BY Ines Gebetsroither in Reviews | 11 APR 14
Featured in
Issue 14

Franz Graf

21er Haus

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BY Ines Gebetsroither in Reviews | 11 APR 14

Franz Graf, SIEheWASDICHSIEHET, 2009, Graphite and ink on canvas, 1.1 × 1.5 m

‘Life is death’ reads the closing line of Herbert Brandl’s black and white text drawing Ohne Titel (Untitled, 1996) that hung on a panel in the back area of Franz Graf’s exhibition See What Sees You. The contradiction touched on here ran through the whole ‘one-man show’, not least because only a fraction of the 300 or so works on show were Graf’s own. The rest were selected by the artist according to thematic, formal and personal criteria, assembled into a transitory network of references mounted on formwork panels and scaffolding. It was about dialectical oppositions: life and death; Eros and Thanatos; black and white; text and image; front and back; art and (pop) music; knowns and unknowns; high and low and, not least, portrait and self-portrait.

Entering the main hall of the 21er Haus, one was met by several imposing sculptures including the 100-year-old bronze Große Eselreiter (Large Donkey Rider, 1914) by sculptor August Gaul and Markus Schinwald’s Betty (2008) trundling back and forth on her chair, from the collection of the Belvedere, to which the 21er Haus belongs. Or the phallic, black Moontower (2007) made of car tyres and varnished spheres by Jannis Varelas. Initially, Graf’s own works were only to be found high up on the scaffolding. SIEheWASDICHSIEHET (2009), from which the exhi­bition took its name, was visible at first only from the back. The front shows one of Graf’s signature cryptograms: the sequence of letters ‘SIEHTWDICN’ meticulously applied to the white-primed canvas in black ink over a fine grid of graphite.

On this wild but highly organized stage, these antagonisms appeared more reconciled than reinforced. Primarily, the show brought together Graf’s entourage: friends, pupils, keepsakes and kindred spirits. The exhibits included record covers, editions and found objects (an ashtray from the Standard Hotel in Los Angeles, for example) as well as many works by fellow artists that have influenced or been influenced by Graf himself. Representing the postwar Austrian avant-garde, there was a geometrical abstract painting by Hildegard Joos, a Viennese constructivist who joined the Salon des Réalités Nouvelles in Paris after WWII; Marc Adrian’s Schriftfilm (Text Film, 1959–60) that creates collisions between a series of concepts and generates sometimes absurd sentence fragments; works by Graf’s teacher Oswald Oberhuber (including Totenkopf, Skull, 2006) and documentation of actions by Otto Mühl and Hermann Nitsch. There were also monochrome examples of Fantastic Realism and early 1980s Neo-Geo, including works by Brigitte Kowanz and Gerwald Rockenschaub.

Graf devoted a particularly large amount of space to a younger generation that reflects his constant play with dialectical opposites – from very early works by Elke Krystufek that came close to epitomizing the exhibition theme of seeing and being seen, through to Graf’s students Zenita Komad, Sara Glaxia and Anna Ceeh. Countless names could be added to this list, giving a comprehensive sociogram of the Vienna scene. Moreover, the selection of works was regularly changed, with a series of openings on the ‘Wrong Floor’ – an exhibition within the exhibition featur­ing more young artists from Graf’s entourage – as well as music performances.

Was this a zeitgeisty show? Yes, insofar as it successfully reflected the spirit of a current ‘Vienna scene’ (regardless of whether this scene will be regarded as important in retrospect). It gave a candid insight into the personal world of an artist who clearly does not see his work as a singular practice dis­connected from what takes place around it. In this exhibition, rather than limiting his role to that of artist, Graf broadened the focus, fluidly becoming his own curator while producing a context for his oeuvre.
Translated by Nicholas Grindell

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