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ANDREAS GURSKY
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from a world spirit's-eye view
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INTRODUCTION
After the big retrospective in the MOMA 2001, a new big show in the Munich 'Haus der
Kunst' is dedicated to the photographer whose '99 cent II Diptychon' (1999) has recently
been auctioned at Sotheby's for $3,346,456 -
the highest price ever paid for a photograph: Andreas Gursky.
Born in 1955 as son of a commercial photographer, he studied photography
from 1977 to 1981 with Otto Steinert at the Folkwangschule in Essen and,
on instigation of Thomas Struth, at the Staatliche Kunstakademie in
Düsseldorf - yes, the bastion of other giants like Joseph Beuys, Sigmar Polke, Anselm Kiefer and Gerhard Richter, where he joined the
class of Bernd and Hilla Becher until 1987, together with Thomas Ruff, Tata Ronkholz, Candida
Hofer, Petra Wunderlich, Axel Hütte, Jörg Sasse, Thomas Struth.
Nearly graduated, they all start a successful career, although only
Gursky succeeded in becoming the 'world's greatest living photographer'.
SUBJECT MATTER
Gursky soon replaces the industrial settings of the Bechers with the world of leisure.
Graudally, also people are introduced: from the
solitary wanderer under a bridge to the masses of raver parties and
sport events. But increasingly also anonymous people at work: in the
stock exchange, the parliament, the factory. In still other photos,
people give way to the buildings in which they live - apartments and
hotels in cities like Hong Kong, Cairo, New York, Brasilia, Tokyo,
Stockholm, Chicago, Athens, Singapore, Paris, and Los Angeles - or work:
industrial plants and offices. And, finally, the accumulation of
people is often replaced with the accumulation of goods: in
department stores and libraries, and, eventually, the accumulation of constructive
elements in abstract patterns: from blocks of rock (Cheops, 2006), over
the knots of a carpet ('Untitled I, 1993) to the elements in a
neutrino tank (Kamiokande, 2007).
SIZE
During his training, Gursky used the traditional formats (30 or 36
inches). From 1988 he introduces large formats, and from 2000 onwards
he even proceeds to combining sheets
to produce giant prints up to five
meter.
This inflation of the size, however, does not entail a corollary
enlargement of the object, like with Claes Oldenburg, as rather the
construction of large panoramas, exemplary in 'Montparnasse' (1993).
In order to achieve this, Gursky has to distance himself ever
further from his object and to elevate himself above it: from another
apartment building (Hong Kong, Shanghai Bank, 1994), from a crane (Mayday V), and even from a helicopter (Bahrain).
The adoption of a bird's-eye view goes hand in hand with an opposite move:
zooming in to the tiniest detail. The high resolution of his images
allows us to discern the tiniest details: on Montparnasse (1993)
the details of the countless living rooms behind the
windows, on Bahrain
(2005) the bolides on the racetracks, on Beelitz
(2007) the asparagus in the baskets of the
pickers, and on the
photos of the mass-meeting in
Pyongyang (2007) the expression of each of
the countless faces.
Let us remark that an increase in perspective, even one that goes hand
in hand with a zooming in on the details, need not necessarily lead to a
dramatic increase in size. The question remains what may have been the
reason for Gursky's predilection of giant size. Before answering this
question, let us first have a look at the other characteristics of
Gursky' photos
DIGITAL MANIPULATION
As soon as the technique is available, Gursky proceeds to the digital manipulation of the image.
Of colour in the first place. Colour has long been experienced as inartistic,
also in the Becher circle, until William Eggleston conquered the MOMA in New York with his
'New Color Photography'
in 1976. From
1981 onwards, Gursky joins the new trend. But his colours are not
precisely realistic. He often chooses
them from a rather
restricted array. Such colouristic homogenising - exemplary in '99 Cent
II Diptychon' (1999) - leads
to a repetitiveness that comes to endorse that of the objects depicted. In
a series like 'Stock exchanges', the stockholders thereby seem to be
stuck in a uniform.
The most drastic digital intervention is the combination of distinct
shots in one and the image. The number of
shots may vary from two (Montparnasse 1993)
to some dozen in images like 'Stockholders
Meeting' (2001), or 'F1 Boxenstopp'
(2007). In '99 cent II Diptychon' (1999) also the reflection of the merchandise on the ceiling is
added, and in 'Mayday V' (2001)' some stores are added to the Westfalenhalle.
Such digital collage necessitates the above mentioned homogenising of
colour, because Gursky's collages are not collages in the traditional sense
of the word. In traditional collage, heterogeneous elements are combined
to an estranging whole. With Gursky, a probable reality is constructed
from related fragment in the real world: 'I strive for a condensation of
reality'
In his construction of a new reality, Gursky does not hesitate, finally,
to remove unwanted elements from his photos. In his 'Rhein II' (1999)
every trace of industrialisation is eliminated,
so that it seems as if a
virgin
river streams through unspoilt nature,
and in
'Stockholm public library' (1999) the floor and an elevator are omitted.
FROM DOCUMENT TO CONSTRUCTION
With Gursky, digital manipulation is obviously more than some
cleaning up of the image. We are dealing with a sovereign (re)construction
of reality,
rather than with the usual 'documentary' reduplication of it.
And such urge for sovereign control sheds a new light on the combination
of macro and micro level. Gursky's eye wants to reach the tiniest
detail, but is not prepared to give up its broad view. That is why he
equally zooms out, without losing the details from sight. Nothing should
escape the voyeuristic greed. That is why
Gursky willingly gives up the
traditional Renaissance perspective, that wanted to overlook the world
from one single vantage point - with all what that entails in blurring
of the image in the periphery and the depth. The stereoscopic human
eye thus is multiplied into the hundred eyes of Argus - if not into the
all-seeing eye of god that is everywhere - to the left and the right,
above and below, nearby and far away. That explains why Gursky's images,
although he takes a bird's eye view, and although his eagle' eye
penetrates the remotest corners of the image, nevertheless look rather
flat, as if it were
decorative carpets. That equally explains why the viewer
is not assigned a place from within the image:
he never knows where
he is situated. And that is certainly not only because Gursky' image are taken form
unusual vantage points.
It equally explains why Gursky submits the huge amount of details to the
described homogenisation. That is an attempt at restoring the unity that
threatens to fall apart through the multiplication of vantage points.
Suddenly, a further characteristic of Gursky's images catches the eye.
The multitude of separate elements is caught in an encompassing
macrostructure, mostly
of a rigid geometric
nature. The symmetry is often obtained
through placing the cameras at angles ( Korea Stock Exchange) or
opposite to each other (Times Square, 1997). Says Gursky himself: ‘My preference for clear structures is the result of my desire - perhaps
illusory - to keep track of things and maintain my grip on the world.’ Such encompassing abstract structure can be caught by the viewer in one
glimpse, at least if he regains the required distance to the picture,
so
that the impression is maintained that the image is taken form a single
vantage point - as opposed to Cubism, where the disparity is
deliberately stressed. Thus, the geometry converging in the eye of
the beholder, that was destroyed through the multiplication of
vantage points, is restored in the compelling magic of an
abstract pattern. But, otherwise than the geometry of perspective, that
penetrates and animates the visible world in a harmonic way, Gursky's
encompassing geometry
is a distal, impersonal stamp on the visible world.
Thereby it becomes the counterpart on the macro level of the
homogenised abundance of details on the micro level. It is not
the prolongation of our gaze in the image, rather a kind of mesmerising
pattern that stares at us from within the image: the eye of the Medusa
that puts a spell on the mobility of the multiplied eyes of
Argus. Thus, the onlooker, who thought to penetrate into the image, is
driven out of it through the gaze of the Medusa.
Neither is there a temporal perspective in Gursky' images: even where
people are very busy, as in the series ''Stock Exchanges', there is a
strong sense of timelessness.
WORLD VIEW?
Eine
Photographie der Kruppwerke oder der AEG
ergibt beinahe nichts über diese Institute."
Bertolt Brecht,
Der
Dreigroschenprozeß, 1931
Compelling,
all-encompassing structures that hold countless homogenised elements in
their grip: that cannot but remind us of the way in which, in the era of
the world-wide re(in)stauration of capitalism, the 'globalised' economy
subordinates innumerable individuals as interchangeable elements -
consumers and producers. Or of the way in which the relentless increase in
scale sweeps away every local difference and homogenises the consumer
goods and thereby their consumers on a global scale.
And indeed. In the
press note for the exhibition in the 'Haus der Kunst' we read:
'Gursky shows the interrelations of modern life and sketches an
analytical image of
capitalism in all its shapes'. And in the text for the above
mentioned auction at Sotheby's: 'his photographs survey the post-Capitalist
landscape, searching for the signifiers which define our daily lives.'
Other authors do not feel at ease with the term 'capitalism' and prefer
to speak of 'globalisation', or, even more neutral - and also more
'German': 'Zeitgeist' (Begg*, Bell¨*). Still others rather play the green card.
Next to 'the more negative aspects of the capitalist system, such as working conditions' Weski*
refers equally to 'the factory farming of animals, the abuse of the environment and the
phenomenon of consumer terrorism' yes, even to 'our intrepid representatives forced to
prevail against a seemingly overwhelming natural world'. And that sets
the tune for more philosophical voice that are talking about the
relation of mankind to the cosmos as such, like Pierre Sterckx* who
believes that Gursky is above all interested in the 'question of the
cosmos and the development of the universe', if not about Burke's
sublime or Kant's 'Erhabene' (Alix Ohlin*,
Caroline Levine*). But no doubt the apogee is the approach of Schlüter*, who does not
hesitate to call Gursky 'the flying eye of the World
Spirit'.
The idea that Gursky would be interested in a view on our contemporary
world is initially supported by some of his statements. Thus, in an
interview with Veit Gorner,
he legitimises his digital construction of reality as an endeavour to
make visible the antiseptic reality behind the 'socio-romantic air'
behind which many enterprises hide. In a well-known quotation, it is
phrased more generally as: 'Reality can only be shown by constructing
it'. That suggests that reality is not visible to the unarmed eye and
that Gursky will unveil it to us. But Gursky becomes increasingly more
reticent:
'I think my images are neutral. I neither idealise the country (North
Korea), nor do I criticise it'' (Schlüter*). Whereas Schlüter proclaims
him to the World Spirit, he himself rather prefers to pose as an "extraterrestrial
being, knowing nothing of the world'.
World Spirit or extra-terrestrial: the question remains whether Gursky is
really interested in revealing us our contemporary reality in all its
contradiction.
To begin with, it is telling that the people that Gursky shows us, if
they are working, are not the people who decide, nor those who are
the victims of their machinations, and even less those who are excluded
from the system altogether. Apart from scarce exceptions (the asparagus
pickers in Beelitz, 2007, and the basket weavers in
'Nha Trang', 2004), we only get to
see the executers of activities, that are only vicariously visible in
the bodies of the personnel and their computers. On closer view,
Gursky's eye is not as panoptic as might appear: what he does not show
speaks louder than what he does show.
We can further ask whether the people on Gursky's image are
really to be
interpreted as the atoms in a 'globalised' world. The recent images
of the mass-meetings in Pyongyang - rather a phenomenon that will soon be wept away
by the 'globalisation' than an embodiment of it - suggest that Gursky is
more interested in the phenomenon of accumulation as such. In 'Untitled I' (1993)
there is an accumulation of the knots of a carpet, in 'Salerno I' (1990)
of cars and containers and in Kamiokande (2007) of neutrino detectors.
Such elements could still point to industrialised production, but that
relation is altogether absent in the accumulation of books in 'Stockholm
Library' (1999) or of rocks in 'Cheops' (2006). That forbids us to read
photos like ' 99 cent II Diptychon' (1999) as images where uniformed
humans are
replaced with uniformed goods in the store house. Such
neutralisation of potential political freight is reflected in a shift in Gursky's language. In his
interview with Veit
Gorner:he declares 'I have never been interested in the individual,
but in the human species and its environment as such'. The historical ('Marxian')
perspective is replaced with a timeless ('Darwinian) view on the 'human
species'. And, as far as this species is concerned, Gursky seems not so much
interested in its internal 'struggle for
life', as rather in its relation to its environment - exemplary in the
image of the Tour in France (2007). Eventually, Gursky bluntly declares 'I
have stopped working thematically'.
And he describes this development as 'a logical progressing that end up
in abstract pictures''.
'Abstract pictures': Gursky certainly refers to images like 'PCF Paris' (2003),
Beelitz (2007), 'Kamiokande' (2007)...... They nearly differ from
those other 'abstract' paintings: those of Op-art, especially
those of Vasarély, which equally exert a hypnotic power. They embody the
same eye of the Medusa that gazes upon us from within an image where we
do not regain the perspectival prolongation of our own gaze. In such 'optic-kinetic'
art, every documentary content is completely banned from the image, to
the extent that they threaten to become mere two-dimensional design. And
that goes also for images of Gursky that are at first sight far less
abstract, but in which Gursky is more interested in the often brutal
abstract composition, than in the material that has to be contained by
it.
There is little doubt, then: only seemingly do
macroscopic and microscopic extension of the eye and the combination of
various shots in one panoptic image amount to
a view on reality that would be more encompassing in the spatial or
historical sense. In fact, Gursky does not penetrate into the kernel of
things, nor does he provide a 'global' view of them.
In the end, we are left with a (rather rudimentary) abstract
macrostructure, wherein meaningless
micro-elements are subordinated. The sharpness and the massive
amount of information that is offered to the thousand eyes of Argus,
contrasts fiercely with the poor content - if not the absolute emptiness
- of the images that are conjured up with all that digital vehemence.
And that sheds a new light on the all-seeing eye of Gursky: it turns out
to be a fetishist** eye
to the thousandth power. The
stubborn obsession with
which Gursky wants to fill his panoramas with a profusion of details,
only betrays how much he is unable to see the invisible that goes hidden
behind all that visual profusion. The accumulation of details is a
substitute for the invisible whole that remains inaccessible to Gursky'
camera. And the homogenisation of details on the micro level, just like
the compelling brutality of a mostly merely symmetrical composition on
the macro level, are only a substitute for the more subtle structure
that would be revealed to an understanding eye. We cannot but be
reminded of the way in which, in erotic imagery, an equally fetishist eye
wants to discern in all sharpness the tiniest details of what goes hidden
behind the labia, with all the more greed since the eye has
neutralised the organ that was supposed to - blindly -penetrate the
cavity (see: 'The eye's seizure of power'').
Also a comparison with Spencer Tunick
imposes itself. With this artist, the transgressive moment of streaking
of flashing is neutralised through the serial multiplication of the nude
and its reduction to a mere
part of the colour palette.
The 'reality' that Gursky wants to show through his 'construction', is
not the 'deeper reality' that goes hidden behind the visible
appearance, rather a reality that is, if possible, still more
superficial that the visible appearance itself: so mercilessly visible
that there no longer anything to see at all. Not even a document: sheer
visibility - 'op art' in a cynical lecture of the term.
Only a contentually 'constructed' reality - a collage like those of
Heartfield, preferably a bit more subtle - would suffice to make the
invisible visible, to construct a real 'global' - total - panorama of
the 'globalised' world as it really is. But that is an undertaking that
demands far more insight, and above all another kind of technical skill
than the mere finding of subjects that lend themselves for the printing
out of a profusion of details over
scores of square meters.
POSITIONING
No contentual motivation, hence. Which raises the question what could
well have been the motor for the making of these images.
The answer is already
partly contained in
the analysis above. Initially,
Gursky is discerning himself from the Bechers.
Next, he wants to discern
himself from photographers like Dan Graham and Jeff Wall who conquered
the museums and galleries in the wake of the New Colorists. Nearer
home, it mattered to discern himself not only from Thomas Ruff and Thomas
Struth (the trio
was often called Struffsky, see Jerry Salz*), but
also from Demand (see below). And so on. The mechanism is well known: in
matters of marketing it is known as
'positioning'. Gursky
himself refers to the rather profane motive in his
interview with Veit Gorner:
'Being confused with other photographers has ceased to be an issue for
me since l stopped working thematically.' Whereby he all to easily
overlooks the fact that also his stopping with working thematically is
no more than a new form of positioning (see equally below).
How little Gursky is driven by contentual concerns is evident from the
fact that all his photos, from 'Klausenpass' (1984) onwards, are
conceived according to the same pattern: an overall geometrical-abstract
pattern on the macro level,
and a huge amount of similar details on the
micro level. It is not difficult to see how this formula came about. It
is dictated by the development of the photographical
technique: next to the increasing resolution of the
digital image and all
the methods to ban unsharpness from or layers and corners of the image,
also and in the first place the development of digital printing
technique.
Gursky seems rather
to be mesmerised through the proliferation of pixels
than through the massification of globalisation. Through nestling
himself in that technologically advanced niche, Gursky succeeded in
establishing a clearly recognisable identity that cannot easily be
imitated - a brand. A pity for him that he will have to comply to it for
the rest of his life -
just imagine what would become of him
would he suddenly proceed to make
portraits in the size of a postcard...
.
Nothing reveals better how we are dealing here with an image production
that is not propelled by an inner, contentual, but rather by the desire
to conquer a clearly recognisable position on the art
market, on instigation of a purely external, formal factor: the
possibilities created by the most recent technological development. The
only personal merit of Gursky is that he has a good nose for subjects
that lend themselves for the realisation of this technological
potential. Or: how technology determines content, not
otherwise than the broom of Goethe's apprentice sorcerer...
MONOPOLISATION
The same goes for the size of Gursky' images. Although
Peter Galassi* confirms that ''they earn their
size by completing an aesthetic that inhabits every aspect of the work',
we already pointed to the fact that the effect can also be achieved with
a more modest size. The increase in scale must serve another purpose. We
cannot but be reminded of the way in which American artists
knew to conquer their position on the
international art scene: a drawing of Klee
is simply eclipsed by the
square meters
of James Rosenquist and consorts.
Next to positioning, there is also something like the conquest of a
monopoly trough an increase in scale - globalisation so to speak.
Big size not only warrants the monopoly of perception, but also - on a
more fundamental level - the monopoly of production. Not every artist
can command the necessary equipment - let alone the required logistics,
helicopters included - to produce photos that are reproducible on such a
scale, let alone the equipment to print them out effectively. Gradually,
the attention is shifting from the quality of the photo to the quality
of the print. No doubt, it is true that
'the proof of the photo is in the printing'. But the same goes for the
old adage: 'If
you can’t make ‘em good, make ‘em big'.
There is some irony in the fact that,
of all things photography - the first medium that is reproducible ad libitum,
and that
should therefore be cheap -
is nowadays skyrocketing at the art market. And that is all the more
remarkable, since precisely the digital image can be reproduced on
countless screens all over the world - the communist abundance inherent
in the industrial mode of production as
opposed to generalised capitalistic scarcity. The case of Gursky shows
how the capitalistic market can defend itself successfully against
such
completed socialism. In matters of photography: through increasing the
size of the print. The bigger the print, the heavier the required
(productive as well as reproductive) technology, the more exclusive -
scarce - the product in question. The smaller also the number of
competitors that can command such technology. Also here, Gursky is rather
an embodiment of the era of the re(in)stauration of capitalism, that an
extraterrestrial contemplator of it.
Large format also suggests, finally, that we are dealing with something
very important:
why else cover an entire wall with one single picture?
That is no doubt the reason why many authors
are searching a deeper meaning
behind Gursky's decorative wall-decoration that is no more than a
demonstration of technical skill. That is also why so many authors are
talking about 'monumentality' and of 'epic scale' - overlooking the
fact that there is a difference between literal size and intrinsic
format: not all large images
are monumental, and not all monumental works
are large.
How little size is understood intrinsically by Gursky, appears from the
fact that he had his earlier photo adapted to the new standards for his
show in the 'Haus der
Kunst'.
It is only waiting for the erection of a giant hall in the new Louvre in Abu Dhabi
to house a collection of Gurskys, with prints
updated to the newest
standards of size - the counterpart of the Rubens Hall in the
Louvre so to speak. Emirates: for, the giant sums paid for these giant
prints can only be paid by renown museums and big enterprises, who also
have the required space to exhibit them. Gursky is not for the
book-shelf or the wall of the modest living room, even not for the already
more prestigious loft, rather for the representative enterprise that,
next to its prestigious building also want to show off with some
prestigious art.
Up to its size, this photography is determined by the endeavour to
gain a technological monopoly position. On all these levels, Gursky
is not more than an exponent of the very system that he is
supposed to depict.
If Gursky's art is an image of our era at all, than not so much through
what it presents, than through what it is.
ASSIMILATION
A last factor
that determines the choice for large formats
is not typical for Gursky
alone. To conquer its place in the museum, especially after 1945,
artistic photography had to surmount two handicaps: not only was it
supposed to be black-and-white according to the then standards, it could
only be printed on rather modest formats.
It thereby was eclipsed by the paintings in the museum, especially by
the large formats that seem to have become obligatory
ever since the advent
New
Expressionism and Pop Art. Through the development of digital
photography, both obstacles
could be removed
successfully: ever since
the 'New Colorists', colour became accepted in artistic photography, and
photos could be printed on ever larger formats digitally.
Already
the Bechers could gain a place in the galleries by combining their still
modest photo into
larger serial wholes. But it is Jeff Wall who resolutely
opted for large formats that could compete with paintings in museums and
galleries.
A second way to inscribe oneself in the development of modern art,
finally, is typical for Gursky indeed: the increasingly abstract
character of his work. Photography uses to be dismissed as
inartistic
because of its 'documentary' character (see 'Scruton').
In the seventies, Bernd en Hilla Becher - documentary photographers par
excellence - could gain their place in the art world in that the serial
character of their photography allowed a minimalist or conceptual
reading. Gursky further
severed the tie with the documentary aspect
through proceeding to the 'construction' of reality.
The repetitiveness in the details lends itself for a minimalist lecture,
like that of Galasi in his introduction to the show in the Museum
of Modern Art*.
Galassi also discovers similarities with the 'conceptual'
painting of
Richter. And that is only the
counterpart to Gursky's increasing endeavours to join the ruling
artistic discourse. In
the wake of Thomas Struth(1994) he photographs a giant
Jackson Pollock in 1997. And, in his 'Mann ohne
Eigenschaften' ( ), we get to see the page of a book on
which sentences from Musil's book are put together.
One thing and another has is bearings on the market:.
"99 cent II, Diptychon" was
auctioned at
Sotheby's
not in the section 'photography', but
in the section 'art'.
In the catalogue to this auction, Gursky is now
inscribed in the American tradition: 'Jackson Pollock's all-over technique, Sol Lewitt's
repetitive grids, Donald Judd's stacks of
items as well as Andy Warhol's
thematic interest in consumer goods'. And that sheds a new light on Gursky's 'logical
development' towards abstraction. Authors like Schlüter can easily
describe the mass performance in Pyongyang as a 'minimalist arrangement
of lines'.
'Gursky* has moved away so far from the documentary, that we could also
call him a pixel-painter (Schlüter).
Remarkable though, how a photographer has to conquer the museum through
emulating
painting at the apogee of its anti-photographic fervour....
Once the presence of photographers in the temple of art taken
for
granted, the comparison with painters from the period before painting
began to distance itself from photography, is no longer shunned. Gursky
is compared with Courbet (Lucie Davis*) Turner, Caspar
David Friedrich
(Bell*), Poussin, Caravaggio
(Monika Sprüth)
and even Pieter Brueghel (Pierre Sterckx).
Also the methods of Gursky - his 'condensation of reality' through
recombination of separate shots - is put on a par with the proceeding of
the painter who composes his image from countless separate observations.
The assimilation with painting through size has a side effect that
should not be underestimated: it threatens to curb the
inherent development of
the digital image. The singularity of the digital image is, after all, that it appears from the beginning as a lighting image on a screen, and
has not first to be developed as a negative and printed on paper.
That is what they have in common with diapositives, which are
enlarged through projection an a screen. Such projection is no longer
neceary with the digital image: its size depends on the size of the
screen. To be sure, also digital photos (just
like many diapositive) are printed on paper, after the example
of negatives - that is precisely why there has been such a spectacular
development of digital printing. But an increasing number of photographs
no longer undergoes the transformation - or regression - to an image on a
reflecting surface: they continue to lead a purely virtual existence on
the screen. It is only waiting for a further development of screen
technology: just
think op museums with digital walls where images of whatever size would
appear in all their lighting glory - a kind of digital cathedral - or of
the more modest counterparts in the living room. But there is every
reason to fear that the money that is earned with the making of giant
prints and their presentation will curb such
developments. For, that would entail that the digital image would be
reduced to a mere file on a disc - and
such a file can freely circulate in the mentioned
world of abundance - so that there is nothing to be
earned any longer (except by providing the largest screens, like in the
former cinema's).
PAINTING AND PHOTOGRAPHY
All the endeavours to inscribe Gursky' photography in the history of
painting - read: a special variant of image production -
have as a consequence that the more obvious antecedents in the history of
photography are lost from sight. Certainly, there is some reference to
the 'platonic' scheme of the Bechers and Sander's project to document the era of
the Weimar Republik.
Let us also mention the echoes of Steinert, Gursky's first teacher.
But above all Riefenstahl and her 'Tirumph
des Willens'. It is remarkable that the photos of the mass spectacle in
Pyongyang, of all things in Hitler's and Speer's 'Haus der (Deutschen)
Kunst', did not ring any bells. Just like with Gursky, the elements are
already homogenised and caught in geometric patterns. For his photos in
Pyongyang, Gursky needed only two shots: digital manipulation in that
respect has become obsolete through the activity of the mass
manipulators. And, not otherwise than Gursky today, also Leni
Riefenstahl claimed to merely have a neutral stand to what she
photographed.
But, above all, they obfuscate the fact that this photography, apart from size
and colour, has very little to do with the real tradition of painting.
Already more with the - grossly underestimated - 'documentary'
sector of it. In her report of the opening of Gursky's show in the de White Cube
in Londen,
Lillian Davies
describes how a woman scrutinised 'each switchback of Tour de France I, 2007 'with an
illuminated magnifying glass'. That cannot but remind us of the way in
which the Flemish primitives or the Dutch masters of the still life are
often approached. That clearly demonstrates how Gursky's work remains
embedded in traditional photography (and dito painting): despite all its 'construction', it
does not transcend the level of the documentary, except
through
becoming 'super document'. And that reminds us of that other photographer
that wants to pose as a painter: Joel-Peter Witkin.
Just like the art of the latter, Gursky's photography stands or falls
with its documentary, 'causal' aspect. Just suppose that Gursky' elements were
really abstract - coloured squares or circles: his prints would have
lost the very charms that seems to mesmerise his countless admirers. Therein, Gursky
and Witkin,
despite their conscious intentions, and despite the tenacity of the
acolytes of the art market, are deeply anchored in the tradition of
photography as uncompleted mimesis.
The truth is that photography - just like painting - has to earn its
status as art neither through adopting size and colour (and the commodity
character) of painting, nor through emulating the texture and
composition of painting like the pictorialists old style, but through
unfolding itself into completed
mimesis: through the creation of images that do not borrow their
power from the appearance of the real world, but from a self-created and self-contained world: the world of art. The irony of the
case of Gursky lies in the fact that precisely the digital technique could enable such an emancipation of photography.
Whereas photography could for a long time not compete with some crucial aspects
of the hand made image, it will soon take the lead and be at the
technical vanguard of image production.
FORMULA 1
No doubt, Gursky's photography testifies to great technical mastery.
Perhaps we could even call him the Michael Schumacher of
contemporary photography. But art is still something more than sport: next to
technical skill, there is also something like contentual skill. And, as
far as content is concerned, we cannot possibly welcome Gursky as the
newest incarnation of the World Spirit...
© Stefan Beyst,
March 2007
* See: 'Some reference' below.
** Fetishist in the psychoanalytic sense of substituting peripheral parts
of the body for the gentialia
Meanwhile there are scores of Gursky clones. Special attention for
Chris Jordan
*SOME REFERENCES:
ALBERRO,Alex:
'Blind
Ambition' Artforum (January 2001)
BEGG, Zanny: 'Photography
and the Multitude: Recasting Subjectivity
in a Globalised World', Borderlands e- journal, volume 4 number 1,
2005
BELL, Judith: 'Andreas
Gursky', Rangefinder Magazine
CHEVAL, Florence: 'Gursky', Axelibre, Février 2002
http://www.axelibre.org/arts_plastiques/andreas_gursky.php
DAVIES, Lucy: 'It's enough to make your eyeballs sweat' The telegraph
24/03/2007
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/arts/main.jhtml?xml=/arts/2007/03/24/bagursky124.xml
GALASSI, Peter: "Andreas Gursky" Museum of Modern Art, March 2001
GORNER, Veit: "
Andreas Gursky, in an interview with Veit Gorner" Translated
excerpt
LEVINE, Caroline:
Gursky's Sublime. A review of Peter Galassi, Andreas
Gursky. New York: Museum of Modern Art, 2001
MARSHALL, Peter: "Andreas Gursky: Does Size Matter?"
OHLIN,
Alix:
Andreas Gursky and the contemporary sublime,
Art Journal, Winter, 2002
PITMAN, Joanna: 'A window into
the human hive': Timesonline March 20, 2007
SALZ, Jerry: 'Struthsky'
Artnet 12/28/1999
SCHLÜTER, Ralph: 'Reporter
des Weltgeistes' ART, Das Kunstmagazin, 03/2007.
SIEGEL, Katy:
The Big
Picture - Interpretation of Andreas Gursky's photographs
ArtForum, Jan, 2001.
WESKI,
Thomas (Ed.): "Andreas Gursky". Amberg, Karlsruhe. Berlin, München 1992.
WESKI, Thomas (Ed..):"Andreas Gursky, Ausstellung Andreas Gursky im Haus
der Kunst, München, 17. Februar bis 13. Mai 2007", Snoeck
Verlagsgesellschaft, 2007.(The Privileged View
http://www.saatchi-gallery.co.uk/blogon/2007/02/andreas_gursky_at.php)
ZDENEK, Felix (Ed..): "Andreas Gursky. Fotografien 1984-1993". Ausstellungskatalog Deichtorhallen Hamburg, München 1994.
SOME QUOTATIONS:
Saul Austerlitz: 'Gursky’s bright, crisp images, every inch of his
oversized photos in sharp focus, filled with individual detail and
riotous color, are lovely enough to serve as brochure
photos for the world’s Chamber of Commerces.'
Jörg
Colberg: 'When thinking of a great photo, a whole lot of them come
up in my mind, with the most immediate ones 99 Cents by Andreas Gursky
(...). "99 Cents might be me all-time favourite photograph. For me, it
is the essence of what contemporary colour photography is all about.
It's an explosion of colour and detail, which is immensely disorienting,
and it is strict and formal, despite its depiction of utter (controlled)
chaos. You can look at the photo for hours and still discover something
new. And it manages to show us something utterly mundane and transform
it into high art.'
Alex Alberro:
'Gursky,
in his ultimately nihilistic way, is clearly more interested in another
game--a pictorialist celebration of style, craftsmanship, and the
perfect photographic image'.
Mark Stevens:
'Gursky does not send out signals that he sides with traditional "humanistic"
values. Like Warhol, he prefers to play a more ambiguous double game, at
once the celebrant and the quizzical observer of a strange universe'
Your reaction
(English, German, French or Spanish):
beyst.stefan@gmail.com
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See also
stefan beyst on contemporary artists
Works of Gursky were
recently on view at
Monika Sprüth Magers and White Cube inLonden
Haus der Kunst in München
Februari 2007 to May 2007
Matthew Marks New York, May 4 - June 30,
2007
Istanbul Modern from May 30 to augustus 26 2007
Organized by the Haus der Kunst in Munich, curated by Thomas
Wesky
with the contribution of Merrill Lynch, Turkish German Businessmen
Cultural Foundation, and Goethe Institut Istanbul.
The show will soon travel to
Sharjah Art Museum in the United Arab Emirates.
Works of Gursky are
currently on view at
Kunstmuseum Basel
20.10. - 24.02. 2008
Andreas Gursky is hoping to photograph the
entire opening ceremony
of the Beijing Olympic Games 2008
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referrers:
Intute
Phototoliens
Digital protalk
Archaltfotokonzerv Mayhem
MyPrivateLight
Notetoself
Yasam
Judith den Hollander
Claudia den Boer
Ico
Canvas
Fotografica
Pytr75
Ayubu
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