“Europa/Amerika. Die Geschichte einer künstlerischen Faszination seit 1940” (Europe/America. History of an artistic fascination since 1940) was the ambitious title of the first special exhibit presented by the Museum Ludwig. But the show was a boring disaster. Crowded into shoebox spaces, the theme was presented in the form of a confrontation between 60 American and 66 European artists. Each room had its common denominator (abstraction, figuration, montage), yet the choice of both artists and works seemed in the final analysis arbitrary, since almost no dialogue developed. What does a series of

There are artists whose work is nothing but a projection of their vision of the world and, as such, it prevails over the world, participating in it and at times enriching it. We might call this type of artist “Modern” In our century, another sort of artist has made an appearance, one who swoops down on the world, touches upon things without leaving a trace, yet lets those things make an impression upon him or her while experiencing them. This sort of “passive” artist, whose activity is a nomadic voyage, this artist who has developed a sensibility in terms of and in love with existence, is perhaps

“Europa/Amerika. Die Geschichte einer künstlerischen Faszination seit 1940” (Europe/America. History of an artistic fascination since 1940) was the ambitious title of the first special exhibit presented by the Museum Ludwig. But the show was a boring disaster. Crowded into shoebox spaces, the theme was presented in the form of a confrontation between 60 American and 66 European artists. Each room had its common denominator (abstraction, figuration, montage), yet the choice of both artists and works seemed in the final analysis arbitrary, since almost no dialogue developed. What does a series of

There are artists whose work is nothing but a projection of their vision of the world and, as such, it prevails over the world, participating in it and at times enriching it. We might call this type of artist “Modern” In our century, another sort of artist has made an appearance, one who swoops down on the world, touches upon things without leaving a trace, yet lets those things make an impression upon him or her while experiencing them. This sort of “passive” artist, whose activity is a nomadic voyage, this artist who has developed a sensibility in terms of and in love with existence, is perhaps