Rebecca Horn
Martin-Gropius-Bau, Berlin
Berliner Festspiele
5 October 2006 - 15 January 2007

As seen by Rea Cris

This is an exhibition of a revered artist. Though not a retrospective, the Martin-Gropius-Bau hosts the first comprehensive exhibition of German artist, Rebecca Horn’s work since 1994. The exhibit encompasses installations, drawings, sculptures and films from 1964 to 2006 curated by the artist herself. Previously staged in London and Lisbon, the Berlin show is the largest. A contributor to the documenta 5, 6, 7, 9 in Kassel, Germany, Horn has exhibited her work at the Pompidou Centre, Paris; Tate Gallery, London; Stedelijk Museum, Amsterdam and Guggenheim Museum, New York. She currently divides her time between Berlin, Paris and New York City.

The exhibit ‘starts’ with documentation of her numerous performances, most notably being Pencil Mask (1972). Like a cabinet of curiosities, these performances are documented with both pictures and the actual artefacts used. The artefacts are displayed in their Victorianesque travelling cases, all behind the guard of a display case. The exhibit is sprinkled throughout with her drawing consisting of finger painting, colour pencil drawing and ink splattering. But the most impressive pieces of work are her installation and sculpture which take the form of kinetic mechanisms. These included such materials as cellos, mirrors, shoes, books, charcoal, paint, skulls, javelins, feather fans, metronomes, small metal hammers, black water basins, spiral drawing machines and possibly mercury.

She is known for working with feathers, a lot. The juxtaposition of something as fragile and unpredictable in its movements as feathers married to a tiny precise solid mechanism is incredibly accomplished. The mechanisms do not imprison the feathers, but rather there is a symbiotic relationship where both benefit from the other’s characteristic traits. The mechanism inherits the delicate and soft nature of the feathers while the feathers inherits the indestructible nature of the copper mechanism. In the circle of the eagle (2001) the brown eagle feathers fan out like a peacock’s tail. Whether intentional or not the shadows case by the sculpture creates a whole dance of its own, reminding one of the intricacy of lace. Floating Souls (1990) incorporates sheet music and black feathers. The mechanism seems to be straining to lift and display these music sheets; it’s a desperate attempt of withering pride and we take pity on the little determined and stubborn machine. We wish to help but don’t know how or even if we should. The twin of the crow (1997) (pictured above) is another feather sculpture. The black feather fan face each other and proceed to slowly bow over each other in a respectful ritual.

Another of Horn’s favourite ‘symbols’ in her work is a long and large sharp poll, resembling either a javelin stick or a blown up needle. This is the most threatening aspect of Horn’s work, especially like in Circle for a Broken Landscape (1997) where it circles and searches the room as if looking for a culprit to a crime committed in it’s surrealist landscape with butterfly wings (also mechanised) and binoculars. Her series Kafka Cycle has animated books that flap their cover jackets like butterflies. Books have never been inanimate objects for me, primarily because of the stories contained within them, but in this instance Horn has given them personalities. One thinks of books as creative or adventurous, but who would have thought of them as lazy or pensive or nervous and all conveyed in the flapping of their ‘wings’.

In some instances you wonder whether the sculpture or installations have ‘performed’ their act long before. Ying and Yang Drawing the Landscape (2002) is an installation of black and white sand forming a ying-yang. Above two Japanese painting brushes graze the sand, minutely moving it. You wonder whether this piece takes hours to complete or whether it is already finished. Or more notably Les Amants (1991) where funnels of paint are attached to hose which a regular intervals spray across the wall. Though there is paint on the wall, the hoses do no sprays anymore paint but seem to go through the movements for the benefit of demonstration.

Mechanisms have usually belonged to the realm of men, yet here is a woman using the medium for her artwork. But these sculpture and installations could not have been done by anyone else other than a woman. There is a trust placed in Horn’s sculpture. They perform their dance with such dedicated and punctual precision that you gladly anticipate it to start, rather than with cynical boredom. This fact about Horn’s work is comforting. The rhythmic movement and exact precision is dependable and reassuring like the trust placed in the movements of the sun. Horn’s mechanism are deadly quiet, the only noise is the one we are meant to hear, such as the small metal hammer hitting a bundle of charcoal or a cello being played.

It is rare to enter an exhibition that gets you excited and inspired. The sheer size of the exhibit and the number or works on display was anything but daunting and I left feeling the need to do something creative urgently before this energy, which had transpired, between the works and me evaporated.

http://www.rebeccahorn.org/
http://www.rebecce-horn.de/
http://www.berlinerfestspiele.de/