Plastique Fantastique

Zero Time

30.11.2019 – 17.01.2020

 

am_Plastique-Fantastique-1Plastique Fantastique, Zero Time, 2019, exhibition view

 

am_Plastique-Fantastique-2Plastique Fantastique, Zero Time, 2019, exhibition view

 

am_Plastique-Fantastique-3Plastique Fantastique, Zero Time, 2019, exhibition view

 

am_Plastique-Fantastique-4Plastique Fantastique, Zero Time, 2019, exhibition view

 

am_Plastique-Fantastique-5Plastique Fantastique, Plastique Fantastique Comic Communique:The Story of Cimon, BoDroNo, Eurnikern, NanOr/5, 2019, Digital Prints, Magnets, Ribbons, Plywood, Silver Blankets, 2400 x 2400 mm

 

am_Plastique-Fantastique-6Plastique Fantastique, Plastique Fantastique Comic Communique:The Story of Cimon, BoDroNo, Eurnikern, NanOr/5, 2019, Digital Prints, Magnets, Ribbons, Plywood, Silver Blankets, 2400 x 2400 mm (detail)

 

am_Plastique-Fantastique-7Plastique Fantastique, Zero Time, 2019, exhibition view

 

am_Plastique-Fantastique-9Plastique Fantastique, Plastique Fantastique Avatars: Nan0r/5, BoDroNo, Drone Monkey, 2019, Digital Prints, Magnets, 2200 x 1400 mm

 

am_Plastique-Fantastique-10Plastique Fantastique, Plastique Fantastique Avatars: Termites, Pixel, Funnel Face, 2019, Digital Prints, Magnets, 2200 x 1400 mm

 

am_Plastique-Fantastique-12Plastique Fantastique, Plastique Fantastique Avatars: Nan0r/5, BoDroNo, Drone Monkey, 2019, Digital Prints, Magnets, 2200 x 1400 mm (detail)

 

am_Plastique-Fantastique-13Plastique Fantastique, Plastique Fantastique Avatars: Termites, Pixel, Funnel Face, 2019, Digital Prints, Magnets, 2200 x 1400 mm (detail)

 

am_Plastique-Fantastique-17Plastique Fantastique, CIMON, 2019, Polystyrene, Ribbons, Paint, Foam, I-Pad Screen, 500 x 500 x 500 mm

 

am_Plastique-Fantastique-18Plastique Fantastique, CIMON, 2019, Polystyrene, Ribbons, Paint, Foam, I-Pad Screen, 500 x 500 x 500 mm

 

am_Plastique-Fantastique-19Plastique Fantastique, CIMON, 2019, Polystyrene, Ribbons, Paint, Foam, I-Pad Screen, 500 x 500 x 500 mm

 

am_Plastique-Fantastique-20Plastique Fantastique, Spacehex Dragon, 2019, Digital Print, Plywood, Wood, Ribbons, Metal and Wood Table, Perspex, 2200 x 1000 x 800 mm

 

am_Plastique-Fantastique-21Plastique Fantastique, Spacehex Dragon, 2019, Digital Print, Plywood, Wood, Ribbons, Metal and Wood Table, Perspex, 2200 x 1000 x 800 mm (detail)

 

am_Plastique-Fantastique-22Plastique Fantastique, Spacehex Dragon, 2019, Digital Print, Plywood, Wood, Ribbons, Metal and Wood Table, Perspex, 2200 x 1000 x 800 mm (detail)

 

am_Plastique-Fantastique-23Plastique Fantastique, Spacehex Dragon, 2019, Digital Print, Plywood, Wood, Ribbons, Metal and Wood Table, Perspex, 2200 x 1000 x 800 mm (detail)

 

am_Plastique-Fantastique-24Plastique Fantastique, Mars Earth Sigil, 2019, Digital Prints, Magnets, Ribbons, Plywood, 3000 x 1400 mm
Plastique Fantastique, Witches Ladder, 2019, Rope, Feathers, Dimensions Variable

 

am_Plastique-Fantastique-25Plastique Fantastique, Mars Earth Sigil, 2019, Digital Prints, Magnets, Ribbons, Plywood, 3000 x 1400 mm
Plastique Fantastique, Witches Ladder, 2019, Rope, Feathers, Dimensions Variable
photos: Jonah Gebka, Magdalena Wisniowska

 

To a certain extent we are all used to the idea that art involves fiction. The events described by a novel are not real, neither is the play performed in the theatre, nor the bunch of flowers painted on a canvas. When Plastique Fantastique presents “Zero Time,” an exhibition which deals with a question familiar from science fiction – whether we, as a people, should stay on planet earth and try to sort out our mess, or whether we should leave instead, and seek our future elsewhere – it is tempting to think that the exhibition with its video, performance and installation, is that which is fictional. But this is not what the work demands from us. The kind of “fictioning” pursued by Plastique Fantastique shows that it is our reality, and not the video or performance, which is fictional – they disrupt the structures of our dominant world order to reveal them as myth. 

It is not that the exhibition presents a fiction, but involves the practice of “fictioning”.  Plastique Fantastique is an art collective of Simon o’Sullivan, David Burrows,  Alex Marzeta,  Vanessa Page and Benedict Drew. Simon o’Sullivan , professor of Art Theory and Practice in the department of Visual Cultures, Goldsmiths and David Burrows, Reader in Fine Art at the Slade, work in theory as much as in practice, and they define the meaning of “fictioning” in their 2019 book, Fictioning: The Myth Functions of Contemporary Art and Philosophy. In their introduction, they trace the concept of fictioning philosophically through Plato’s contaminated opposition between poetry and philosophy – poetry being fictional, philosophy, having to do with truth – showing how more recently Deleuze replaces this opposition with Nietzsche’s fantastic theatre of metamorphosis. They also show how the tension between fiction and truth has been addressed by contemporary art, arguing that there is an efficacy of fiction when it is experienced as fact.  As a performative gesture fictioning is generative of social identities and relations. It brings about a truth which does not yet exist by fictioning it.

I like to understand the shift in relations produced by their performative fiction, in terms of the experience this kind of fictioning engenders.  It is not the relation of a predetermined human subject to its equally determined object. It is rather, the chaosmotic process of combining the sensory event with its network of associations, an affection and all the affects beyond experience, which it harbours. The ‘I’ is not what experiences the work of art. The ‘I’ here is produced in the encounter. When I engage with art I like to think this involves a different “I” to my everyday one, maybe there isn’t even an “I” here to speak of, but the complete participation in a creative activity. 

Plastique Fantastique creates a world very different from our own: a more colourful one, more glamorous, glittery, extravagant.  A future techonologically advanced world, but also a medieval, mystical one. It runs parallel to ours and we are welcome to visit it anytime Plastique Fantastique might exhibit or perform. 

Magdalena Wisniowska 2019

elements

Lukas Hoffmann, Andrea Zabric

26.11.2018 – 18.01.2019

 

fullsizeoutput_76e

 

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

 

MICHAEL LUKAS occupied corner, catalogue entry

Just as there are two ways of interpreting the aesthetic object, there are two ways in which the work of Michael Lukas can be approached. If we take the perspective prior to aesthetic experience, the work becomes the object of our study. We begin by situating the work and cataloguing its numerous themes. These include but are not limited to the fields of ontology, topology, geography, social science and history. From the perspective of aesthetic experience however, we need to examine the kind of experience the work engenders, which I would argue is unique. Perhaps the term aesthetic experience is misleading as Michael Lukas’s work involves much more than the traditional sense of the term, with the object to be viewed by the human subject, the individual artwork to be judged by the art expert, the connoisseur. Michael Lukas’s work presents a problem: in Deleuze’s words, it forces us to think.

The site-specific work we see at GiG Munich does not exist as the one or even the group of paintings, what we know as compositions of brushstrokes on wood or canvas. It consists of the relations and connections these material elements make with each other, with other paintings, with the artist and with us, the viewer. The relations are physical but also abstract or intellectual, the connections between nebulous ideas just as important as those made by objects in Euclidean space. In other words the painting installation of Michael Lukas stages an encounter, an encounter always being the confrontation between a set of forces. The result of the encounter is an assemblage of affects.

For Spinoza, who is my main reference point here, the forces set up in the encounter have two possible outcomes. The encounter results either in the increase of the capacity for action, which is perceived as pleasurable, or in its decrease, which is felt as pain. The assemblage of affects is the consequence of the first kind of encounter, the pleasurable composition of relations, which ultimately is to bring us knowledge of God. Deleuze complicates matters by insisting that in the encounter, the position adopted by the body is one of combat. In combat, forces struggles against each other, going across and breaking up the organised body, as set within its boundaries. For combat to be considered by Deleuze as a positive encounter, this struggle cannot be resolved with the dominance of one force over the others. Any kind of resolution compromises combat’s inherent creative element. Something new is only produced when the struggles of the forces is maintained.

Michael Lukas’s work keeps up this tension, this struggle between various forces. He uses the frame, a repeated motif in his paintings and physically manifest as a sculptural relief hanging in the gallery corner, to demand from us the move out of an organised framework – to shift from one material aspect to another, to make those intellectual connections we would otherwise not make, all the time preventing us from ever settling on the one object, the one image, the one idea. When encountering Michael Lukas’s work, we are forced to think, in that we are forced into a position of creativity. It spurs us to action. But it never allows this activity to be resolved. We are continually intrigued, looking, making sense, thinking.