elements

Lukas Hoffmann, Andrea Zabric

26.11.2018 – 18.01.2019

 

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Vernissage: Freitag 16. November, 18 – 21 Uhr,
16 November 2018 – 18 Januar 2019
Bitte nach Vereinbarung unter contact@gig-munich.com
Finissage: Freitag 18. Januar 2019, 19 – 21 Uhr

 

The exhibition elements, showcasing new work by Lukas Hoffmann and Andrea Zabric is GiG Munich’s first collaboration with Klasse Pia Fries, Akademie der Bildenden Künste München.

What connects the two young, upcoming artists is a shared interest in materialism, where their version of materialism belongs more to the philosophical developments centred around Speculative Realism than to the handmade, expressive variety traditionally associated with the activity of painting. Operating at the intersection of materialism and realism, they submit to the view that the primacy afforded to matter necessarily demotes the importance of the human understanding of it. If matter is all there is, then its reality must be encountered for itself. In their quasi-scientific, quasi-magical approaches, they reject the emphasis on the multiplicity of interpretations that art borrowed from dominant modes of contemporary critical theory (post-structuralism, deconstruction, psychoanalysis) in order to pursue an almost essential, almost dogmatic, grounding of reality. With this comes a violence, whether this is manifested in the high pressure Zabric submits her pigments to, or the highly polished weapon-like quality of Hoffmann’s metal work. They show that the material world, the inhuman one, is intense, forceful, elemental.

 

Magdalena Wisniowska 2018

 

On Repeat

Alasdair Duncan, Jenny Dunseath, Jonah Gebka, Jane Harris, Melina Hennicker, Steffen Kern, Claudio Matthias Bertolini, Michael Schmidt, Amanda Ure, Magdalena Wisniowska

Opening: Freitag 21. September, 18 – 21 Uhr
22. September – 26. October 2018

 

installation closeup‘On Repeat’ exhibition view, 2018

 

installation front3‘On Repeat’ exhibition view, 2018

 

installation front2‘On Repeat’ exhibition view, 2018

 

installation front1‘On Repeat’ exhibition view, 2018

 

jane harris2Jane Harris, Setting Out and Touching Light, 2018, oil on wooden panel, 50 x 50 cm

 

jane harris1Jane Harris, Setting Out and Touching Light, 2018, oil on wooden panel, 50 x 50 cm
fullsizeoutput_6e9Alasdair Duncan, Magic Bucket, 2018, bucket, rope, potatoes, dimensions variable
Some years ago I hung a bucket from a chain, a little above the ground, in my studio. I thought that perhaps I might find a way to make art from it. I came to my studio one morning, and to my surprise I found the bucket to be full of potatoes. I wondered how this could be? I supposed that someone must have filled the bucket in my absence, but nobody else had ready access to my studio at night. I emptied the bucket at the end of the day, and when I returned the next day, again it was full, almost overflowing with fresh looking potatoes. This strange occurrence repeated itself daily for a week or so. I transplanted the bucket to my living room at home, hung in the same manner, and was astonished to find that when I woke up, the bucket was again full. It was only if I stayed with the bucket through the night that it didn’t fill itself. 
Well, I accepted this superabundant gift, but I’m not a greengrocer, nor do I eat quite so many potatoes, and in any case, I always regarded these potatoes with slight suspicion, since their origin was unknown. They induced wonder, yes, but just a little anxiety too. So eventually I sold the bucket, with it’s extraordinary tuberous fecundity, as art.
I always regretted selling it.
Well, here we are, years later. I decided to revisit that magic bucket, to make a new version. Of course I assumed that this time around it would just be a sham in so far as surely a new bucket wouldn’t create potatoes. With that in mind Magdalena and I bought some potatoes just in case, so that if that old magic weren’t to return, we could fill the bucket. And we agreed to tell you that the bucket had done the job itself. But you know what? Amazingly enough, we left the bucket overnight in the gallery, and it filled itself with potatoes, just like my old bucket had. The potatoes we’d purchased were completely unnecessary. Amazing.

 

installation back portrait2‘On Repeat’ installation view, 2018 (Steffen Kern, Alasdair Duncan and Jonah Gebka)

 

steffen kernSteffen Kern,  o.T. (Aperture), 2018, Kohlestift on paper, 16x28cm

 

fullsizeoutput_664Jonah Gebka, Rechen (Engl. Title: Raking), 2018, oil on canvas and MDF, dimensions variable

 

fullsizeoutput_665Amanda Ure, Painting 111 and 112, 2018, oil on canvas, 30 x 30 cm

 

installation back3‘On Repeat’ exhibition view, 2018

 

installation back1‘On Repeat’ exhibition view, 2018

 

jenny dunseath Jenny Dunseath, Hard Hard Hat Hat, 2018, digital print on silver film

 

fullsizeoutput_6f2Jenny Dunseath, Hard Hard Hat Hat, 2018, digital print on silver film

 

claudio matthias bertoliniClaudio Matthias Bertolini,  Montsalvar 2 & 3, 2017, spray paint on wax, dimensions variable

 

‘On Repeat’ is GiG Munich’s latest exhibition, featuring work by Alasdair Duncan, Jenny Dunseath, Jonah Gebka, Jane Harris, Melina Hennicker, Steffen Kern, Claudio Matthias Bertolini, Michael Schmidt, Amanda Ure, Magdalena Wisniowska.

The starting point for this show was the paper, ‘Genius and Genesis’ first presented by Magdalena Wisniowska at the 2017 Deleuze and Artistic Research Conference at the Orpheus Institute, Ghent.

As part of her investigation of the concept of originality, she argues that the process of repetition has an original because genetic component. This is not the repetition of the same as found in Walter Benjamin’s work on mechanical reproduction or Sigmund Freud’s discussion of trauma. Rather, it refers to our impulse to repeat, to try, to do something again and again, without thought of an outcome. Repetition in this spirit of Nietzsche and Deleuze, would be an affirmation of difference.

Artists in the exhibition use repetition in their work, not simply as a mechanical device (although this feature is present in Gebka’s or Kern’s investigations of the image in its relation to photography) but as a creative because productive gesture. For Alastair Duncan the act of repeating is miraculous; for Jenny Dunseath, absurd; for Jane Harris and Amanda Ure, the beginning of a long meditative process. In their video, Melina Hennicker and Michael Schmidt demonstrate that it has no boundaries, however much we wish to contain it. It often combined with a destructive quality as demonstrated in work by Claudio Matthias Bertolini. All in order to strip back and begin afresh.

On Repeat Saaltext

Genius_and_Genesis

 

On Repeat. Cosmetic.wished.explorer

GiG Munich is pleased to present the new video work – Cosmetic.wished.explorer – by Jenny Dunseath, done specifically for the upcoming ‘On Repeat’ show.

 

Cosmetic.wished.explorer (2018)

Digital film embedded in GIG website for duration of the show.

Duration: 25 seconds

The film cosmetic.wished.explorer raises questions and discussion about the nature of authorship, appropriation, language and interpretation, exposing categories of truth and error. It is a palimpsest of presentations, and positions. Using the advances of current technology, perhaps this is a version of Spatium, the cosmic analogue of the Idea and the mechanism of abstract relations becoming actualised?

The film was made using Google Translate’s instant camera translation app. The app is designed to translate text from signs, handwritten notes, printed menus etc. by just pointing your camera. But what happens if it is used to ‘translate’ non-textual information?

When pointed at buildings (with no text to decipher) the app attempted to ‘translate’ the building in front of it and revealed a magical quality by virtue of its translation of nothing into a different time and place. The unpredictable effect of producing deciphered gibberish revealed a unique series of language constructs.

The title refers to the 3-word location of the filmed building. The 3 words generated from what3words is a new simple method used to describe global locations. In it, the world has been divided into a grid of 3m x 3m squares and each one assigned a unique 3-word address. It proposes that the system enables anyone can accurately find any location and share it more quickly, easily and with less ambiguity than any other system. It uses grid and language to reveal, classify and order.

 

Save the date: On Repeat!

21st September – 26th October

Alasdair Duncan, Jenny Dunseath, Jonah Gebka, Jane Harris, Melina Hennicker, Steffen Kern, Claudio Matthias Bertolini, Michael Schmidt, Amanda Ure, Magdalena Wisniowska

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Repetition. Not opposed to originality. Not the repetition of the same. But a call to productivity. To discovery and experimentation. To repeat is to start again, over and over. It is to affirm the unexpected and the new.

Stefanie Ullmann

peaches N cream

26.05 – 13.07.2018

four1peaches N cream, 2018, installation view

 

installation1peaches N cream, 2018, installation view

 

diagonalback11peaches N cream, 2018, installation view

 

betteryellow1o.T. 2018, oil and acrylic on canvas, 160 x 160 cm

 

betterorange1o.T. 2018, oil and acrylic on canvas, 160 x 160 cm

 

bettergreen1o.T. 2018, oil and acrylic on canvas, 160 x 160 cm

 

betterpurple1o.T. 2018, oil and acrylic on canvas, 160 x 160 cm

 

watercolor1o.T. (series of watercolours on paper) 2017-8, watercolour on paper 32 x 24 cm

 

peach1o.T. 2018, oil and acrylic on canvas, 35 x 35 cm

 

Stefanie Ullmann’s paintings have always been minimal. Even at their most overworked, there was never much to see in or on her small to medium sized canvases. A rather distressed looking surface perhaps, a few meandering brushstrokes, some lines or a couple of smudges. Muted colours. For this exhibition, she has made four larger canvases, brighter and larger than her previous work perhaps, but equally paired down, consisting of a few random marks on pastel coloured ground. A quiet ‘no’ cries out from each individual frame, which is a distant echo of Minimalism’s earlier, much more stark and vehement ‘no’ to values associated with Abstract Expressionism: transcendence, heroism, anguish, ego and preciousness. If Robert Morris used a chainsaw to slice out his rejection of anything that might distract the viewer from the here and now, Ullmann uses the slightest of gestures to question what is the ‘just enough’ for a painting.  A canvas for instance, would seem about right, but brushes are something that could easily be dispensed with. Much of the painting at the exhibition is made directly by squeezing a tube of paint onto unprimed canvas. One squeeze is sufficient for one mark.

Similarly to other minimalist artists, Ullmann directs her ‘no’ against artistic intentionality, the external motivation of a rational type, an idea existing prior to the making of the work which nevertheless dictates its final form and meaning from within. This is why there are no vestiges of illusion in her paintings and no gestures towards representation, and why, unlike many of her contemporaries she does not work between abstraction and figuration. Instead she utilises strategies that do away with intentionality altogether: by reducing the number of elements in her paintings, by rejecting the hierarchies between the component parts, sometimes by painting with her eyes closed and leaving things unfinished. And yet she never quite resorts to the complete impersonalisation of many anti-authorial practices. The personal remains important, her way of navigating what is deliberate and what is not.

The deliberate and the accidental – as with minimalism what we see is what we get.  Here it is a number of marks on a peach and cream background. But this does not cause us to turn away from the canvas to investigate the work’s surroundings and their function within a larger space. The work does not depend on the moving spectator’s visual trajectory in that way. It is not, in Michael Fried’s sense of the term, theatrical, analogous to an actor producing effects on us the audience in real time. The here and now of Ullmann’s paintings always draws us closer. There may be little present in the work, but what is there draws us in, before saying stop, it is enough, now you can go no further. What is there keeps us hovering at the surface of painting, neither allowing us, as a beholder to forget ourselves by entering a state of transcendence nor to move away to engage with the work’s surroundings. With her work, we are always caught between one pole and the other. Between presentness and presence lies their state of grace.

Magdalena Wisniowska 2018

Stefanie Ullmann

peaches N cream

26.05 – 13.07.2018

 

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Vernissage: Freitag 25. Mai, 18 – 21 Uhr

Ausstellungsdauer: 26. Mai – 13. Juli 2018

Öffnungszeiten: Montag – Donnerstag, 15 – 18 Uhr

Bitte nach Vereinbarung unter contact@gig-munich.com


 

GiG Munich is pleased to present the new solo exhibition by Munich artist, Stefanie Ullmann, ‘peaches N cream.’

For the exhibition the artist has produced a new body of work,a series of large-scale paintings and smaller watercolours that wear their bright, pastel colours lightly.

Always a thoughtful and reflective painter, Ullmann has long pursued her unique kind of minimalism, one that slowly alerts us to the most minute of painterly gestures, meditating on the difference between the accidental and the deliberate. A certain roughness of texture perhaps, a brushstroke carelessly meandering across the raw canvas, a hint of colour, a smudge. In the past she achieved this through overworking her canvases, often painting and repainting the same distressed surface. For the exhibition she changed approach, to bring in a new lightness of touch. In an intellectual climate where it is more common to think the supplement or indeed, excess, she makes paintings according to the dictum of the ‘not too much / just enough.’

Susanne Wagner

Angelina

29.03 – 11.05.2018

Angelina 1-2

Susanne Wagner, Angelina, 2018, installation view. Photo courtesy Susanne Wagner.

 

Angelina 2

Susanne Wagner, Angelina, 2018, 77 x 40 x 40 cm, painted ceramic. Photo courtesy Susanne Wagner.

 

Angelina 3
Susanne Wagner, Angelina, 2018, 77 x 40 x 40 cm, painted ceramic. Photo courtesy Susanne Wagner.

 

Angelina 4

Susanne Wagner, Angelina, 2018, 77 x 40 x 40 cm, painted ceramic. Photo courtesy Susanne Wagner.

 

Angelina 5

Susanne Wagner, Angelina, 2018, 77 x 40 x 40 cm, painted ceramic. Photo courtesy Susanne Wagner.

 

GiG Munich is excited to present Angelina, the solo exhibition by German video artist and sculptor, Susanne Wagner.

For the exhibition Wagner has produced a new body of work, a large-scale, site-specific floor installation consisting of seventy seven almost identical square ceramic tiles, each 40 x 40 cm individual tile topped by a slightly large than life dome of the female breast. These tiles are arranged in the exact centre of the room in a diagonal grid-like fashion, four or five tiles across, seventeen tiles deep. They are also painted to emphasise this diagonal pattern, again with each tile divided into quarters, or four squares, all in bright, non-primary colours. To stand at the doorway and to look down at the work is to see a pleasing check-board pattern of squares and undulating lines, salmon pinks, lemon yellows and different shades of brown moving across the room.

The arrangement recalls postmodern critiques of originality, best articulated by Rosalind Krauss in her 1986 essay, ‘Originality of the Avant-garde.’ As she argued, any work that makes use of the grid, cannot lay claim to originality, because the grid is a visual device that can only bear repeating. The same way there is no original and unique grid, there is no unique and original art object. Instead, Krauss rewrites the art object as text, whose meaning is determined by the relation it has with other texts. As a text the work of art has no point of origin and no essence; it is only something that can be endlessly reconfigured. In the case of Wagner’s floor piece, even though each tile is handmade and therefore has unique quality, none can claim to be the one original tile, more meaningful than the other.

But what makes Wagner’s work so exciting is that this repetition pertaining to postmodernism’s discussions of originality is complicated by another kind of repetition arising from a very different kind of discourse. For readers of Judith Butler, it has a performative aspect that addresses the ways in which the categories of gender are constructed in a heterosexual normative society. In this way, it is also very timely, considering that in our current era of ♯MeToo activism, many of the norms consolidating sexual and gender hierarchy are being questioned.  It comes down to Wagner’s use of the breast. The female breast is a primary sexual characteristic but it also functions as a signifier of gender. Real women have breasts – and much of the uproar surrounding Angelina Jolie’s mastectomy had to do with our identification of her as the well-endowed Laura Croft, video game sex symbol supreme.  By isolating, enlarging and repeating the form of the female breast Wagner demonstrates that gender is not a given fact. It is neither an expression of some internal essence, nor is it an objective ideal to which we may aspire to. Gender is something we perform, meaning it is brought about through certain acts on our part. And these are repetitive and often mundane, so much so, that they give gender the illusion of a stable identity. The gender identity we take for granted – with all the notions of ‘real womanhood’ that this assumes – are revealed to be nothing more than a re-enactment of a set of meanings already socially and culturally established.

What this means in turn is that the same acts, which give the illusion of stable identity are also the ones that reveal it to be illusory at the moment repetition fails.  Wagner’s work alerts us to the fact that the same process of repetition, which constructs the gender categories binding us, could also be the key to their undoing.

Magdalena Wisniowska 2018

Susanne Wagner

Angelina

 

 

Angelina 2

Eröffnung: Mittwoch 28. März, 18- 21 Uhr

Ausstellungsdauer: 29. März – 11. Mai 2018

Öffnungszeiten: Montag – Donnerstag, 15 – 18 Uhr

Bitte nach Vereinbarung unter contact@gig-munich.com

 


 

GiG Munich is excited to present the new, site-specific floor installation “Angelina” by German artist, Susanne Wagner.

 

Best known for her video work, Wagner’s current practice has shifted towards sculpture and now involves the use of ceramics in the production of large-scale modular pieces, often juxtaposed with representations of the female body.  While the new work addresses themes of repetition and originality, it also complicates the postmodernist narrative by showing how repetition participates in the cultural construction of sex, gender and the body as ‘original’ because ‘natural’ foundations of identity.

 

With their upward facing breasts, the repeated floor elements of “Angelina” aim (quite literally) to bring to relief the power structures responsible for our assumptions about gender, in an up-to-date tabloid context of Angelina Jolie’s mastectomy, Emma Watson’s feminism-lite and ♯MeToo Twitter activism.

Spekulatives Design – Körper des digitalen Geistes

Eva Leonhard und Lisa Käsdorf

with text by Dr. Betti Marenko

as part of MCBW 2018 and supported by Bayern Design

 

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mcbw3

 

mcbw4

 

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Speculative Design. The body of the digital mind

 

 

A central tenet of techno-utopianism, the desire of living outside and eventually beyond the body’s own finitude, lures us with its promise of immortality – a techno-alchemical version of the elixir of eternal life.
Cinematic imagination shows this desire as a dark and doomed one, the counter-natural, ennui-rising, vampiresque harbinger of an abject deterioration of society – cue a caste of immortals presiding over the world (from Transcendence to the current Netflix series Altered Carbon).
Can this well-rehearsed scenario be imagined otherwise?
What if future humans could successfully transcend their earthbound limitations by accessing full neuro-cognitive uploading? Leaving aside the implications of who would be entitled to the procedure and at which cost – not just for those who can afford it but, critically, for the rest of humanity – it is easy to see how persuasive the idea may be: digital optimization is the future.
A consciousness that becomes entirely digital gives us two conceptual paths to consider.
Either the body is obsolete – and total digitalization signals the absorption of body matter into a flow of codes, bits and algorithmic sequencing – the computational equivalent of the Cartesian body-mind split, with bodies turned into downgraded, disposable, replaceable ‘sleeves’ whose materiality becomes terminally second-rate.
Or else, what appears to be a cognitive externalization must be understood instead as the co-evolution of human minds with techno-digital machines. Here the human body-mind assemblage becomes machine becomes intelligence – whether this intelligence is deemed ‘artificial’ or ‘natural’, it no longer matters.
Maybe it never mattered.
The real challenge is to be able to speculate on this scenario of possible (present?) human-machine co-evolution without necessarily swerving to embrace the theocratic narrative of the singularity – the idea that a super-intelligence will emerge (or for some is emerging already) from the exponentially growing recursive process of
automatic machine learning.
Co-evolution means something else. As French philosopher and mechanologist Gilbert Simondon said exactly 60 years ago, we humans are always already among machines. Likewise, there are no machines without humans. Both evolve. Indeed, they co-evolve, to the point that the boundary between technology and humanity is vague, uncertain, slippery. That is why Simondon also wrote, enigmatically, and rather splendidly: “The robot does not exist”. 1
One day, humanity will wonder why decades were spent feeding irrational fears of AI when there is no artificial intelligence as such, but only one intelligence constantly evolving, mutating, incubating its own difference.
Brain uploading, then, is the tangible expression of this metamorphosis of intelligence which is already happening in a milieu that is at once machinic and corporeal, human and non-human, synthetic and organic. With each search, each click, each update, our cognitive capacities are already uploaded, encoded, some may say ‘evolved’ – in the whirring of a silicon-carbon merger.
Whether humans are conscious of this process or not, perhaps no longer matters either. Evolution is just another word for the manifold hybridizations moulding us and pushing us to the edge of tomorrow. Some may call it intelligence. Just don’t call it robot. 

Betti Marenko 2018

 

1. Gilbert Simondon. 2017. On the mode of existence of technical objects. Minneapolis: Univocal p. 16

 

German translation of text: Spekulatives-Design_deutsch

Contract: wren_Vetrag

 

 

Spekulatives Design – Körper des digitalen Geistes

Eva Leonhard und Lisa Käsdorf

with text by Dr. Betti Marenko

as part of MCBW 2018 and supported by Bayern Design

 

 

n-o-v-a

Opening:  Thursday 8th of March, 7 – 10 pm
8.03. – 22.03.2018
 
A central tenet of techno-utopianism, the desire of living outside and eventually beyond the body’s own finitude, lures us with its promise of immortality – a techno-alchemical version of the elixir of eternal life. Betti Marenko
With its latest exhibition, “Spekulatives Design – Körper des digitalen Geistes,” GiG Munich is excited to be participating in Munich Creative Business Week for the first time. Supported by Bayern Design two young local designers, Eva Leonhard and Lisa Käsdorf, will be presenting new interactive work, which addresses the ontological, epistemic and ethical implications of the digitalisation of the body.
 
Head of Design at Central St. Martins, London, Dr. Betti Marenko, has written a text especially for the exhibition and this will be included as part of the work on show.