The disconcerted eye takes in the profusion of colours and forms,
the confusing flood of images and motifs, objects, drawings, photographs
and texts flowing over the floor, up the walls, of the space.
Disturbed by the glaring discrepancies in scale and perspective,
by the intricate miniatures alongside massively blown-up details,
by the slips of paper next to huge pictures, we take a closer
look, and to our surprise detect a similarity between the single
elements and the visual environment as a whole. The majority of
the pictures, drawings and photographs show still-life compositions
of found objects, sketches, paintings and photographs. Arranged
in front of us are diverse views of arrangements featuring seemingly
recurrent colours, shapes and motifs. Yet closer examination of
the subjects reveals that nothing in the ensemble is constant
or identical, that every repetition is different, shown from a
different perspective or combined with new motifs and texts. The
reading of each visual particle varies according to its spatial
and thematic context; even the slightest change of viewing angle
alters the aspect, the relative meaning.
Our initial astonishment is enduring, not diminished by any part
of the ensemble. On the contrary: the more closely we follow the
myriad trails and visual offerings, the more uncertainties and
yawning chasms we encounter. Our unease grows as we become aware
of the immeasurable quantities of pictures consumed in the visual
flood, realize nothing we come across is whole or complete. If
not fragmented or sectioned, then the visual and textual information
lies concealed, to a greater or lesser extent, behind other pictorial
elements, buried inside the ensemble's temporal gaps and spatial
ruptures. Concurrent with the vast stream of graphical signals
is an unprecedented flow of signs shrinking from, passing out
of, view.
The ensemble proves to be a temporal/spatial process of visual
formation, synchronously layered, extended into space. We can
locate a kind of centre, a corner in which the components are
concentrated, intensified, but no defined source from which a
linear trace can be followed. There are borders, but these fractured,
indeterminate, precarious boundaries make the vast object look
like a fragment of fragments whose fragmentation might resume
at any time. The ensemble demands that we never approach it from
the same standpoint twice, that we constantly change our viewing
angles and lines of sight. Trying to get closer, we concentrate
on details, but new shades of meaning distract us before we can
begin to decipher them. We start to draw comparisons, trying to
assimilate our interpretations and test possible associations.
Attempting to adopt a distanced view, we realize any overview
gained can be temporary only. By this time, however, the ensemble
has seduced us, made us involuntarily take that path of viewing
and understanding on which it is based, and which is delineated
in the work itself. It is a path by which we carry forward Anna
Oppermann's movements through space and time, her sea-sawing between
closeness and distance, between focusing and combination, between
repetition and dislocation, between insight and overview.
From the late 1960s until her premature death, Anna Oppermann
created over 60 ensembles in processes of work spanning years at a time, more
than 30 of them consist of several hundred parts. Every component
records a facet or station in the routes of perception, research
and interpretation the artist followed while investigating questions
like »
Being a woman«, »
Being an artist«, »
Being different«, »
Love, Eroticism, Sex«, the »
Economic Aspect« or the »
Paradoxical Intentions« (of making art). It seems (almost) anything
was permissible on these paths. Startling the volume of materials,
differences in scale and shifting perspectives may be, but on
closer inspection the inventory of materials and styles is even
more bewildering. A single ensemble includes not only virtually
the full range of media and genres -- from found object, drawing,
painting, photograph, writing to sculpture and architecture --
but also conveys a sweeping diversity of styles. Naturalistic
drawings are presented alongside dashed-off thematic sketches,
schematic studies and diagrams. Photographic portraits and found
photos of everyday scenes add to the subjects of the ensemble,
while a wealth of black-and-white or colour photographs apparently
serve the primary purpose of documenting the work's development,
with polaroids conveying fleeting impressions of phases in the
work and installation process. There are striking differences
in the type and content of written material: quotations from works
of fiction, treatises on philosophy, psychology, sociology or
natural sciences are recorded in handwriting, capital letters
and printed types of varying sizes. Scattered throughout the arrangement
are ripped-out newspaper excerpts and handwritten notes on drawings
and canvases.
»I was unwilling to decide«, said Anna Oppermann in 1986, »what
might be termed more important or more successful in regard to
the message: the real object, the sketch, the intellectual analysis,
or the completed picture. Each part had something the other lacked.«
Stylistic pluralism is the declared hallmark, and not just a visible
characteristic, of ensemble-making. Yet the astonishing diversity
is not merely »arbitrary«; it is message-oriented: »Each part
had something the other lacked«. The artist thus basically acknowledged
the inadequacy, the ambivalence and context-dependence, of every
message, the ambiguity of all knowledge and systems of classification
and order. She investigated the changeability of views, interpretations
and relations between things, words and images, showed how alterations
of view can displace the substance of a message, revealed glaring
differences in potential meaning and reading by varying the modes
of representation.
Yet this is insufficient as explanation of the artistic goal underlying
the ensembles. Anna Oppermann was concerned less with representing
the inexhaustible repository of possible messages and the fundamental
ambiguity of these statements than with visualizing the possibility
and necessity of making statements and choices in view of the
wealth of possibilities, in the light of complexity and transitoriness.
The passing on of temporary views and modes of writing, and how
way she does it, is what counts. Every ensemble is at once a site
of handing down and (potential) writing on. The ensembles, far
from being mere reproductions of our information-swamped realities
or archives of the world's material and intellectual pluralism,
guide us into selected interspaces of reality, into spaces of
unfinished perception, discussion and evaluation.
At the centre of Anna Oppermann's confrontation is »everyday reality«,
the object of her observing, thinking, evaluating approach is
always a »slice of reality« -- as she herself noted in numerous
texts on her »method«. Her recurrent references to the »methodical«
rules applying to the ensemble processes were above all an attempt
to repudiate frequently voiced accusations of arbitrariness and
subjectivity. In such notes she re-traced her procedural movements,
which ranged from the »relatively simple« to the »relatively complicated«,
and emphasized that the volume and diversity of forms of articulation
are not merely valid, but structured and reflected, that on-going
viewing and description are allied with focusing, combination
and selecting. If we briefly re-trace the path she described,
then her real concern becomes all the more obvious: to visualize
potentially changing perception and thought around the fractures
and seams of the visible and conceivable.
Even if produced over a number of years, every ensemble does indeed
have a surprisingly simple beginning in time and space. Specific
»starting objects« motivate all of Anna Oppermann's visual and
linguistic expeditions, namely a small number of nondescript objects
of everyday use or decoration, leaves of flowers or plants, sometimes
supplemented by a snapshot, or the occasional colloquial phrase
or figure of speech. The point of departure for the ensemble »Paradoxical Intentions -- Lying the blue down from the sky«, for
instance, is German phrases and proverbs relating to the colour
blue, a blue glass shrine which is a piece of nonfunctional, but
beautiful, kitsch, as well as the homely plants tagetes and indigo,
and an unflattering photo of the artist (see Fig. and text on
page
17/
18).
The artist would arrange these found objects into small tableaux
on a table or platform, displaying them to herself for the purpose
of closer study in what she termed the »meditation phase«. In
predominantly naturalistic detail studies and sectional drawings,
she intensively recorded the shapes and colours of this first
arrangement of the objects. The basic objects thus reveal their
immeasurability at the very beginning of the ensemble process.
Like all seemingly familiar things, when we try to get infinitely
close to them they begin to reveal unsuspected, puzzling meanings,
unfathomable depths and oddities. A familiar word, repeated over
and over again, disintegrates into a random string of letters
the tongue stutters over. The shape of an implement previously
taken for granted suddenly begins to irritate, unnerves us with
its brute materiality. The objects reproduced in a picture often
viewed with no great interest begin to lose their connection and
anchorage, and the invisible, uncertain concealed behind them
begins to take hold.
The close-up »meditation« in front of the starting object was
preparation for the next step in the process, one which permitted
every form of articulation, »as far as possible without allowance
for conventional standards of art and behaviour«, as the artist
remarked. She called this step »catharsis«; little evidence of
it remains to be seen in the ensembles, since she frequently concealed
or eradicated the results. Anna Oppermann was not striving towards
»catharsis« in the classical sense, but a productive »purging«
of unthinkingly adopted prejudices, clichés, stereotypes and banalities.
Spontaneous reactions bring forth our preconceptions and biases
-- all the opinions, blind spots and mental patterns everybody,
consciously or otherwise, carries inside.
The purpose served by the two steps the artist grouped under the
heading »Primary Process« was that of concentration and opening
up. Anna Oppermann met her found objects with an open mind, not
anticipating, but always aware of her own biases. Of all things,
it is exhibiton and microscope-like contemplation that lay bare
the antecedent signatures of the objects, images and notions,
private /personal and general relations and value judgements.
No less striking, however, is how clearly the linguistic and visual
inaccessibility of what is laid bare emerges. Every designation,
every message hovers on the brink of a precipice, every deciphering
opens up a new puzzle.
Anna Oppermann followed up the close-up viewing process with the
adoption of distance in what she termed a »secondary process«.
First she subjected the collected views to »reflection«, to »feedback
from a distance« through photographing and sketching, produced
summaries and surveys of her found objects and views. She noted
down associations, sought and collected referential material in
cultural archives. In the subsequent step, »Analysis and Production
of an Overall Reference«, she began to arrange, to try out apt
and clashing combinations. In a note which is part of a »methodical
diagram« drawn up in 1984, she described the goal of this step
as to »determine, fix, new standards«.
The note is interesting in two respects. It underscores Anna Oppermann's
desire to say something »new«. At the same time, it addresses
the decision-making process, refers to the necessity of looking
through, selecting and combining material in order to pin down,
and convey, appropriate messages. The ensembles closely combine
either aspect. The »new standards« -- the constellations fixed
on the canvases -- are a jointed selection of what was collected
in the foregoing process: the sensations of the inconspicuous,
the unthinkingly reproduced preconceptions, the discoveries of
repressed and concealed substance, her distanced valuations, the
utterances by others, the quotations gleaned from libraries, art
history and mass culture. Even then, they remain interim decisions,
temporary results that have to be subjected to renewed study.
The work process starts from the beginning again.
What Anna Oppermann finds (invents) in this way is unfamiliar,
but never radically new. The effect of her »method« is like a
magic wand that unfreezes the familiar, the handed down. She destabilizes
the conventions, standards and intellectual traditions of the
visible, breaks them down into layers of meaning that are as disturbing
as they are familiar, then deploys them, twists them, shifts them
into new contexts, in order to make visible and discussible a
changing process of thought pivoted on the selected »slice of
reality«.
Once initiated, individual ensemble processes could be distributed
over several years, decades even in some cases. »Paradoxical Intentions« began in 1988 with the still life described
above, and grew in several stages until shortly before her death
in 1992. The ensemble was small enough still in 1990 to fit into
one corner of a room for its first public presentation in the
Kunstverein, Heidelberg (Fig. on page
15). After the show, Anna Oppermann returned to work on the ensemble
in her Celle studio (Fig. on page 20f.). When it came to the ensemble's
second public showing in the Städtische Galerie im Sophienhof,
Kiel, 1991, its inventory had been expanded by countless drawings,
watercolours, objects and canvases. The artist now installed it
as a vast »room within a room« which visitors could enter and
walk about (Fig. on page 27f.). Early in 1992, Anna Oppermann
prepared her ensemble for shipment to its next public venue, the
Museum of Contemporary Art, Sydney. Models and sketches show her
initial installation plans. The exhibition had to be postponed,
however, and came about only the year after her death (Fig. on
page 32f.). It was the fourth posthumous assembly of an Oppermann
ensemble, and represented a particularly difficult »translation
task« for the team involved. While the room in Kiel, the Ensemble's
last public site, had been spacious and high-ceilinged, the relatively
small, low space in Sydney meant an identical installation was
ruled out from the outset, and the team had to exercise all its
powers of interpretation in order to keep visible the central
goals and demands of the ensemble. The reinstallation in Celle
Palace is more similar to the earlier version in Kiel, although
spatial differences again required several changes (Fig. on page
6).
It is very much a living archive left behind by Anna Oppermann
in crates and warehouses. After all, anyone wishing to show her
ensemble art today has to »preserve« precisely its procedural,
temporary character, its capacity for continuation. Even after
the artist's death, the works still possess no conclusive, definitive
form, and stubbornly resist any attempt at true-to-detail reconstruction.
Thus, the principles and claims of her mode of working are transferred
upon the »interpreters« entrusted with each re-assembly. They
also demand, where necessary, new solutions, realignments of the
passed-on ensemble inventory in line with new spatial and situative
conditions.
»I detest conclusive formulations that pose as absolute«, insisted
the artist. And true to this avowal, she left all her spatial
and visual arrangements in a temporary state. Anna Oppermann's
art consists precisely in addressing or articulating something
that is multiple and ambivalent, without saying it out loud, or
completing the sentence. She creates reasons, fields of motivation
that are open to supplements and alterations. In the same way,
her collected phrases insist on being read, interpreted and added
to.
It is a fitting circumstance -- coincidence? -- that one of the
very last ensembles she began work on urgently testifies to her
distaste for bold claims to knowledge and perfection. »Paradoxical Intentions« is connected with many of her works, touches
aspects of subject areas she began to elaborate many years before.
Mirrors and reflections, refracted and altered reality were a
»crucial experience« addressed in her first installation »
Mirror Ensemble« (from 1965 onward). The questions about lies
and truth radiate directly from the work »
Pudding or soap -- ensemble concerning honesty or the different
aspects of sheep«, but also from a whole series of ensembles about
art, being an artist, the practical and economic aspects of art-making.
The same questions are carried forward with a decisive shift of
emphasis in the fragmented, kaleidoskope-like »
Paradoxical Intentions«: now everything is about appearances,
about illusion in particular, about the magical capacity to transform
the ugly into the resplendent, the drab into the colourful, about
reflection, delusion and pretence of all kinds, about lies and
honesty in art and life. With verve and irony, Anna Oppermann
seizes upon references to the romantic aspects of her mode of
working, places under fire her own aesthetic: the inherently paradoxical
intention of meeting the complexity of life and art, a truth which
cannot be expressed, with a generative, unfinishable art form
which has no intention of either comprehending in stages or getting
to the root of its subject matter. She, too, had to lie for this
»truth«, was even prepared to touch up, make mysterious and enchant.
But only to a certain degree, for »schmaltz«, as she said, »calls
out for some dry bread« (cf. text on page 18). And she did not
leave us short of »dry bread« in the form of the unseemly, the
questionable, the unfathomable and offensive.
[Übersetzung: Tom Morrison]
[Seitenanfang]