Interview / Jürgen Klauke / Version 1

Manfred Grübl / Linda Klösel

According to John Cage (1986) the modern art of the 20th century “has done an excellent job opening the people’s eyes. What better could have been done? But now we have to draw our attention to other things, social things.” What has changed for you since the 1970s and especially after 9/11? Has art lost its power to educate and change society or has it – more or less – become a commodity, a means of representation and communication?

Jürgen Klauke

It’s very honorable what John Cage says but this does not necessarily mean that we all have to become social workers. In recent years we have all seen many such “good art projects” – mostly much to hear and much to read but little to see. One would have had to spend days if not weeks to get the big picture – but frankly speaking, this is not the right way to do it – I rather prefer reading a book or watching an interesting theme night on Arte. The 1970s can be regarded as an art laboratory with an extremely high readiness to assume a risk and a reputation for being keen to experiment – undoubtedly representing a period of highly diverse concepts after the agile 1920s and 1930s. Unfortunately, what remains are examples of questionable quality (mostly vain and uninspired repetitions). But the 1970s were also more political and more social in terms of artistic expression. Although there are many things that go wrong in today’s world, little interesting happens and the artistic snapshots after 9/11 are merely illustrative or kitschy in nature. Not to forget the enormous impact 9/11 had in the media and how difficult it was at that time to come up with another issue. This dramatic incident has changed the face of America and other tragic events broadcasted every day influence the world significantly. Both the incidents themselves and their reactions demand our careful attention. My view of the world has been altered slightly but not changed dramatically. The world is becoming an even bigger madhouse, in which we regularly start our lives anew – failure included. Some of these aspects can be found in my work. Bigger is not always better – this is also true when it comes to art. In the end, a piece of art is a commodity but the question remains whether this fact influences the artist when creating a new piece to make it ready for the market.

M.G./L.K.

One of your most explosive works is the Antlitz series. Since the Olympic Games of 1972 you have been collecting and displaying pictures of masks, which do not have a specific chronology. In what way has your work changed after 35 years and where do you think it will go to in the future?

J.K.

This series consisting of 96 pieces was completed in 2000 for my retrospective in the Bundeshalle Bonn, Germany, and is in possession of the National Gallery in Berlin. Right now, the James Cohan Gallery in New York displays it in a unique theme exhibition called masks. That means that my series Antlitze is not moving any further but hopefully it does so in the minds of the beholders. For me personally, masks have always been very interesting to study because of the anonymity they offer but at the same time they long for presence in the media to get their message across. I’m not talking of those masks bank robbers wear when entering a bank.
Antlize shows anonymous icons of the media world as examples of a world becoming more and more anonymous. As we learn to read in them, we give them back their individual expression and take away their anonymity. The distinction of good and bad seems to vanish since armed forces, police and special task forces prefer to remain as anonymous as the crimes they detect. So, in the end you never know who you are facing.

M.G./L.K.

“Those who are bored call for change.” (Søren Kierkegaard) For him boredom is a creative technique for artists but at the same time the “root of all evil.” During the 1980s you intensively dealt with this topic in your group of works called Formalisierung der Langeweile. Why did you deal with that topic at the time and does it still bother you?

J.K.

My life had taken up speed: I indulged in every exquisite aspect of my life, nevertheless, one day I realized that it had become boring and suddenly I found myself in the awkward position of not being able to work anymore. In this period, I felt extremely lonesome being aware of myself all the time. Time was passing by so fast, without any sense. At some point my imagination pulled me out of this agony leading me into a reflexive phase that resulted in the spectacular group of works called Formalisierung der Langeweile. Compared to philosophy and literature this phenomenon appears very seldom in fine arts – most often in Hopper’s or Bacon’s works. Of course, this topic is relevant today, more than ever before. Take a look at today’s society and the media representing it. The symptoms can be very different as there are so many different causes. What I find interesting is that contemporary art, sociology or modern philosophy have almost no interest in this topic. During the preparation work for my “boredom project” I encountered numerous taboos. People are not bored – they must not be bored. Efficiency rules the world.

M.G./L.K.

Your photographs have a very perfectionist and magical touch. Given the black and white contrast, the displayed objects generate a certain distance to the observer creating the desire for a better understanding. Does this desire mean bridging the gap between us and the other, a topic you seem to deal with regularly? What does this insuperable desire mean for your work?

J.K.

What can I say, this a very poetic question. Since I love pictures as much as I love words, “desire” is one of my favorites. Isn’t there a desire for desire? My goal is to visualize in a very sensitive and imaginative way that most promises in our lives are neglected. The minimalistic, non-narrative composition of my pictures linked with the magical touch – as you called it – mirrors my intention and strategy. The picture represents a question without aiming to find an answer to it. Depending on the intensity of the impact the picture has on the brain, the observer may discover both the character of the picture and himself.
People say “nothing is the way it seems and where it seems there is nothing.” Having this in mind, I am aware of my desire generating further expressions in order to be conscious of myself and the world around me. This is how I create pictures and scenarios enabling myself and the observer to be more present.

M.G./L.K.

One could also describe your work as performative photography, staged performances without live audience. Where is the difference between live performances and performances without audience, especially since you perform yourself? Does this fact influence your performances?

J.K.

Since the 1970s I am into what we call today staged, performative and conceptual photography. My live performances started in 1975. Since I also participate actively in my performances and feature in my photographs, even art critics misinterpret these two notions. My live performances reflect the desire for direct confrontation or even finding a way to fathom my ability to work under pressure. Generally speaking, the content refers to previous projects but in fact is more demonstrative, more direct and charged with the necessary portion of aggressive poetry. I never did more than three performances, always taking my own corrective actions. Further performances would simply not make sense. What remains is a video or a short photo documentary outlining time frame and dramatic process. During these performances, in direct confrontation with the author acting as immediate counterpart, the observer is given the possibility of identification. The minimalistic and aggressive nature of my “speech” irritates the observer which has nothing to do with my photographs. Here, people think about the same thing in a very different way.

M.G./L.K.

As an artist you have an exceptional position being author, observer and – in your case – actor at the same time. Is there a special relation between these roles?

J.K.

Every artist is author and observer at the same time. Whenever a picture or a group of works is completed, it is presented to the public. The fact that I feature in my own pictures does not necessarily mean that I am narcissistic. I regard myself as “material”, as representative of the respective idea of man. In the group of works called Very de Nada, I experimented with the change of roles between author and observer, especially in my project Gespannte Spanner. The picture observes the observer, copying him while observing.

M.G./L.K.

In your recent works called Ästhetische Paranoia you do completely without tables, chairs, hats, sticks, etc. Instead, hair is now your favorite requisite. Are you talking of the fusion of male and female? Hair seems to develop its own life being inseparately connected to the person. Is the desire of being approached removed by the desire of being free?

J.K.

My latest group of works, which has not yet been entirely published, is called Wackelkontakt. Part of it, which your question refers to, is entitled Ästhetische Paranoia. Me, a big white bed and 3,6 meters of long black hair in an undefined room. Sensual and cold, hot and narrow, serious and ridiculous: moments of these ceremonial and paranoid moments picture ecstasy. Unspeakable and unexplainable areas have become images. Everything is about being alone in space and in the world. What is important for me is to give room to new ideas and visions inviting the observer to immerse into another world.

M.G./L.K.

When dealing with your works one senses a characteristic rhythm intensified by their titles. There is some sort of sound in the air. Søren Kierkegaard writes “the most abstract idea that can be thought of is sensual ingenuity,” perfectly realized in music. What does rhythm of speech and music mean to you?

J.K.

In my work, titles are regarded as an integral part of them, not as an explanation. The sound of words like “Sonntagsneurosen” or “Zweisamkeitsimaginierung” opens another dimension of the picture. Once somebody wrote of the big blue pictures called Desaströses Ich: The eyes hear the soundtrack of the pictures being intensified by the title.
A very interesting and sensual perception formula which I quite liked. Poetry and especially experimental lyrics enable similar ways of perception. Dada, Artaud, Celan, Rilke, Hölderlin or your fellow countryman Jandl and many others are famous for their word creations, which do not answer questions but generate attention for them.

M.G./L.K.

Last but not least, a question concerning the art market and art fairs: People say that fairs mostly offer higher quality art than museums and biennials. Areas not covered by the art market often remain unmentioned. Under these circumstances, do you think it is possible to evaluate art objectively?

J.K.

I am totally aware of this problem, I read about it in an article on Venice, Kassel, Münster, etc. in 2007. The question is whether it is possible nowadays to differentiate between the countless biennials, the Documenta, other big events or the famous action houses and the innumerable art fairs? Every single aspect is dominated by the market which has always been that way. But if it is the price or certain people that determine the value of a piece of art then there is a strong need for immediate action.