Elisabeth Kihlström

COURAGE, MON AMIE
25.10. 2018

 






 











 

Courage, mon amie is a performance that weaves together interviews with artists 
and designers about their live-and-work spaces, Kihlström’s own writing and fragments 
of the bibliography she compiled. Together they construct the room of a single dweller, her 
office for living. The voices are mixed with the urban fabric and the echo of history, mapping 
out a system that allows us to live alone together. Rest-Work-Leisure-Dressing: days in the cave.

Do 25.. Oktober 2018   19.00 Uhr


 


 
 










Öffnungszeiten: Während der laufenden Ausstellung!
Fr 15 bis 20 Uhr
und nach Vereinbarung!

Kontakt:
Marxergasse 16
A-1030 Wien
0043680 21 63 551
email: offspace@chello.at

 

Mit der freundlichen Unterstützung von:



Adrian Williams

 POEM AUTOMATON
15.09. - 05.10. 2018






Adrian Williams "Poem Automaton”

When Adrian shows me the pictures she’s going to show in her exhibition in Vienna, I immediately think of death. Because in these black and white photographic prints it is almost always somehow present. Stirring in a kind of blank space at the pictures center it looks as if someone has just (perhaps following a final phone call) ascended to heaven. That she or he, might have been swallowed by the lights reflection, absorbed - so beautiful and present are these ripped-out, white raster gaps, and all the more meaningful within them there alongside lonely landscapes and a prickly cactus’ realm. At once there is a bright specter facing the observer, then another, a figurative sculpture illuminating beings from beyond the afterlife, radiating as it would an Egyptian burial ground.
Perhaps for me, a somewhat delicate soul, the association with death arises from the fact that in many other works by Adrian Williams this seems to be a reoccurring concern. In one play ("Once Removed", 2014), the male protagonist, played by a female actress, struggles to makes sense of the impending death of his (her) brother. He is tasked with giving his brother permission to take his own life, to die before God, the law, and the whole world. Somehow, he owes his brother this debt. In another work, (“A Bed in The Hall", 2012) a man has convinced himself that he’s thrown another man from a window (or was it a building cornice, or a kind of French balcony - I don’t quite remember exactly, the character in the story was drunk ).
Somehow it doesn’t surprise me that a "Poem Automaton" speaks into this exhibition and installation: vocalized generic texts, not living, biological, or produced from the gut as by a purely intellectual process of the artist. No one knows when they will ultimately die. These poems are created in the manner of the surrealists "Cadavre exquis", "Delicious corpse" or "Delicious carcass", as one might say here in Austria. In line with the method of André Breton, initiated not only for the creation of images (familiar to us today), but a form that was also a text machine. One paints or writes just one / one element of content on a sheet of paper and folds it so that the person to whom the sheet is forwarded cannot see the previous content when adding the next piece. Body accumulations, collages, lumps and sculptures are created automatically. In Adrian's version, folders with different orientations ("sound", “subject", “purpose”, and “silence”) are organized on a computer, and filled with the artists voice recorded potential word combinations. An algorithm grabs random files from the respective folders and establishes new units strung together like pearls. Here at "Fox" a specific poem is created, prescribed to change with its next use. Inevitably it will have a different rhythm, chance delivering another chain of phrases. The automaton can also contain other source folders, expanding its potential, and may one day voice a love poem.1
When you play "Cadavre exquis", first one person, then the other trusts that after the head, for example, a body - and not the feet - will be drawn. However, it seems to me that the protagonists in Adrian's works are more likely toward self- determined actions than cooperation. In another story of hers ("The Right Triangle", 2007), which I now recall and which like those already mentioned I recommend reading, two women unknowingly share a single heating system and so the life of the one is unwillingly controlled by the other, leaving them existentially co-dependent. There is a parallelism of actions and matter, also materials, I might say, that could again generate new actions. For example the series of paper works ("Routines", since 2010), in which Adrian writes mini-narratives by hand associatively to images taken from a rich stock of her photographic snapshots. These narrative fragments are not about death per se, but often about an otherness, a whimsy, or some particular quality that inevitably excludes these fictional persons from their surrounding social order. In this way, they are quasi-dead.
While listening to the "Poem Automaton" an ever-re- instigated process, you sit on an amphitheater-like seating arrangement made up of discarded sofas. It is not a sculpture that tries to cover up its origins, nor does it promote such an arrangement in the self-made process à la hipster interior. Rather, one sees the individual parts of the unpretentious process of creation and at the same time resides in the well- known form of a staircase theater: parallelism of the materials on which one sits, parallelism of the words and sentences to which one listens.
I mention now much older works by Adrian, although I know that she can’t stand that: There were once performances that imitated variety shows and carnival acts. Actual competitions in which the audience participated. "Écriture automatique" is now a process that opposes this format, deliberately avoiding feelings such as competition. The automatic writing process ultimately argues for non-trust, but also for a non- accountability to any social conventions and norms, it makes them non-existent. If one takes the automaton method seriously as an artist, with all it’s fictions and illusions, new narratives arise in this setting. Whether these are less or more compelling than those produced differently - about this one is at once, and with the more time spent with the somewhat eerie "Poem Automaton", no longer safe. Poems and stories can appear as drops of water on the windshield of a car at dusk that we recognize as they move on in a self-determined manner and then, like the figures cast on wallpaper emerging in the dark as you fall asleep, suddenly stay with you. You do not have to be afraid of death. It resides in the here and now, same as the living.

Kerstin Cmelka in September 2018




 








                                         Foto: Stefan Lux

 

Öffnungszeiten: Während der laufenden Ausstellung!
Fr 15 bis 20 Uhr
und nach Vereinbarung!

Kontakt:
Marxergasse 16
A-1030 Wien
0043680 21 63 551
email: offspace@chello.at

 

Mit der freundlichen Unterstützung von:
Nicholas Hoffman
Backyardia
29.04. - 19.05. 2018

opening: 28.04-2018   19:00 Uhr



Ausstellungsansichten



 








                                               Foto: Stefan Lux


Öffnungszeiten: Während der laufenden Ausstellung!
Sa 15 bis 21 Uhr
und nach tel. Vereinbarung!

 


Kontakt:
Marxergasse 16
A-1030 Wien
0043680 21 63 551
email: offspace@chello.at

 

Mit der freundlichen Unterstützung von:


Josh Müller
Wir wollen kein Theater sondern Kino
Index 1 - 622

26. 11. - 16. 12. 2017
opening: Sa 25. 11. 2017 7pm
finis: Sa 16. 12. 2017 7pm


 
 



Wir wollen kein Theater sondern Kino* I Auszug aus Index 1 - 622
Deutschland. Bilder. Eine Sprache, die uns oft immer noch scheinbar daran hindert 
schwerelose Poesie zu formulieren, weil sie oft so direkt, ungeschmückt und spröde
einem den Atem stocken lässt… für viele immer noch die Sprache der Vollstrecker
bis in die Gegenwart. Dass wir ausgerechnet diesem Land und seinen Menschen den 
Begriff „Romantik“ zuschreiben, bewirkte einst Friedrich Schlegel, der im Wesentlichen den modernen Begriff dessen prägte und welcher sich in der bildenden Kunst z. B. in den Bildern eines Philipp Otto Runge manifestierte. Zunächst in eine Begrifflichkeit von Heimat mutiert und dem Zeitgeist angepasst, sich im wieder aufgebauten Nachkriegs-Deutschland als Gegenwelt präsentierend– der Nährboden für eine neue, nüchterne, spröde Sicht auf die Dinge – hin zu einer Sachlichkeit und Analytik, welche sich in den 70ern u. a. durch Künstler wie Rolf Dieter Brinkmann oder die Bechers formulierte. Die 68er Hippie-Revolution, Sattheit, Depression, Melancholie, Grau, Autos, Industrie, November, Verpuffungen an roten Ampeln, die ins Grün umspringen, dumpfer, mechanischer Lärm. Vom Nebel werden wir reich belohnt für unseren freiwilligen Tausch mit der Realität, denn wir erhalten dafür Magie in ihrer melancholischsten Form. Trotz allem ist er nichts anderes als eine auf dem Boden liegende Wolke. Natürlich müssen Deutsche sich betrinken, ist der Alkoholkonsum in der nördlichen Hemisphäre höher als anderswo. Sehnsucht generiert sich an Orten, diese werden zu imaginären Bühnen, die wir nicht betreten wollen, sondern vom Abseits aus betrachten, um nichts kaputt zu machen – den nötigen Abstand, um sich in Gedanken zu verlieren, sich in DIE Geschichte fallen lassen zu können. Eine gedankliche Aneignung dieser Bühne, auf der wir gerne etwas Flüchtiges inszenieren möchten, ganz für uns allein. Das Verfahren der Verpuffung bietet sich hier als elegante Lösung, eine informelle noch dazu, geradezu gestisch und nicht von langer Dauer, gerade so lange um kurz mit gebotenem Abstand einem Spektakel mit ausgelatschten Interpretationsmodi beizuwohnen. 
Ja, nein, all das kann deutsch?
Es riecht nach aufkeimender Revolte, nach einer gern okkupierten Metapher von zu ernst gemeinter Kritik ...aus einem Stillleben wird ein Film. 
Es klart wieder auf, das Standbild ist wieder eingeschaltet, jetzt kann man gehen, um wieder zu kommen und um erneut auf die Frage eine Antwort zu erhoffen und infolgedessen der Ort einem etwas Neues, Magisches preisgibt, was wir bisher nicht sehen oder wahrnehmen konnten. Ein neuer Film kann gedreht werden, wieder ohne Kamera.


Udo Bohnenberger



Wir wollen kein Theater sondern Kino* 
[We don’t want theatre, we want cinema] Samples from Index 1 – 622

Germany. Pictures. A language that frequently still seemingly inhibits us from formulating weightless poetry because it often so directly, unadorned and unwieldy takes one’s breath… for many still today the language of the executors. That we attribute Romanticism to this country and its people, of all things was once effected by Friedrich Schlegel, who coined its concept, which in fine arts is manifested in the pictures of Philipp Otto Runge, for instance. First mutated to a conception of home and adapted to contemporary zeitgeist, presenting itself as counter-world in rebuilt post-war Germany, the matrix for a new, sober, aloof point of view towards objectivity and analytics, which was framed in the 70s by artists like Rolf Dieter Brinkman or the Bechers. The hippie revolution of ’68, satiety, depression, melancholy, grey, cars, industry, November, deflagrations at red lights turning to green, muffled, mechanical noise. The fog abundantly rewards us for voluntarily swapping it with reality, for we receive magic in its most melancholic form. Nevertheless, it’s nothing other than a cloud lying on the ground. Of course, Germans have to get drunk, for alcohol consumption is higher in the northern hemisphere than elsewhere. Longing is generated in places; these become imaginary stages that we don’t want to enter but instead look at from aside in order not to break something, the required distance to lose oneself in thought, to let oneself drop into THE history – a conceptual appropriation of this stage, on which we would like to direct something ephemeral, only for oneself. The method of deflagration offers an elegant solution here, and also an informal one, virtually gestural and not lasting long; just long enough to briefly witness a spectacle with worn out modes of interpretation from a safe distance. 

Yes, no, German is able of all that?
It smells like germinal revolution, like a readily occupied metaphor for too serious criticism, a still life becomes a film.
It clears up again, the still is switched on again, now you can go, only to return and hope again for an answer to the question, and as a result the place reveals something new, magical that we couldn’t see or sense so far. A new film can be shot, once again without a camera.

Udo Bohnenberger
 
Translation: Jeanette Pacher

*The tiltle was given by Nicolas Jasmin 



 



















 foto: Pascal Petignat

Öffnungszeiten: Während der laufenden Ausstellung!
Sa 15 bis 21 Uhr
und nach tel. Vereinbarung!

 

Kontakt:
Marxergasse 16
A-1030 Wien
0043680 21 63 551
email: offspace@chello.at

 

Mit der freundlichen Unterstützung von:



Rudi Weidenauer - CIRCUMSTANZA
Production - Octavian Trauttmansdorff with FOX

25.06. - 22.07.2017
opening: Sa 24.06.2017 7pm
finis: Sa 22.07.2017 7pm 






„Circumstanza“ – Situations
On Rudolf Weidenauer’s work and modes of action
Everything that is, I’m gonna dump.
Everything that was goes down the urinal.
Only what has no chance of becoming will I diligently go about.

Peter Rühmkorf


“Do something with your life!” A seemingly harmless imperative sentence that demonstrates that life is no longer meaning per se but has become an adjustment variable for supposedly higher purposes. Rudi Weidenauer’s oeuvre was dedicated to questioning life commitment and searched for art forms, which would still allow him and others to live a life. The whole point of artistry is to find this specific endpoint that offers an escape from the usual debris. In this, in the calm when purpose dissolves, a pleasure can emerge that brings something to the fore that no longer serves as commitment to whatever aims that, having no better word, may be called “life”. For it will hardly be all the other nonsense (work, consumption and self-optimisation) that we are constantly told to do.
One of the strategies (if this is what you really want to name it) that Rudi Weidenauer employed was the (so-called) “Scherzl” strategy: ironic sketches and bricolages that indicated something bigger, which in most cases didn’t even exist. Here, the disruption of thoughts was the method. The often sudden end can be considered as emergency measure, for which two reasons can be named: on the one hand, most things Rudi did were an offer of talks. Once the pottering around could be given up in favour of a human encounter or collective daydreaming, it was. On the other hand, to him “works” were deeply suspicious. In his oeuvre, one thus should find a clear rejection of work(s). “People always want to make something, but so much has already been done. Now I should add to this, too?” was one of his characteristic, partly consciously paradoxically outlined thought loops. Frequently after announcing not to do anything, he would sit down and do something. A significant part of his work that would have documented how capable he was at times in being idle in a striking way is – due to certain orders of logic – no longer available. The rest however shows how fragile art is when it keeps its composition open. In some of Rudi Weidenauer’s manifestations that, for their emergence from everyday impulses, can be labelled “true-to-life”, something seems to be clear and visible, only that you can’t pin down what.

At times, Rudi Weidenauer downright suspiciously observed the reception of his work. He knew the pleasure others took in turning his actions into something they had never been, and how he always needed to be on alert to the chasm of conventionalization. At the same time, he inquisitively listened to every interpretation and was privately also pleased about misunderstandings. His unbroken readiness to start and make the next sketch was accompanied by a clear sense for what was too “big” and was threatening to become too “defined”. Once they had left the trail of determined uncertainty, the works turned back to the familiar purpose-driven linkages that thwarts life and makes it sticky. For Rudi Weidenauer, the worst kind of fly glue was the artwork itself. If he had the impression that he was sitting as an artist on an artist’s seat to make an artwork on the artist’s desk, he would crack and go jogging. To him, this was an intolerable constellation. “We’re not even going anywhere near this!”

Frank Jödicke

Translation: Jeanette Pacher
























                   
                                                                                                                                              Foto: Stefan Lux                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     




Öffnungszeiten: 
Während der laufenden Ausstellung!
Sa 15 bis 21 Uhr
und nach tel. Vereinbarung!


Kontakt:
Marxergasse 16
A-1030 Wien
0043680 21 63 551
email: offspace@chello.at


Mit der freundlichen Unterstützung von:













DIY - documenta
26./27.5. 2017 6pm 









documenta DIY

Every five years, a comparatively small town in Northern Germany plays host to one of the world’s largest and arguably most important art exhibitions. This year, the first DIY documenta will be held in Stuttgart and Vienna. . .
The DIY documenta is part Gedankenexperiment, part learning machine, part exhibition. On a much smaller scale and with practically no budget, the DIY documenta looks to evoke the constitutive dichotomies that define its older sister: the local (provincial?) and the universal, the historical survey together with the Momentaufnahme of the present, the critique and celebration of representation, the joyous affirmation of dilettantism and the megalomania of the world encompassing showcase. . .
Masters Students from the Merz Akademie in Stuttgart along with students from the Universität für angewandte Kunst, Vienna, together with their teachers are responsible for the realization of the exhibition. The exhibition will be shown at the art space LOTTE in Stuttgart and FOX in Vienna.


Participants in the exhibition and seminars are Francesca Aldegani, Elena Rosalia Apollonio, Selvi Atas, Chiara Bals, Zahar Bondar, Joost Bottema, Siena Brunnthaler, Hatun Colak, Sophie Marie Csenar, Anna Doppler, Esra Göksu, Marlies Gruber, Tristan Griessler, Isabell Ingber, Rafaella Isnit, Anastasia Jermolaewa, Maura Jasper, Maximilian Jettmar, Ludwig Kittinger, Selma Klima, Philipp Köster, Lili Liang, Samuel Linus Gromann, Léa Manoussakis, Julie Mantwill, Caroline Meyer-Jürshof, Felizitas Moroder, Peter Ott, David Quigley, Aline Rainer, Laura Schäfer, Elisabeth Schmid, Susanne Therese Schwarz, Vincent von Tiedemann, Maria Tsaneva, Christoph Voglbauer, David Weimar, Patrick Wellmann, Florian Wille, Sasha Zalivako.





























Photo: U.B.









Kontakt:

Marxergasse 16
A-1030 Wien
0043680 21 63 551
email: offspace@chello.at


Mit der freundlichen Unterstützung von: