The Art of Interruption: a Comparison of Works by Daniel Libeskind, Gerhard Richter, Ilya Kabakov
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THE ART OF INTERRUPTION: A COMPARISON OF WORKS BY DANIEL LIBESKIND, GERHARD RICHTER, ILYA KABAKOV DISSERTATION Presented in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree Doctor of Philosophy in the Graduate School of The Ohio State University By Wendy K. Koenig, M.F.A. * * * * * The Ohio State University 2004 Dissertation committee: Approved by Professor Stephen Melville, Adviser Professor Myroslava M. Mudrak __________________________________ Professor Lisa Florman Adviser Department of History of Art Professor Helen Fehervary ABSTRACT This dissertation examines the Jewish Museum Berlin by Polish-American architect Daniel Libeskind, the painting cycle October 18, 1977 by German painter Gerhard Richter and three installations–Incident at the Museum, or Water Music; Healing with Paintings; and the Communal Kitchen–by Russian artist Ilya Kabakov within the context of Rezeptionsästhetik (aesthetics of reception), associated with Hans Robert Jauss and Wolfgang Iser, and the aesthetic theories of Theodor W. Adorno, Walter Benjamin, Bertolt Brecht, Martin Heidegger and Victor Shklovsky in order to illustrate the commonalities between the works of art in terms of thematic content, the use of “interruptive” techniques and their capacity to create the conditions for the possibility of a valid aesthetic experience in the late 20th and early 21st centuries. Each of the above works of art addresses issues of memory, loss, mourning or exile, and does so in a manner that, I argue, acknowledges and successfully contributes to the development of its respective medium (whether architecture, painting or installation). Such innovations are revealed to a greater degree, I believe, when the works are considered in conjunction with one another rather than separately. Similarly, corresponding aspects of the theoretical writings by the various authors are illuminated when they are brought into a dialogue around the notion of “interruption” and in tandem with actual experiences with the works of art. ii The “interruptive” techniques and particular innovations of these artists emerge as significant tendencies for post-World War II and post-Soviet era art in a European context. iii ACKNOWLEDGMENTS I wish to thank my adviser, Dr. Stephen Melville, and my committee members, Dr. Myroslava M. Mudrak, Dr. Lisa Florman and Dr. Helen Fehervary, for their intellectual support, thoughtful suggestions and patience during this process. I am indebted my parents, Dale and Corinne Koenig, for their tireless canine assistance, financial support and overall endurance. I am grateful to Mack, Boo and Bailey for many trips to the park. I wish to express gratitude to John Stone for his friendship and computer wizardry and to my friends at Bicycle Sport in Louisville (Ken, Kerry, Brad, Steve and Alex) for technical support and spirited conversations over the years. I thank my colleagues at Middle Tennessee State University, Dr. Nancy Kelker, Dr. Debrah Sickler-Voigt, Dr. Nadine Hawke and Rick Rishaw, and at Ohio State, Nora Kilbane, Melissa Wolfe, Aida Stanish, Stephanie Bernhardt, Steve Hunt, Rebecca Twist and Doug Zullo, for their support and friendship. Finally, I am grateful to Marsha Morrison for her tremendous intellectual and emotional support, patience and understanding over the past eleven years. iv VITA June 21, 1966 . Born - Indianapolis, Indiana 1998 . M.F.A. History of Art, Ohio University 1998 - 2003 . .Graduate Teaching Assistant and Instructor, Department of History of Art, The Ohio State University 2003 - 2004 . .Instructor, Art Department, Middle Tennessee State University 2004 - Present . .Assistant Professor, Art Department Middle Tennessee State University PUBLICATIONS Research Publications 1. Wendy Koenig, “The Surface of History: Gerhard Richter’s October 18, 1977.” Parnassus, the annual publication of the Allen R. Hite Art Institute of the University of Louisville, 30-43, (2002). FIELDS OF STUDY Major Field: History of Art v TABLE OF CONTENTS Page Abstract . ii Acknowledgments . iv Vita . v Chapters 1. Introduction . ..1 2. The Phenomenon of “Interruption” in the Visual Arts . 22 3. Daniel Libeskind’s Jewish Museum Berlin . 63 4. Gerhard Richter’s October 18, 1977 . 97 5. The “Total” Installation of Ilya Kabakov . .139 6. Conclusion . 180 Appendix: The Baader-Meinhof Group and the Red Army Faction . .187 Bibliography . 205 vi CHAPTER 1 INTRODUCTION I began my research with questions of memory and absence: how the memory of something as vast as childhood is momentarily condensed into the smell of hot roofing tar or the sugary crispness of marzipan icing. I wondered how an artist might approach the task, or burden, of other people’s memories, as well as the memory of a people, of a city, or of a nation that finds itself in a moment of crisis? There is no doubt that memory is selective, but what forces must come together to nominate a particular experience or sensation to a coveted position within one’s long term memory? Questions emerged about physical manifestations of memory, absence and loss: the difficulties surrounding the concept of the “monument” (or memorial) in the late 20th century and the search for a new sculptural and architectural language that could avoid recalling the voice of the perpetrator. During a trip to the Sachsenhausen concentration camp (currently preserved as a memorial) outside of Berlin on a cold, sunny December day, I walked and looked in silence as a tourist to both the location and the reality of being a prisoner (or guard). I supposed that the suffering, the fear, the tedium, the resignation, and the hope that form such an experience are, likely, not recalled in the totality of the camp itself or of the time spent there, but rather in the small, perhaps insignificant, details that became daily companions: the color of the paint peeling from 1 the wall, the weave of a uniform, the sound of a train whistle, the smell of rotten food. I noticed the rusted green loudspeakers hanging from poles and felt an ominous sense of dread; for some it may have been the loudspeakers, at once watchful and threatening, that became a visual evocation of their misfortune. In his “Berlin Chronicle” of 1932, Walter Benjamin warned: He who has once begun to open the fan of memory never comes to the end of its segments. No image satisfies him, for he has seen that it can be unfolded, and only in its folds does the truth reside—that image, that taste, that touch for whose sake all this has been unfurled and dissected; and now remembrance progresses from small to smallest details, from the smallest to the infinitesimal, while that which it encounters in these microcosms grows ever mightier.1 If one accepts that the fan of memory progresses always toward the infinitesimal, the conventions associated with the creation of a monument, often generalized and larger than life, seem to have emerged from somewhere other than memory itself. A monument typically stands as an external imposition of meaning, rather than something evolving from the details of the experience or the sensation of remembering. My initial investigation turned to works of art that possessed a transformative power similar to the intense sensation of a memory and that addressed, at some level, experiences of absence, loss, mourning or exile. Specifically, I considered the Jewish Museum Berlin by Polish- American architect Daniel Libeskind, the October 18, 1977 cycle of paintings by German painter Gerhard Richter, and three installations by Russian artist Ilya Kabakov, the Incident at the Museum, or Water Music; Healing with Paintings; and The Communal Kitchen. During the course of my research, my more abstract questions about memory and absence gave way, in the face of my actual experiences with the works, to an interest in the nature of those experiences and the difference between a valid work (one that creates the conditions for the possibility of a valid experience) and 2 one that fails to find a place within a larger aesthetic/historical conversation. Like a sudden memory that produces a feeling of uncertainty and a call for reflection rather than a determined fact, the effect of each of these works depended, in part, upon their refusal to transmit a didactic message, their hesitation to direct or demand. Although each of the works has an undeniable connection to an historical period or event (the Holocaust, the activities of the Baader-Meinhof group in 1970’s Germany, the communal living situation in the Soviet Union), the works appear to be transformative in so far as they are necessarily experienced at some remove from their context, in the manner of a “quotation.” In his 1994 book The Man Without Content, Giorgio Agamben writes of the power of the “quotation” in relation to the writing of Walter Benjamin: The particular power of quotations arises, according to Benjamin, not from their ability to transmit the past and allow the reader to relive it but, on the contrary, from their capacity to ‘make a clean sweep, to expel from the context, to destroy.’ Alienating by force a fragment of the past from its historical context, the quotation at once makes it lose its character of authentic testimony and invests it with an alienating power that constitutes its unmistakable force.2 Although it is important to consider the works in their historical context, in terms of both subject matter and the circumstances surrounding the creation of the work, part of the validity of the encounter with the works is the fact that they also exist in a quotational sense, that they transcend