Sabine B. Vogel

  • Volker Döhne

    One can always recognize a student of Bernd and Hilla Becher. Volker Döhne is a first-generation Becher student, but less well-known than his colleagues. His photographs are portraitlike, black and white, but not always frontal views. In this exhibition entitled “Orientierung” (Orientation) his themes are views of houses and emblems. Krefeld is a small city, not far from Düsseldorf, but the rebuilding of the city is still not complete. One of Döhne’s series is entitled “Krefeld, Rheinstrasse,” 1990, and shows one street house by house. The cool, distanced attitude allows them to be read as a

  • Andreas Techler

    Usually artists try to construct a border between the front of this gallery, which serves as a lending library of pictures, and the open, exhibition space in the rear. But no wall separated them in Andreas Techler’s exhibition, and the heating pipes, rusty racks, and other construction materials looked as if they might simply have been left behind in the space—if one had not been able to ascertain that they had been placed in a particular order. All of these objects were household objects; more precisely, they came from Techler’s apartment. Like a pirate the artist took parts from the house:

  • Michael Asher

    It took Michael Asher five years to complete his project here. It focuses on the architect of the Palais des Beaux Arts, Victor Horta, who created buildings that are the embodiment of art-nouveau architecture in Belgium. In the Horta Museum Asher had found a small publication in which Horta had published his photographs of various water-works projects by William Mulholland. Perhaps it was this book that inspired Asher to consider Horta and Mulholland together. Mulholland became famous in 1928 when a dam he had constructed in the vicinity of Los Angeles burst. Both men were represented in the

  • Makroville

    Makroville is a collaborative project in which over 160 artists from various countries are participating and building a model city on a table about 33 feet by 33 feet (10 by 10 meters)—not a utopian city but, rather, an exhibition. The exhibitors are called the modesidents; the Ring Club initiated this project. Just as in life, but also just as in games, a city council approves construction permits. Any artist can buy land, and indeed must in order to participate. That so many artists have worked peacefully together may result from the project’s duplication of the structure of private property.

  • Maria Eichhorn

    Beyond the actual exhibition space, the Künstlerhaus contains a print shop, which is in the same building, and a children’s painting studio, which is in a building around the corner. For the duration of her exhibition, Maria Eichhorn moved the children’s workshop into the exhibition space and supervised its sessions. For each of six groups of children there were small tables and stools painted in bright colors. The children were provided with paint, paper, and pencils, and the project was explained to them.

    Room, furniture, and material were givens. To prevent the children from becoming mere

  • Museum in progress

    Museum in progress is neither an artist’s collective nor a neo-Conceptual innovation in terms of artistic production. It is, rather, an organizational structure: an immaterial museum, founded in 1990, that realizes projects in different places and through different media: newspapers, magazines, posters, and television stations. To exhibit art at such places also raises the problem of representing such art, since a documentary catalogue would be regressive. Thus, this exhibition represents an intermediate report on the activities of the Viennese museum in progress.

    The media rooms in which museum

  • Lothar Baumgarten

    Nineteen slide projectors set on windowsills and narrow wall ledges project photographs of Venetian chimneys onto the walls of this Mies van der Rohe villa; two project blank images. Lothar Baumgarten began this study in the winter of 1983/84, when a post-Modernist pleasure in viewing everything as sculpture, together with a growing recourse to appropriation was emerging in the art world. This current show, however, is far removed from these early beginnings. This installation, entitled wie venedig sehen (how to see Venice), directs our attention to various architectural structures, cultures,


    TO PRESENT AN EVERYDAY OBJECT in an art space so as to alter its status has been a familiar strategy since Marcel Duchamp. In Joe Scanlan’s hands, however, the everyday object doesn’t so much change its context as grow estranged from it, for an outcome distinctly different from classic Duchampiana. Scanlan’s things stay functional; their usefulness is retained. And this usefulness stops works like “Untitled Candle,” 1988, Extended-wear Underwear, 1989, “Starter Pots,” 1989–92, Nesting Bookcase and Entertainment Center, both 1990, and the recent Bathroom Floor, 1991, from being viewed as isolated,

  • Design for Turning Workers into Burghers

    Gelsenkirchener baroque—colloquially known as GE-baroque—is not well known outside Germany. Here, however, everyone instantly knows what is meant: a style of furniture design characterized by sweeping and overladen forms, respectable, stuffy, and shabby. Which doesn’t mean that the pièce de résistance of this style—a weighty kitchen hutch over six feet wide, five feet high, and two feet deep—was a bargain. Quite the contrary, it cost a worker two or three months’ wages, a price that, at first, only the well-paid miners of this Ruhr-district city could afford.

    Yet the design criteria that made

  • Günter Umberg

    Between the two doors the visitor passes when heading toward Günter Umberg’s exhibition, the viewer glimpses the Ierusalimskaia Virgin, a Russian icon from the 15th century. The placement of this object links two exhibitions that have been conceived and presented separately. Since comparisons between the icon and Umberg’s eight black surfaces inevitably crop up, he is also declaring their relationship to be a calculated enrichment of each other.

    Rooted entirely in the tradition of the abstract, Umberg boils painting down to its absolute minimum. The picture is present not as a reference, but as

  • Keith Sonnier

    For more than twenty years now, glass, aluminum, and neon tubes have been the main components of Keith Sonnier’s oeuvre. In his latest pieces, these materials have been joined by antennas or antennalike constructions. Using associative, pictorial, and concrete references, these elements link up with systems that exist outside the works. Sonnier’s works also hint at autonomous structures, but such a formalist interpretation, dictating a value through self-referentiality, is constantly disrupted. Thus, the transformers or the cables of the neon tubes are elements designating the interface between

  • Gert Rappenecker

    The works in this show come from Gert Rappenecker’s “Norderney Series,” 1990, and “Clay Drawings,” 1990–91. Actually, all of Rappenecker’s works here are untitled, and the series titles appear only in parentheses; the titles are thus more an aid in classification than a stimulus to association. Accordingly, the categories, and not so much the individual works, bring up art-historical references.

    For the “Norderney Series,” named after a German island in the North Sea, the point of departure is the classical seascape. Rappenecker’s seascapes, however, are altered photographs: the horizon, as it