Anselm
Anselm Kiefer is probably the living contemporary artist most deserving of careful and long-lasting attention, and Wenders both finds a genuine reason to film in 3D (once again, after PINA, 2011) and gives the viewer time to take in and reflect upon the work. But theatres really need to pour more light through the projector to compensate for the loss due to the 3D glasses.
Kiefer’s greatness stems in part from the fact that he retains a connection to modernism while, it seems to me, understanding its ideas and questions as dead and buried – no longer as being in any way fertile, but not exactly completely barren either. Rather, the richness of the artistic and intellectual culture of the last couple of centuries means that, even if it only continues to decay and decompose, it could still potentially “work” as rich fertiliser, even if only for the private souls of the caretakers of the remains, if there are any (souls, caretakers or remnants). For example, if we consider the relationship between Joseph Beuys and Kiefer, both of whom are very concerned with the associations between the characteristics of materials, history and ideas, can we not say that Beuys was overwhelmingly motivated by future-oriented considerations (both about ecological conservation and about social transformation founded on the idea that everyone is an artist, and so on), while this concern is almost absent in any direct way from the pupil’s work, which is governed by an overwhelming sense of bearing witness to the aftermath of indescribable tragedy, or of what is beyond tragedy?
In a way, Kiefer’s artistic vision – however cosmic and industrial its scale may be, however powerfully it mediates between Erde and Himmel (highly reminiscent of the diagram by Klee that represents the artist’s way of looking as lying between the “non-optical and dynamic way of cosmic community” and the “non-optical way of shared terrestrial roots”, also described there as the relationship between “the non-optical way of intimate physical contact” and “non-optical contact through the cosmic bond that descends from above”) – can be understood as nothing but the attempt to construct a tomb worthy of what has been lost: an immense ruin that would be, above all, a not-quite-frozen Trauerspiel for Europe, its culture and its history.
There are many fascinating aspects of Kiefer’s work, not least his preoccupation with Lilith, but, for this viewer, the central importance of the “missed encounter” between Paul Celan and Martin Heidegger is particularly significant. Moreoever, not only was this encounter a subject of exploration in THE ISTER (2004), not only did Kiefer create a work in 1969 called Die Donauquelle, and not only did Kiefer leafing through his Heidegger book (1976) bear a close resemblance to Syberberg leafing through his Hölderlin book, but watching Wenders’s documentary also gave me a feeling that the relationship between Bernard Stiegler’s work and my own film can be construed as being akin to the relationship between Beuys and Kiefer described above. On a much smaller artistic scale, of course.
Kiefer’s greatness stems in part from the fact that he retains a connection to modernism while, it seems to me, understanding its ideas and questions as dead and buried – no longer as being in any way fertile, but not exactly completely barren either. Rather, the richness of the artistic and intellectual culture of the last couple of centuries means that, even if it only continues to decay and decompose, it could still potentially “work” as rich fertiliser, even if only for the private souls of the caretakers of the remains, if there are any (souls, caretakers or remnants). For example, if we consider the relationship between Joseph Beuys and Kiefer, both of whom are very concerned with the associations between the characteristics of materials, history and ideas, can we not say that Beuys was overwhelmingly motivated by future-oriented considerations (both about ecological conservation and about social transformation founded on the idea that everyone is an artist, and so on), while this concern is almost absent in any direct way from the pupil’s work, which is governed by an overwhelming sense of bearing witness to the aftermath of indescribable tragedy, or of what is beyond tragedy?
In a way, Kiefer’s artistic vision – however cosmic and industrial its scale may be, however powerfully it mediates between Erde and Himmel (highly reminiscent of the diagram by Klee that represents the artist’s way of looking as lying between the “non-optical and dynamic way of cosmic community” and the “non-optical way of shared terrestrial roots”, also described there as the relationship between “the non-optical way of intimate physical contact” and “non-optical contact through the cosmic bond that descends from above”) – can be understood as nothing but the attempt to construct a tomb worthy of what has been lost: an immense ruin that would be, above all, a not-quite-frozen Trauerspiel for Europe, its culture and its history.
There are many fascinating aspects of Kiefer’s work, not least his preoccupation with Lilith, but, for this viewer, the central importance of the “missed encounter” between Paul Celan and Martin Heidegger is particularly significant. Moreoever, not only was this encounter a subject of exploration in THE ISTER (2004), not only did Kiefer create a work in 1969 called Die Donauquelle, and not only did Kiefer leafing through his Heidegger book (1976) bear a close resemblance to Syberberg leafing through his Hölderlin book, but watching Wenders’s documentary also gave me a feeling that the relationship between Bernard Stiegler’s work and my own film can be construed as being akin to the relationship between Beuys and Kiefer described above. On a much smaller artistic scale, of course.
Mini Review: Kiefer is probably the living artist most deserving of attention: he retains a connection to modernism while understanding its ideas and questions as dead, not fertile but rich fertiliser. In a way, his work attempts to construct a tomb worthy of what has been lost – for Europe, its culture, its history. Wenders both finds a real reason to film in 3D and gives the viewer time to take in and reflect upon the work. But theatres really need to pour more light through the projector during 3D films.
