Submissive Sculpture

Abstract

The title of the exhibition points in two directions, namely towards 'submission' and towards 'sculpture'. While the term 'submissive' connotes an inclination to yield to power or authority, suggesting humility, those qualities appear to stand in opposition to typical expectations of artistic work. Yet in developing the show, an appeal of the term lay precisely in contrasting it with the second part of the title: 'sculpture.'

The exhibition unfolds entirely on the wall, on both a vertical and horizontal plane. The vertical plane is occupied by objects made of canvas fabric in the shape of drain pipes. On the horizontal plane, mounts are screwed to the wall. They are part of sculptures, serving as supports in their construction and originally holders for ballet barrés, whose typical wooden bars have been replaced here with aluminum tubes. The pipes in the exhibition are mounted approximately 20 cm too high to actually serve as a balance support. They shift from the hand to the eye.

The word 'holding' here serves as a crucial clue: support. As a child, I did ballet myself, and I hated it, but my mother insisted that it was good for my posture. Today, I find it fascinating that in the German language, this physical posture and attitude—as in mindset or political stance—are exactly the same word. Beyond that, posture is an essential question in my work, specifically in terms of body posture, or in terms of 'posing' as an assertion.

The negative connotation of 'submission' is evident, emphasizing a 'humble and obedient' nature. However, what is more interesting is the potential positive aspects of submission. What strength can be found in choosing to submit? There are, of course, erotic implications as well, involving an agreement on certain rules, in order to create a kind of latitude or freedom. Additionally, there are nuances in the etymology of the word, such as 'to let down, put down, lower, reduce'. What would that mean for a sculpture? A sculpture that gives in?

The drain pipe sculptures are modular by design, allowing for adaptation to various contexts. The individual modular components correspond to standard industrial rain pipes and can be extended or modified as desired using Velcro fasteners. The ballet bar's relationship to space also plays a role, but so do the relationships between their individual components. Experimenting with these relationships was a crucial part of the studio work. Since the basic idea behind the sculptures already involved concepts of 'posture' and 'holding', 'being-held' also came into play. In the process, the notion of submission evolved into one of dependence. Both terms describe the willingness to limit one's autonomy to engage into an interrelationship that provides, for example, support or security. I imagined this dependency again as something that allows for conflicting readings.

Being held, for example, can be described in psychoanalysis as a "holding environment." An environment that arises between someone in the mother role and a held baby. It clearly describes the child's dependence, but also the potential for this positive environment to be transferred to other situations later on. During the installation, I was fascinated by the fact that the drains still carry the functional logic of rain pipes like an afterimage—even though they could no longer possibly conduct any kind of liquid. Rain pipes are always "hidden in plain sight" on facades. They are pushed to the edge, somewhere off to the side, as if they were no longer visible there. This mechanism seems to continue to have an effect in the canvas pipes. As if they would prefer to run along an edge or next to a window frame.

The second part of the exhibition title - 'sculpture' - was also a means of reflecting on what it means to position oneself toward or within an artistic medium. After all, what are we actually talking about when we talk about art? Often, it is questions about content, questions about contexts outside of art. For example, we discuss social contexts that are important to us, which are not necessarily embedded in the work itself, but are often superimposed as a further layer, such as in a title or press release. Alternatively, especially in sculpture, people like to talk about the material, which I personally find boring when the interest is limited to how something has been produced.

There might be a potential in looking at the medium not only from its core, but also from its periphery, where it meets and merges with other genres. How the medium spans a space that always provides a playing field and a memory, and thus the way in which one distances oneself from it can create a fruitful tension. On the other hand, the term as we use it actually originates from a different era and is laden with historical connotations.

As an opportunity to expand the term, Submissive Sculpture imagines the medium just as it imagines the space: Something that can hold. Is it not literally defined as the support? As a carrier. Moreover, this notion functions as a translation mechanism: if analyzing the relationships between sculpture and its surrounding contexts opens up discussions about dependencies and interactions within these frameworks—then such an analytical approach can serve as a valuable tool for drawing parallels beyond the exhibition space—for example, in social contexts—as in a model, so to speak.

Isn't dependence a form of belonging? Is there something beautiful and reassuring about thinking that we are part of something else? Why does autonomy hold such high social value?