PETER ZAWREL
Chief Curator of the Museum of Lower Austria
"Helnwein"
26th May 1991
The
auratic face of a child, six metres high, four metres wide, hanging
in the triumphal arch of a medieval church, surrounded by dozens of
canvases in the standard size of 200 by 140 cm that are mounted on the
church’s pillars and walls show heads and fantasy creatures which only
on closer inspection may be easily recognized as children’s drawings
– once more Helnwein upsets traditional structures of perception in
a number of ways, including the expectations that visitors have of a
Helnwein exhibition. This is signalled already by the title "KINDSKOPF",
which in addition to being a reference to the theme depicted (the head
of a child) refers to the ironically serious self-representation of
the artist (in German "Kindskopf" is a somewhat condescending
colloquialism for an adult acting in childish ways), similar to Helnwein’s
earlier catalogue title "Subhuman" ("Untermensch")
of 1988.
"There
is something dark in me, underneath all thinking, that I cannot measure
with thoughts, a life that does not express itself in words but that
is nevertheless my life . . ." (Robert Musil, Young TØ rless)
These
words of the young TØ rless from his speech to his perplexed teachers
describe a state of consciousness which is relegated from adult everyday
life in the same way that TØ rless is expelled from the boarding
school, the supervisory structures of which can no longer deal with
such an insight. What cannot be expressed in word emerges in
images, whose formulation the secularized adult society of modern times
has left to the artist, who is thus assigned a definite social function.
The child on the contrary, asocial in this sense, suffices unto himself,
and does not need to appropriate his images; they already belong
to him.
That
which is underneath all thinking and thus opposed to the reality that
can be experienced empirically has for many years now been expressed
by Helnwein in images that reflect a "hunger for intensity"
(K. A. SchrØ der, Die l¬ dierte Wirklichkeit, 1987).
In his Photo-Realist portraits (or more precisely, portraits painted
on the basis of Photo-Realist painting) "this hunger for intensity"
takes the form of a desperate striving for the impossible goal of having
reality find its complete expression in its image. The price for this
is an exaggeration which at times even turns into caricature; in this
way the artist achieves what corresponds to his understanding of art
as a mass media means of communication: that the work of art is completed
only by the viewer’s reaction to it (quite intentionally in the sense
of a therapeutic recognition of one’s own self).
Helnwein’s
works of art can only be decoded within the framework of his entire
concept, in which the misunderstanding of the (pseudo-autonomous) individual
work is nevertheless inherent as is a didactic that can very easily
be described in the terminology of classical rhetoric: the viewer is
entertained and made curious by the choice of a spectacular subject
(delectare); he is taught by means of the precise rendering of
the individual motifs (docere); and captivated by the suggestive
power of the painterly representation (persuadere). However, this suggestive
power no longer bases its legitimacy, as it had traditionally done,
on the artist’s imagination but on the reference to photography which
still enjoys the reputation of the authentic even after having been
refuted in the mass media reception of its 150th anniversary.
Irritation
and shock, i.e. the provocation of an extreme reaction, have been a
characteristic of Helnwein’s ouevre since his early works around 1970,
especially his self-portraits and images of children, whether in the
medium of (actionist) photography or a drawing. In these works the shock
is not caused by the painstaking narrative treatment of gruesome details
or frightening situations – for this has been known to every Central
European, above all every Austrian, from the Baroque art of the Counter
Reformation which following the rhetoric indicated above used exactly
the same means that have been familiar to us for centuries in all their
bloody details from thousands of altars. What is shocking is rather
the transferral of this concept to a secular everyday "object",
and what is more to one that has usually not been consciously perceived.
Helnwein’s depiction of a child as a stigmatized saviour (Lichtkind/Child
of Light, 1972) focuses on the contradiction between a (Christian) ideology
that believes in a child as the bringer of salvation – to whom the wise
(St. Mathhew 2,11), the old (St. Luke 2, 25 ff.) and prophets (St. Luke
2,36 ff.) bend their knees and pay homage – and the actual standards
and practices of society today.
The
arrogance, egocentricity and ignorance which children encounter in our
society is contrasted with Helnwein’s image of the child that completely
lacks the concomitant other side of this behaviour: no misguided treating
of children as simple-minded creatures, nothing of the happy innocence
with which children are cloaked, both in the family album and in advertising,
as a projection of an ideological transfiguration of one’s own childhood
into a grownup reality which is experienced as unsatisfactory (cf. Also
Peter Gorsen in the catalogue of the Helnwein exhibition "Subhuman"/
"Untermensch" 1988 and Reinhold Misselbeck in the catalogue
of "The Night of Ninth November" / "Neunter November
Nacht" 1990).
Helnwein
has summed up his iconology of the child in his monumental photo installation
"The Night of Ninth November". Irrespective of the political-historical
frame of reference that is indicated by this title, -- "Kristallnacht",
night of violence against Jewish persons and property carried out by
the German Nazis on November 9-10, 1938 – the sequence may be read as
a counterpart to the pop star gallery of the uomini famosi of
the 20th century youth culture which as an image of their
idols is again the counterpart of these anonymous children’s portraits.
Helnwein has not painted the stars in a way that would be in keeping
with their cult status, nor did he photograph the children as we are
used to looking at children. Doubtless inspired by their faces wearing
white make-up – which also gives a special character to the act of representing
them – the children emerge as whole and complete human beings whose
only "defect" is that they are small.
This
conception accords with a way of life that characterized European society
until the 17th century. Prior to the invention of childhood
as a control system which holds together the bourgeois nuclear family
in the way of a moral institution, children were neither innocent nor
needy, neither pampered nor maltreated, but instead "small people",
albeit not of too great importance in a juvenile population where life
was brief and tomorrow full of uncertainty. Instead of meeting with
arrogance, egocentricity and ignorance, however, they encountered friendliness,
role models and challenges which made them capable of autonomous, actively
relevant decisions already at an early age – as many sources prove.
The precondition for this was a social milieu which the family offered
economic and social but not moral support. Such secular feelings, however,
contradicted both the salvation pedagogy of the church and the reason
of state.
In
the spate of images painted during the late Middle Ages and in early
modern times, for the first time a distinction in the depiction of the
child was made between the naked and the clothed one, the ideal type
(as putto) and the individual child (in the grave portrait). In devotional
images of the Madonna with child, Jesus was more and more frequently
depicted realistically as a baby, in some instances – e.g. Mategna’s
work or the Wurzach altar by Hans Multscher – even shown wrapped in
swaddling clothes as was in fact the custom for a long time in order
to ensure the straightness of the baby’s limbs. If we examine 15th
century devotional images of the Madonna we note that alongside mere
prettiness there is also a striking diversity of the child’s expression
that is not at all "childlike", sometimes even allowing Jesus
to cast covetous or reserved glances at the viewer.
With
an instinctive certainty of mind and hand Helnwein has responded with
the concept of KINDSKOPF to the challenge of creating an exhibition
in the early Gothic church of the Grey Friars at Krems/Stein that was
secularized about 200 years ago by Emperor Joseph II. Helnwein uses
the first opportunity for such a presentation in his native Austria
and his home province of Lower Austria not only to sum up all of his
previous work on the essentially autobiographical theme of the child
in the surprising and very personal gesture of including his own children
in the exhibition not as objects but as co-workers, but with his painting
"KINDSKOPF" he also reacts specifically to the place of the
exhibition and its traditional aura.
On
the spot where in the medieval church the rood screen once separated
the monks’ choir from the laymen’s nave and probably only a monumental
crucifix symbolically marked the place of the sacred occurrence of offertory
and transsubstantiation, the painterly transformation of Helnwein’s
creative concept of "The Night of Ninth November" ("Neunter
November Nacht") evokes an immediate subjective emotion in the
viewer that owes its power to a spiritual sublimation of the factual,
similar to the effect of a devotional picture. It reflects the entire
collective subconscious and Helnwein makes us aware of it by means of
a joke – for in colloquial German, which only from the 17th
century onward, the word "kindskopf" may refer to all sorts
of childishness but certainly not to this contemplative fragile face.
This
staging alone would contradict Helnwein’s concept of a postauratic art
that produces original paintings only as a "noble byproduct",
if the artist did not disturb the mood set by the place by means of
the children’s works mounted in the nave. Allowing the original creativity
and the power of the child’s expressiveness to speak, is only one aspect
of looking at these pictures and a secondary one at that, for without
doubt, Ali Elvis, Amadeus and Mercedes Helnwein, who co-operated in
the exhibition, are children who have received extraordinarily many
stimuli through much attention and praise and who therefore have an
unusual capability to express themselves. What is essential is how these
children, especially the main contributer, Ali Helnwein, are learning
not playfully but rather through a completely serious activity. Ali
leaves the viewer in no doubt that he not only feels himself to be an
equal partner of Gottfried Helnwein – but really is!
The
hoopla which is stirred up by the interest in a matter can damage the
latter’s reputation, thus interfering with its intended effect. This
is what happened to the epoch-making book Centuries of Childhood
by Philippe Aries (to which I owe important ideas), and the same
can be observed again and again in the reception of Gottfried Helnwein’s
work. The seemingly childish artist who again and again plays
with poses, idols and fetishes, as most recently on the invitation and
poster for the present exhibition; the not at all childish face of a
(genuine) child; the creative achievements of children that have nothing
childish about them: with this intertwining Helnwein succeeded not only
in a decisive step in the integration of art with everyday life that
has always been a goal of his – and anyone who has seen him live and
work with his children will not doubt this even for an instant. The
longing to abolish the dialectics of childhood and old age, of wishful
thinking and reality in one’s own life also hints at something utopian
in the intertwining complexity of KINDSKOPF. "Painting is defending
oneself" (G. Helnwein) – but is it defending oneself against reality
or against the longing for that which is "underneath all thinking"?
