Kantstrasse 154a, 10623 Berlin
Do.–Sa. 13–18h+49 30 31014267
Eröffnung 26.04.2019 von 20-22 UhrAusstellung 27.04.- 01.06.2019
Eröffnung 14.02.2019 von 18-21 UhrAusstellung 15.02.- 30.03.2019
Eröffnung 03.11.2018 von 18-21 UhrAusstellung 04.11.- 22.12.2018
For Sam Pulitzer’s third exhibition with Lars Friedrich, titled, “Do displays of solidarity make you cry?,” the artist presents a suite of works on paper, captioned photographs and text-based wall pieces.
The works on paper continue a series started last year in which a stylized image is captioned as if it were a still of a subtitled film. This mixed media series presents images that are informed, on the one hand, by a didactic mode of address and, on the other, by an application of meaning to some of the everyday matter of a contemporary life. The further amplification of these pictures by captions is meant to endow the work with the presence of an inspirational poster. In part sentimental and in other ways insincere, its lines are culled from centuries of social comment and lyric product. For example, in this exhibition, the signage of a sample of vegetarian lunch restaurants in south Brooklyn is accompanied by some bitter lines of poet-re- volutionary Victor Serge or a guild memo that chastises its members in storybook rhyme is overlaid by the final lines of Friedrich Hölderlin’s “To the Fates.”
The mock pomposity of such captioning is to be found also in the exhibition’s photo- graphs. Presented both individually and in sequence, these pictures could fit into the possible anachronism that is the landscape genre. Image-wise these works bear an affinity with the editorial approach doctrinaire to life-improvement marketing—say the reified life scenes that package pharmaceuticals, life insurance or tourism. The works clearly depart from such fancy by focusing its subject matter on the furrows of dispossession and immiseration particular to the social cleavage of town and country as it unfolds in the fully-developed settler colonial pro- ject of the imperial American nation-state.
Lastly, slogans are to be found in each of the gallery’s rooms. One from ad-copy, the other from graffiti, each a generation apart from each other. In their interpellative address, they invite visitors to explore their personal relationship to a historically-determined cynicism who- se lonely and brutal roots proliferate far and wide.
Eröffnung 14.09.2018 von 17-21 UhrAusstellung 15.09.- 27.10.2018
For her exhibition at Lars Friedrich gallery in Berlin, Georgia Sagri invents a social and aesthetic body: an assembly of assemblages and the insides are coming out. The fleshy ripped parts, the touched and informed parts, the messy wet parts that then dry and are cracked and repaired: as these forms collect and assemble, they compose one another, en masse. They are investing in the inside out of forms, onto the negative of the negative and their points of view, looking like from another place, creating an infrastructure from which alternative, embodied organization can be felt. An open apparatus: a set of propositions about the textures and materials of an experimental body. Though cornered and contained, they live together beneath the register of what is properly made. It is a somatic and massified makeup of materials, affects, textures, excesses, abandonments, and multiplicities. An assemblage is a multiplying set of propositions across varying spaces and times: an everywhere irruptable potential to collectively recompose. The assembled body is internally differentiated but indistinct. To assemble is to differentiate.
Her sculptures are both touched and a performance of touching. Sagri knelt, squatted, and bent around a bathroom sink, column base, stairs, and cracked street. She filled each surface with paper — wet, squeezed paper — and its chewed pulp absorbed surface: transient, impersonal dirt held wet and encased by contact. That which gathers in cracks and corners, in improper spaces openly abandoned, in the sinks and drains where no sovereign goes, is collected. “What is staying,” writes Sagri, “is the time or the length of a touch.” Touching is one of those blurring modes, collapsing subject and object. But its ethics are complicated, as José Muñoz asks, “What is it to enact a mode of touching that isn’t about mastery, that isn’t about foreclosure, that isn’t about fusing, that isn’t about collapsing things?” 1 Touching both marks and cleans. As a domestic fiction, the household maintains a bodily arrangement, a particular distribution of resources and erotics. Yet what is assembled here under the title of Household breaks down and alters what the house otherwise “keeps.” As a transformational practice, it tends to the debris of domestic edifices. It insists that a political body must emerge from a site as contested and starved as this.
There is a legend about the archon; that it weaponizes the archive, holding only what is properly valuable and disappearing the rest. A domesticated archive only produces loss. But something resists that house arrest — maybe some remnants, a crowd of them. They index the contour of dirt, dragging it into their cross-temporal assemblage. A sink’s drain: the persistent absent-presence of maintenance. Sagri’s work tends to the emergence of what evades. This is her sculptures’ fugitive performance. Of the multiple etymologies of anarchy – an- arche, against the law and the people without government – Sagri’s Household inscribes another: “without beginnings.”2 An an-originary anarche refuses the cold fiction of a single point — a unit, an individual, a time — to arrange refuse into another kind of durational infrastructure. There are so many times here (and there), and in assembling — collectivizing, making a body — they disassemble beneath the order reproductive management. They have already begun, and ended too. In deviating from origin, in gathering a plurality of living alter-times, Household’s body assembles and supports the fleshed materials of another proposal. An-arche-: deregulated maintenance, erotic support, wayward home, lawless archive.
— Sarah Richter
1 Muñoz, José, and Samuel Delaney. Queer Commons. 25 Mar. 2013, Ypsilanti, Eastern Michigan University Student Center.
2 Sagri, Georgia. “Spaces of Common. Times of Anarchy.” In the selection of texts Solution 275-294 - Communists Anonymous Paperback – November 30, 2017. Publisher: Sternberg Press (November 30, 2017)
Eröffnung 07.06.2018 von 18-21 UhrAusstellung 08.06.- 14.07.2018
Eröffnung 27.04.2018 von 18-21 UhrAusstellung 28.04.- 02.06.2018
The video Untitled (Clouds), 2018 overwrites a stopframe animation around a straw-hatted creature on a lonely mountain with a poem unfolding in the centered subtitles. In six short vignettes the creature’s routine and his habitat, flying skills and gazing is portrayed in an a‑dramatical sucession. The cloud formations, shot by filming clouds of ink in a fishtank from below, are animating a colorful sky overstreching a dried wasteland of rocks moving in parallax (plaster, chickenwire) aiming for a recognisable, coherent set-up for plots of Fantasy. This coherence is ignored by the text, it’s voice as much disconnected to fantasy as to a life in line with its own presets and concepts. The works in the show are keeping very close to their cultural revenants, being engulfed, drenched, soaked with genre to stay in the systemic self-similarity of their cultural brackets and tasks. The most essential part of civil progress is to keep going. Be it the Musical styled paper boys as the cheeky part of the Great Depression, the lively life of splashy fish or the see through illusion of stop-motion, the works are aiming for a spot to still swim, sing and swing under a poisinous green sky that is ruled with an iron fist.
Eröffnung 23.02.2018 von 18-21 UhrAusstellung 24.02.- 07.04.2018
View Press release – Like white on rice. by Simon Thompson
Eröffnung 10.01.2018 von 18-21 UhrAusstellung 11.01.- 17.02.2018
Abstraction is something that takes place in the mind as well as in the material reality of our lives. It’s not just that we read signs and they are meaningful, that we see images and they might hurt us. The reality of abstraction is that we essentially think about ourselves in terms of the money we make as de ning the value we have. Certain forms of con dence can be directly translated into numbers attached to bank accounts, which are at the same time both abstract and often all too concrete. The reality of abstraction in everyday life is not just that of art being true to itself, but of us counting on it to tell us who we are, and how much.
LaKela Brown’s first solo show at Lars Friedrich plays with several forms of the reality of the abstract, from casting real objects in plaster to making coins, from the modernist grid to the forms in which we mediate (social) history. Her sculptural and relief works are often divided regularly in a non-hierarchical display of limited varying forms: earrings, rope-chain, ornamented and heavy expressions of worth and self-valuing, as well as identifying marks like those of the artist’s teeth. In these, a sense of forensic evidence is juxtaposed with playful adornment, radicalizing the question of whether who you are is where you came from (and if you can escape that). Whose formalism, the plaster casts seem to ask, playing on a subtle subjectivity reminiscent of Agnes Martin; and whose visual punch lines, the David Hammons-inspired “chicken heads.”
LaKela Brown’s work subsumes these elements into one method and material, suspending distinctions between fake and real, relaying a different kind of value, one that lies in different forms of representation.
Eröffnung 23.11.2017 von 18-21 UhrAusstellung 24.11. – 23.12.2017
Eröffnung 06.09.2017 von 18-21 UhrAusstellung 07.09. – 4.11.2017
Sonntag 03.09.2017 um 17 Uhr
Depending on how you look at it, aggressive online discourse could be seen as a positive or negative result of media platforms that allow, or demand, regular self expression from people from all walks of life. Within the wider culture, and also specifically within the social spheres visible to me, violent opinion wars fueled by legitimate rage are hosted on corporate platforms and rival factions, with their differing priorities, compromises and blind spots, avoid perspectives they are invested in not hearing. In the end the pros and cons of increasing polarisation weigh against the advantages and disadvantages of meeting in the middle.
Eröffnung 23.03.2017 von 18-21 UhrAusstellung 24.03.–13.05.2017
Eröffnung 18.03.2017 von 16-19 UhrAusstellung 19.03.–30.04.2017
Die Ausstellung findet in der Rosa-Luxemburg-Strasse 22, 10178 Berlin statt.
Während des Gallery Weekend 2017 erweiterte Öffnungszeiten Freitag 12-18 Uhr / Samstag 12-18 Uhr / Sonntag 12-18 Uhr
The exhibition is taking place in the apartment at Rosa-Luxemburg-Strasse 22, 10178 Berlin.
extended opening hours during Gallery Weekend 2017 / Friday 12am - 6pm / Saturday 12am - 6pm / Sunday 12am - 6pm
Eröffnung 09.02.2017 von 18-21 UhrAusstellung 10.02.-18.03.2017
There are three recognizable gestures, the expression, the ready made and the fiction. As if they take turns or play musical chairs, their content is wandering between the different jobs assigned to the outskirts and inner realms of an exhibition.
Eröffnung 30.09.2016 von 18-21 UhrAusstellung 01.10.-12.11.2016
In his second exhibition with the gallery Friedrich Lissmann presents some new black and white oil paintings.
The installation resembles the hovering moment directly after a play comes to an end. When everything and everyone is disassembled back into their individual parts. The separation of figure from environment as well as figures from each other, offers an opportunity to look at things independently and out of context, as if everything were possible and changeable again. But what is at stake is to hang it in balance.
The pasty application of small clusters of paint as a gesture of a pronounced self-awareness, as well as the differentiated use of zinc and titanium white, speaks here of a distinctly painterly confrontation – a confrontation which takes place on slushy grounds. Zinc white has a lower temperature, rather cold, like in one of the corridors. The four turning corridors, when taken together, signal almost a circle. That act of striding through and kneeling in always the same chambers addresses a social wear and tear which is a raddled rug already
Some of the figures are superimposed into their surroundings, some gently glide into new, rigid, material forms. Some of the faces retain an emotional charge, keeping an expression, but without any concrete focus. There are no eyeballs let alone pupils, because there is no longer any opposite. Without an opposite, there is no need to focus. Then you can finally paint for yourself. And for Mudde.
Eröffnung 01.06.2016, 16 – 21 UhrAusstellung 02.06.– 16.07.2016
“I was in a kind-a like cowboy-Western movie, that was both like, um, both like a kind of like a theme park or something … We’re riding around on freight trains and floating down rivers that were like really like in a kind-a spaghetti-Western type town on a beautiful hill … could have also been maybe Monticello … And, uh, there was a guy there … That’s the thing I can’t remember, if it was me, because I don’t think it was, it was like another guy who was there like in prison. A (unintelligible) guy. But … maybe it could have also been me, it was like, um, a ... a sharp shooter. We shot either skeet, or … he shot somebody, but he shot something in a way that where he won a prize and he got all this money and he gambled it away but he was kind of like OK, because he was like a hero to everybody. It was a positive ending. That guy didn’t need money. But it was also, also some kind of prison, right, because then afterwards I was like one day at the prison yard and then the next day I took out the (unintelligible) maximum-security prison. And that was like … all of a sudden that wasn’t in this beautiful sudden placed, um, Western town, but it was like in a basement somewhere, like you know that looked like one of those movies or TV shows rather, where they’re about maximum security prison … Everything made out of concrete and metal … And, uh, I’m having like a kind of like a meltdown in the, uh, dream that (unintelligible) because all of a sudden I get to this prison and I realize it’s not going to be very nice at all ... And then I have to choose, like the guard is not there for some reason, so I have to choose and all the, um, names, the names on the doors are (unintelligible) … but I can have a chance at least to look around … to see who my cellmate is going to be …”
Eröffnung 28.04.2016, 18 – 21 UhrAusstellung 29.04.– 28.05.2016
clearly the future is artificial • intelligence has only furthered the arrival at exhaustion and banality and I prefer fidelity to a specific thing • [much prefer] sewing together pictures as provisional proposals • constantly stretching the hyper image-object ntrinsically these sentences • these paintings • the gallery • this experience • presents itself as a necessary social condition • think before the vastness and spiraling self- referentiality of deep meaning [as a] matter of meaning • literal living in a regimes of excess and travel • in transition, events seem to suggest how to get there with people • with tumblr • modeled and groomed to fit • to have a picture of the productive force • it could be motivated by hand • slow down • expect greater intimacy from social dynamics • power relations • gender dynamics • phased hyperobjects occupy a higher-dimensional space than my vocabulary • I am arguing for its meaning is for everyobe
that ethic stretching back into intimate moments then later talking about paintings generally
Buffy Cain / Nolan Simon
Eröffnung 27.02.2016, 18 – 21 UhrAusstellung 03.03.– 09.04.2016
Eröffnung 26.11.2015, 18 – 21 UhrAusstellung 27.11.2015 – 16.01.2016
Sam's new suite of works on paper is a rouge companion to a black group shown in 2014. In those drawings too, a genre of early floppy disk scenery was aligned with antique craft and embellishing techniques such as Scandinavian rosemaling or wrought-iron design.
The three media offered here vaguely trace the maturation of a man: colored pencil on paper; ink and correction fluid on paper; then laptop to Xerox toner on paper. These sheets present themselves as clerical records or red blueprints for perennial concerns. Cycles of life and laundry are flattened, witchcraft colludes with juvenalia. Not a scarlet letter ‘A,’ but a B health rating shows in a restaurant window. The rings of a tree-stump resembling a fingerprint or radar pattern, a stairwell to progress or endless descent, the homestead, the schoolhouse, a cropping from a Salem-based hardcore band’s album cover, are all replicated as bi-chromatic cryptography—like folk illustrations for a cultural experience somewhere between a New England past and the dawn of CRISPR.
On these scored parchments, images are plotted, outlined, and iterated like a garment from a sewing pattern. Code is implied as subject and form; as the very fabric of life and something against which one might etch out personhood. The drawings propose a kind of cottage industry scale of production, in contrast to some of Sam’s larger undertakings, like his enchained plexi standees, or “A Colony for ‘Them’.” Those larger works have created psyche-spaces that off-gas fumes from the Hades of exhibition-making or art fair output. In these more modest wares, similar themes are invoked, though further sublimated. They invite themselves in.
Das Rheinische Prinzip
Eröffnung 09.10.2015, 18 – 21 UhrAusstellung 10.10. – 14.11.2015
Eröffnung 18.09.2015, 14 – 19 Uhr
18. – 20. September 2015
AVZ Logenhaus Emser Straße 12, 10719 Berlin
Sa: 11 – 19 Uhr und So: 11 – 18 Uhr
Samstag, 19.09.2015, 20 Uhr
Wir haben in den letzten Jahren gelernt, wie man den Umsatz signifikant steigern und den Gewinn in einen Bereich treiben kann, in dem Krankenversicherungskosten im Verhältnis zum Einkommen zu sinken beginnen. Dafür waren eine Reihe von Anpassungen und Einsichten notwendig. Als neue Menschen werden wir uns nun also gegenübertreten. Ich bin schon sehr gespannt darauf! Neben einer handvoll Freestyle-Rapeinlagen, werdet Ihr erfahren mit was für einfachen Tricks man es zu einem überdurchschnittlichen Wohlstand bringen kann. Der ist selbstverständlich nicht für umsonst zu haben. Man könnte dessen Erwerb und Erhalt auch als unbequem beschreiben, da er stetige Aufwände von Körper und Geist verlangt. So ist zusätzlich zu den ermüdenden Produktions- und Verwaltungstätigkeiten ein Geflecht von Beziehungen aufzubauen und zu pflegen, in dem sich zu verhäddern ebenso dazugehört, wie das permanente Angerufenwerden, im Sinne Judith Butlers natürlich. Angerufen von Personen, die mit uns nutzlose und zum Teil menschenverachtende Projekte planen und realisieren, oder von solchen, wo der Übergang zwischen freundschaftlichem und geschäftlichem Austausch schwer auszumachen und zu verhandeln ist. Im Kunstbetrieb ist letztere Sorte eher die Regel als die Ausnahme und ein Grund dafür, weshalb es dort besonders amüsant zugeht. Zum Ausgleich werden jedoch nur sehr wenige mit ausreichend, und eine handvoll Akteure mit üppigen Mitteln bedacht, was mich manchmal traurig macht, auch wenn die liebe Sonne lacht am Morgen und am Abend sich dreht die blaue Kugel wie der Blick in eine Maschine.
Von oben betrachtet geht es also an diesem Spätsommerabend in West-Berlin zum einen um die Herausforderung im ausgehenden Kapitalismus des 21. Jahrhunderts einen Stich zu machen oder eben nicht zu machen, und zum anderen, einen weiteren Tiefpunkt in einen fröhlichen Abschied zu verwandeln.