Eröffnung / Opening: 4. 9. 2014, 7pm
Ausstellungsdauer / Duration: 5. 9. – 27. 9. 2014
In ihrer zweiten Ausstellung in der Galerie Meyer Kainer zeigt Lucie Stahl neue Arbeiten sowie recycelte Objekte, die sie bereits in anderer Form – vorrangig als Scanvorlagen – verwendet hat. Der Pressemitteilung angefügt sind eine Reihe von Texten, die älteren Posterarbeiten entnommen sind, und die hier eine, thematisch assoziative, ergänzende Funktion einnehmen. Wie bei vorherigen Arbeiten gießt sie die mit dem Scanner hergestellten und auf Aluminiumrahmen aufgezogenen Abbildungen in Polyurethan ein. Jedoch gibt sie diesmal dem Material und dessen unvorhersehbaren Eigenschaften mehr Raum. Transparente, fragmentierte Körper tauchen aus der gegossenen, blasig erscheinenden Polyurethan-Oberfläche hervor, sinken in sie ein, verschmelzen mit ihr.
Eine unfest erscheinende Fläche, aus der heraus Figuren Körperfragmente den Betrachter/innen Chipsdosen reichen, als würden sie mit ihnen kommunizieren – poltergeisthaft, aus Screens entsteigend, untot, unlebendig, beobachtend, aber auch den Weg in eine andere Richtung weisend – in eine andere Realität vielleicht. Licht und Schatten, verschiedene Lichtquellen, elektrisches, projiziertes Licht, Kerzenschein. Sichtbarkeit und Unsichtbarkeit – alt und neu – ein geisterhaftes Scenario recycelter Bilder, Objekte und Texte.
Some texts, 2007 - 2011
Working in my studio I had the great idea of burning up some plastic. There was this young guy at the exams to get into school last year and he was showing a little thing he had made: a plastic bottle shrunk down to an undefinable lump of plastics, with the top still working and recognizable. Since my stuff happens to evolve around plastics lately, I remembered that thing and wanted to recreate it. I had this vision of a field of plastics, all molded into each other some bottle tops, some bottoms sticking out, like a gnarly wasteland. There was also this report I saw on CNN not too long ago. People were building a plastic road in Kerala, India, that means they were heating up al their collected plastic junk, shredded into pieces, mixed it with granite and other things and poured out on what was to become the road. Of course you have to be very careful with the temperature that you are using to heat up that plastic. Using plastic requires good monitoring. The plastic should be shredded to small pieces and mixed with the aggregate (granite pieces) and heated to 160 and 170 degrees Celsius. Somehow these numbers seem already pretty high and unhealthy to me, but then again I don't know anything about degrees. Sitting in my studio I used a lighter to slowly heat up that bottle, standing at an open window, trying not to breath in those fumes evaporating from it. I guess I took a little breath and there was this mean feeling in my chest, didn't feel good. It also didn't seem to work as easily to shrink that bottle as I had figured. Later that day I felt weak and very tired, and I told this story to a friend who looked at me bewildered.
INT. SAFE HOUSE - BEDROOM - 4 AM
Low music. Dark shadows. Half-light washes the walls from passing headlights. Tubbs and Trudy are naked. It's the lovemaking of a man and a woman when they hold precious the moments they have because they know that in these moments they are safe. And that the present is fleeting. And they know their time together is about luck. Because life is short. Departure is imminent. Nothing lives forever. It's in their faces and their eyes...
Thus the script to a scene in Michael Mann's "Miami Vice". What's in a script and what appears in a movie though is sometimes not the same. You can tell if something is delivered line by line from a script or if someone's just making shit up.Faking an orgasm can be a problem, but faking a fake is a new way to give pleasure. Jamie Foxx' improvised scene with a faked orgasm is a masterpiece that wasn't in the script. This is the scene we finally get to see in the movie:
After a long day of work and a remarkable shower scene Tubbs joins Trudy in bed. They are having sex. Strange music underlines the intimacy of the moment. Suddenly, 20 seconds in, Tubbs is breathing heavy, makes a few more abrupt moves until he goes "...aaahh..." and collapses onto her. She looks at him bewildered, when he pushes himself up. "Just joking!" he says. She laughs. It's funny.
"Have you noticed that other people's stuff is shit, and your shit is stuff?"
George Carlin is onstage, talking about stuff for "Comic Relief", 1986. Behind him, cluttering the set, you see piles of moving boxes. "Comic Relief" was the brainchild of comedy writer, producer, actor Bob Zmuda, and hosted by Whoopi Goldberg, Robin Williams and Billy Crystal, a crowd of positive thinkers and altogether likeable people.
Meanwhile he talks. Talks about the stuff in your house, the stuff in your car, the stuff in your storage, the stuff in your purse. All the stuff that's yours.
You have a lot of stuff. Once in a while you throw a lot of stuff out, but you still have a hell of a lot of stuff. While he is talking about stuff, you are thinking about stuff. Your stuff. Where does that stuff come from? You are repeating his words silently. But there is more stuff you want. You want that car. You want that house. You want this and you want that. You want all kinds of things. And you want them now. Fuck all that stuff that you have already. You want other stuff.
I have a very serious fight with this guy. I don't know him very well but he thinks he can handle me. He is smirking at me. "Wipe that smile off your fucking face!" I tell him. I am mad. I am furious. I am so angry that I can turn his smile and his whole face into the rim of a car. Not just any rim. I picture the most aggressive types: 24" Chrome SA90 Structure Alloys; 19 inch Black cap 105 double G's; 20 inch Chrome offset Jesse James Widows, ..., until I go for Veloche Vasto Chrome 20's. The Veloche gazes at me a little while, stupidly, until my stare makes rimhead quiver, and I rip his face into metallic pieces that shatter to the ground.
My dilemma over satisfaction, my desire to be satisfied and my dissatisfaction with other people's satisfaction.
Shell Oil is currently running an ad featuring Nobel Peace Prize Laureate Wangari Maathai explaining that people use 80 trees worth of oxygen in their lifetime. Corporations get the most mileage out of everything, especially statistics.
Before the oil crisis in 1973, which resulted in a dramatic increase in the prices of petroleum based products, there was a phenomenal amount of artists working with plastic. Since plastic is such a toxic material to work with the oil crisis probably saved a few lives. Ad Reinhardt once said something like "Don't make sculptures because the sweat of the work mixes with the material and makes mud."
Reinhardt was a funny man and I've taken this idea to heart since I came across it. I think there must be a tremendous satisfaction in digging into a material, working its properties and discovering its potential.
Gift Type Poison
I cannot often see what I am for, though sometimes can decide to be against.
Presenting things is not at all like giving a gift but it has similarities, mostly related to some of my own behavioral traits. For instance when giving a gift I find it useful to be upset or at least stern with the person to whom I am presenting the gift so as not to appear too pleased with myself.