Hinter den sieben Bergen…. um, wait, is this really Snow White?
What once was noble and pale has now – since the world has turned and we have gone to discover the sunny side of life – turned into a naturally enhanced bronze. A sunblock would surely have left Snow White as she was and would keep us safe from surprise.
Parallel worlds, ambivalent expectations and paranoid perception carve their way through contemporary tales… that’s what it’s all about! The new version of Snow White leads to new versions of midgets and princes, but also new dimensions of fairy tales: new societies, new dreams, new art.
This group show brings together eight sparkling contemporary artists, together revealing a new geist: one of character, respect and lust.
Marcel Dzama, born 1974, cheerfully draws us into sarcastic helplessness.
The unsuspicious sweetness of his subjects and the naivety of small sizes capture our unprotected, uncritical mind and lead us to a somewhat poisoned tale. You notice it too late.
Till Gerhard, born 1971, wraps apocalyptic perspectives, daily news, into visionary paintings.
Beautifully colored, but dead landscapes, disoriented people — lost — hippy crowds – found – singing along. Gerhard turns nightmares into large scale romanticisms. He leads to the lovable side of disillusion.
Martin Hoener, born 1976, masters melancholy.
By re-thinking spaces through his found objects, re-interpreting litter in his paintings, it only hurts a little more and then he shows us how to survive grey days and find the glitter. Silently. Hoener shows us materials of melancholy. Light, weather, color. All materials, all phenomena already there: combined to also console.
Evil Knievel, born 1973, seduces us.
He is the elevator music, methodically making you drop off your clothes and when you wake up all you know is you feel alright. Evil Knievel captures your time but you won’t notice. He makes you believe, and you forget what in. His brush is your memories and associations, his canvas is you. Of course, he is working with different media. But you won’t see.
Jonathan Meese, born 1970, scares us with all possible means.
His expressionist variety of maniac fragments, assembling them to an absolute state of frenzy, confuses definition by traumatizing our bored eyes and ears. He is the Snow White. He is the midget. He is the prince. He plays a Freudian beat. He is all of us.
Peter Piller, born 1968, collects and categorizes.
He assembles the most normal, the most real, the most boring newspaper images of our world, our lives, our society. Piller walks you through places you absolutely do not need to see. He collects paper images that you don’t even notice. He assembles them into poetic categories and enlightening chapters. Piller conceptually gives you the chance to find your peace. Here. Now. In every day’s life.
Claus Richter, born 1973, engineers imagination. Although fiction grows out of dreams, he does not accept to keep it there. He creates wide-scale installations like poetic adventures. Bric-a-brac, sceneries, moving vehicles, videos and paintings. He takes you to his dream and leaves you with one more yourself.
Tilt, scans the streets, scouts a girl, paints on her.
Queen for one night, she does what she wants, presents herself, shows what she might never show again. He observes the birth of a star. She creates her own tale. That’s the deal.