"Talk for 10 minutes about one artwork from any public collection." That's from anywhere around the world. For some reason I roam in my mind through the 20th century. First thought was Joseph Beuys. Perhaps because a drawing I made from a photograph of him is hanging on a wall right in front of me. And his Fettecken I saw in Hamburger Bahnhof in Berlin left an impression on me. But then I try picturing it: "So, of all the possible works of art I have chosen to talk today about a sculpture that is essentially solidified animal fat." The concept behind it is truly interesting, but perhaps I'll keep it as an option for now.
Francis Alys. Another highlight from 2010. I visited the Tate exhibition twice and now have taken out the catalogue from the library to look through for some inspiration. His art is however mostly performance, recorded, which might be tricky to talk about. Nevertheless, Fabiola, below, is a very interesting case (not unlike the rest of his work, mind). Let me tell you why in just a minute.
In the meantime I move away from Alys, go through all my 'art' tabs and look up all the titles I've noted in my moleskines from several past years and almost think I've found it - Otto Dix's Alfred Flechtheim. I could after all talk about what it says about the artist-art dealer relationship (Dix portrays Flechtheim here in a negative light, emphasising his Jewish features, and portraying his profession as just another money-oriented business. He even signs the painting in the background with his own signature. Cheeky)
But I'm still in doubt. And then I remember: Berlinische Galerie, room no.1 - Art Show by the Kienholz couple. If I didn't have to re-write a presentation for tomorrow's 10am German seminar, I'd tell you all about it now. I'd in fact probably write the whole 10 minutes. Which I will for the moment take as a promising sign.
What I can mention now is how Fabiola has come to my notice. I've a whole book on it, but long story short, Francis Alys went around markets in Brazil, Mexico, etc. and bought all the copies of the lost-orginal portrait that he could find, to create this fascinating collection (of nearly 300 works, I believe).So I'm researching Kienholzes in the UCL library today, and come across a book on 76 J.C.s Led the Big Charade, below. Guess what. The artists (or the artist Ed and his wife Nancy, like some have apparently argued) have gone around markets buying cheap images of Christ and fitting them onto the axels of children's toy wagons - all this to make 76 crucifixes(!) I just thought it wonderful how alike the two collections were.
Oh, and hello after a six month break. University is great.
