Culture

Check it out.

We’re not going to Berlin until October, so we’ll miss Ostpunk, an exhibit revisiting the punk movement in the GDR (East Germany). The web site plus this article from Deutsche Welle will have to suffice.

When Michael Böhlke, otherwise known as “Pankow,” took to the stage at the opening of Germany’s first-ever exhibition on punk in the GDR last Friday, it was as if the last 25 years had never happened. Reunited with his former fellow renegades, he brought down the house.

“It felt so right — I realized that I was born to perform,” he said later. But while members of many former punk bands in West Germany went on to become household names — die Toten Hosen, die Ärtzte, Einstürzende Neubauten, to name but a few — Pankow never managed to carve out a successful musical career for himself.

Like many of the GDR’s punks, his flirtation with counterculture had lasting repercussions. In the late 1980s, he was refused permission to study theater directing and forced to train as a mechanic. His former girlfriend Jana — whose photo features in the exhibition — was sent to jail for her punk activities and is psychologically traumatized to this day.

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Broadly dismissed in the west as nihilistic, punk in the GDR was fuelled by optimism and a desire to change society.

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“In retrospect, I was probably more of a hippy,” shrugged Pankow. “I had a vision; I was full of hope that things could improve. We didn’t do drugs and we didn’t drink — we thought we were better than everyone else, and every last loser in the GDR drank beer like it was going out of fashion, so being a teetotaller was a form of rebellion.”

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The cultural depth of GDR punk is reflected in the exhibition. Housed in a former industrial warehouse in Prenzlauer Berg, a neighborhood in the eastern part of the city, the show features paintings, drawings, print graphics, photography, super 8 film, collages, rare audio footage and miscellaneous pop culture ephemera such as record covers, buttons, flyers and posters.

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“Punk inevitably became political very fast,” said Pankow. “If you were in a band, you had to apply for permission to perform in public and audition before a committee that would assess your musical competence, the way you looked — and above all, whether you were politically acceptable. The punks refused to go along with this — it was considered a compromise.”

As the youthful rebellion began to spiral out of state control, punks in the GDR were no longer seen as disaffected teenagers — they were denounced as enemies of the state. By 1983 the secret police had sunk its talons into the movement and the scene was slowly but surely infiltrated with informants, forced under pressure from the State to choose between cooperation, a jail sentence, expulsion or military service.

[Image from the Ostpunk website.]

It’s called The Pit.

This isn’t precisely why we’re headed to Berlin, but it is indicative of a free-wheeling artistic culture that we find attractive.

While it’s not unusual for critics to suggest the imbibing of illicit substances to make atrocious artistic performances and events more bearable, it is less usual for the producers of a theatrical piece to promote drug use in a bid to enhance the audience’s enjoyment of their show.

But this is exactly what the artistic director of the Neuköllner Opera House in Berlin is doing. Bernhard Glocksin is encouraging members of the audience to smoke joints while taking in performances of “La Princesse Jaune (The Oriental Princess)”, the one-act druggy opera by Camille Saint-Saens.

— Taking High Culture Literally, Deutsche Welle

Yes, I am aware that the literal title is “The Yellow Princess.” The production’s subtitle appears to be “Or, in the cat skin of the Manga Queen.”

[image from the Neuköllner Oper

Jason Fox’s Jeff by Michael Cambre

Check out mentions of James’s “Free the Art” project at Tom Moody’s blog and in artnet news.

Remember that this was actually Michael Cambre’s idea, which he suggested as a comment to this blog post. Michael contributed five(!) color drawings.

Come on people! We only have two images in the gallery of PS1 Greater New York artist sketches so far, now that I just added Tom Moody’s entry.

Let’s get some more up there! You can email images or links to James or me.

It’s a rather slow art week, but we’re going to an opening tonight in the East Village of a 2-person show that includes our friend Derick Melander. He curated an awesome group show in DUMBO last summer, which is how we met him.

Derick Melander, Wedge

His description:

One of my new works is called Wedge. It is made from ordinary folded clothing that cascades from the wall to the floor. The clothing is arranged so that the actual brands embroidered on the clothing tags are displayed one below the next. As you read the tags, they spell out the following “Brand Poem”:

No Boundaries | 2 | Ecko | 2 | Discus | s

So… | U | And I | Underscore | A Line | Barely There

U | Breakaway | Access

And I | Report | Zero Exposure

James has invited artists to submit sketches of the works in Greater New York at PS1, since photography is not allowed, and there are few images available on the lousy flash web site.

I set up a gallery for the images, and just put up the first image, by M. River, of Frankie Martin and Cory Arcangel’s video in the elevator.

Installation detail

Entrance to larger room of installation

The show is only up for a few more days, so head down to Soho ASAP if you haven’t seen it. We weren’t able to get into the main room at the opening, as it was too crowded. I’m very glad we went back. The Barry McGee show at the other space is diverting, but pales in comparison to Swoon’s installation.

Two things I enjoyed today:

First, Tom Moody on Paul McCarthy at the Haus der Kunst in Munich. An excerpt:

Unlike US art institutions, which filter art for the delicate sensibilities of small children, Victorian grandmothers, and Newt Gingrich, European museums don’t protect viewers from the sight of icky penises and soiled butt cheeks.

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I watched most of this vid [Sailor’s Meat/Sailor’s Delight, 1974] at the Haus Der Kunst, sitting on a seat in the main gallery with all this kinky sexual imagery right out there in plain view. There were no furtive darkened rooms for creepy behavior as in the US, but headphones did protect the other museumgoers from McCarthy’s disturbing grunts and Deliverance-like squeals. Damn, the early 70s were an interestingly depraved time, partly owing to the end of the sexual revolution that conservatives are always complaining about, partly because the median age of the US population was about 22 and cranky oldsters were not allowed to run the show, as they do now.

Second, Wooster Collective’s images of Banksy in the West Bank, including the work he put directly on the West Bank “wall”.