compelled to roam about, dumbfounded by the grandiloquent, brutal aspects of the objects themselves. Nathan makes himself vulnerable, fearing neither obviousness nor contradictions. The titles of his pieces and the arrangement of this exhibition (which offers works from the past seven years—almost a miniretrospective) confirm the impression that

  • Peter Bömmels

    Furniere der Schatz” (Veneer the treasure): like all Peter Bömmels’ exhibitions, this one focused on the content of the works. On display were 40 small works (all 1989) painted on fine, frail veneer leaves, that were divided into ten sections, each with a mock-serious title. Here, Bömmels uses real, not mythical subjects, that refer to functions, differences, and problems of gender, belief, art, and politics. Humor runs as a current through many of the works, as, for example, in Künstler transzendiert Zebrastreifen (Artist transcends zebra crossing). Bömmels is an artistic autodidact with

  • Hinrich Weidemann

    Hinrich Weidemann explores the concept of the interior through his collectively installed drawings, rendered in fragile pencil strokes and with brush traces in india ink. One could almost call these works withdrawn and modest if they didn’t insist with all their might that the issue of a picture’s autonomy has not been resolved, that it must be reintroduced in a new way—in the face of the possibly endless repetition of the artwork. Weidemann plays the part of the European, whose efforts at cracking the dead system he assumes without provocation. Yet, amazingly, he offers convincing forms, which

  • Robert Gober

    Recently Robert Gober’s sink was a favorite object of interpretation, a thing that offered a new surface for projection and reference (Marcel Duchamp, Robert Morris, Donald Judd, to name merely the cornerstones). Exposure, disease, the unconscious, archetypes of culture, symbols of existence—all these have been read into the sink. What next? Nevertheless, Gober managed, in these exhibitions, to discard the notion that we are living in a stage of aftermath. He shows us a balancing act, and also states its necessity—cautiously and sincerely.

    Most of Gober’s objects are handmade or at least visibly

  • Candida Hofer

    Candida Höfer was a student of Bernd and Hilla Becher, whose reductionist approach to photography has exerted a tremendous influence on recent German art. Indeed, the Bechers have had such a strong impact that their disciples have often had to struggle with the couple’s rationally “correct” stance for the rest of their lives. Despite the authority of the Bechers, Höfer has managed to take a slow, quiet, and thoughtful detour.

    Her subject is limited to interiors, which are never stripped of their distinctiveness by rigorously formal photographic methods. More specifically, Hölfer shoots informal

  • Albert Oehlen

    The paintings in this exhibition don’t have titles, just small parenthetical indications that serve to identify them, such as “American flag,” “Lichtenstein,” “Weapon,” “Cross,” and “Street.” Not only do they offer disclaimers of classical techniques (for example, the flag painting alludes to Jasper Johns), they also stabilize the artist’s work. The path Albert Oehlen has taken is made up of countless salient advances, activities (including nonartistic ones), and revisions, which, almost imperceptibly, but more and more powerfully, have exposed one of today’s most convincing responses to the

  • Asta Gröting

    The absence of content is iridescent in these untitled works by Asta Gröting. They do not announce a new direction, nor do they produce spectacular effects, but they are astonishing. One is amazed by, say, the elegance with which the artist arranges and juxtaposes materials, such as dried sunflowers with a Plexiglas vessel containing a glass pane. One is similarly amazed by a screen of shaped Plexiglas, standing on a custom-made chromium base; a brownish spot, the size of a cow pat, is placed on either side, and inside it, we can see the glass bodies that Gröting often uses. These bodies, with

  • Isa Genzenken

    Isa Genzken is known for the way she subtly relates her works to their environments, as well as for her complex, specific solutions and disruptive tactics. She has consistently employed materials from the realm of building construction: first wood and plaster, then glass and steel, and now concrete. Sculptures made of broken, shattered, and imperfect concrete are supported by delicate iron scaffolds. Genzken pours the concrete into wooden frameworks; when it hardens, she smashes it, then piles up the fragments again. Then the components are lightly spray-painted.

    The manner in which the pieces

  • Anne Loch

    For many years now, Anne Loch has been painting only landscapes, and almost never any human beings. At most, an animal may stray into one of her landscapes—as in the picture featuring a herd of buffalo (shown at the Kunstverein in Bonn) or the impressive depiction of an eagle perching on a mountain peak against a radiant blue background (at Monika Sprüth). The exhibition in Bonn consisted almost entirely of a series of mountain landscapes and a series of flower paintings, all painted in 1987. In each of the former, the mountain always looks the same while the color of the background is different;

  • Julio Rondo

    In his first large solo exhibition, Julio Rondo, a Spaniard living in West Germany, exhibited nine new works, all from 1988. These six single-canvas paintings and three triptychs are, in a sense, “double” paintings. Their composition, influenced by the strategies of graphic design, is conceptual, yet reveals a kind of self-conceived innocence. With restraint and simplicity, these works ask about the value and validity of painting, while reflecting a comfort with the transitional moment in art from which such questions emerge.

    Each work actually consists of two paintings: one in oil pastel on