Pamela Kort

  • Georg Baselitz

    “GEORG BASELITZ: PAINTER,” a brilliantly installed exhibition at the Louisiana Museum of Modern Art, is a real stunner—it’s a pity it is not traveling to the United States. Cannily positioning older works beside newer ones, the show brings to light the cyclical nature of Baselitz’s working process, one that doubles back on itself, and persistently questions the possibilities afforded by the genres, styles, and motifs of painting. It also makes clear that more than merely turning painting on its head, the artist has been attempting to redefine the genre’s borders since the early 1960s.

    The show

  • Bruder Andreas, 1996.

    Georg Baselitz: Pictures Turning the Head Topsy-Turvy

    Comprising roughly 130 paintings and sculptures from 1959 to the present, this retrospective, organized in close cooperation with the artist, will indeed turn your head around.

    Georg Baselitz’s art is about retrospection. By distancing himself from a recent past, he draws nearer to it in order to cease hankering after it. Comprising roughly 130 paintings and sculptures from 1959 to the present, this retrospective, organized in close cooperation with the artist, will indeed turn your head around. By juxtaposing older and newer works, it zeroes in on key ideas and motifs in Baselitz’s oeuvre. His well-known upside-down paintings signal his supreme subject: the genre of art itself. Not content simply to dismantle its techniques, styles, and icons,

  • “Kunst in der DDR”

    This exhibition was not to be missed. The first—and perhaps, unfortunately, the last—massive museum survey of painting, drawing, sculpture, photography, and film made in the former German Democratic Republic (GDR) in the forty years of its existence (1949–89), “Kunst in der DDR” (Art in the GDR) couldn’t have been timelier. Its opening coincided, albeit unintentionally, with a cresting wave of nostalgia in Germany for East Germany. Six and a half million viewers watched the inaugural episode of the DDR Show on German television the first week in September, and almost as many—six

  • Komar & Melamid, Quotation, 1972.

    Berlin-Moscow/Moscow-Berlin 1950–2000

    This vast exhibition brings to the surface some of the most paradoxical questions today in cultural studies: “the future of nostalgia” (Svetlana Boym), the viability of replacing “the word ‘communist’ with ‘postmodernist’” (Mikhail Epstein), and the significance of borrowing political ideologies, industrial values, and artistic styles.

    This vast exhibition brings to the surface some of the most paradoxical questions today in cultural studies: “the future of nostalgia” (Svetlana Boym), the viability of replacing “the word ‘communist’ with ‘postmodernist’” (Mikhail Epstein), and the significance of borrowing political ideologies, industrial values, and artistic styles. Curated by Jürgen Harten, Pavel V. Khoroshilov, Angela Schneider, Christoph Tannert, Ekaterina Degot, and Viktor Misiano, the exhibition explores trends in post–World War II aesthetics. Focusing on Germany and Russia, the show features some 500 works by 200

  • Georg Baselitz

    PAMELA KORT: When you think back to the ’80s, what comes to the surface for you?

    GEORG BASELITZ: I’d like to talk about my relationship with America. It began in 1980. I showed a sculpture at the Venice Biennale, in the German pavilion with Anselm Kiefer. Shortly thereafter, Ileana Sonnabend sent me a letter, which was the first correspondence I had ever received from America. Within a week I got another letter, this time from Xavier Fourcade. Both gallerists offered me exhibitions. Their offers were totally unexpected; I didn’t think that there was an interest in German art in America. So Michael

  • Jörg Immendorff

    PAMELA KORT: What were the signal moments in the ’80s for you?

    JÖRG IMMENDORFF: In 1982 I had my first large museum show in Germany at the Kunsthalle Düsseldorf, where my “Café Deutschland” [1978–82] paintings were featured. Shortly thereafter I participated for the second time in Documenta, and just a few months later “Zeitgeist” opened at the Martin-Gropius-Bau in Berlin.

    This period was also important to me because of the interaction between the older generation of artists and much younger ones, like Walter Dahn and Georg Jiří Dokoupil, two of the Cologne artists grouped around the Mülheimer