Against the grain

An undercurrent typically flows in the opposite direction of surface currents, so the selection of two Czech and two German artists by Petr Nedoma for Galerie Rudolfinum's show "Undercurrent" can be seen as an attempt to showcase work that in some way goes against the grain of tradition, and the mainstream of contemporary art. It also hints at the pull these counter-tides might have on prevailing contemporary currents, given the right conditions.

All the artists are presented in individual rooms, so, in a sense, this group show is like four consecutive solo exhibitions. Only at the end do the puzzle pieces fall into place.

On the surface, the themes and styles of these four artists - Germans Jonathan Meese and Martin Eder, then Czechs Jiří Straka and Josef Bolf - could hardly be more different. What they unarguably have in common is that all were born between 1967 and 1971. They are all schooled in the European art tradition, and additionally linked by a tendency toward exaggeration, irony and kitsch.

Upon entering the exhibition, visitors first encounter a roomful of life-size or larger sculptures by Meese (born in 1970 in Tokyo, now living in Berlin and Hamburg) that are alive with raw energy. His bronze statues acknowledge the European sculptural tradition, then throw down the gauntlet - a metaphorical challenge embodied in the mock phallic posturing and the martial or warrior stances of a number of the figures.

Although Meese employs traditional bronze casting, he spurns the smooth surfaces usually associated with this method and instead opts to retain the immediacy of his original conception, as modeled in clay. In addition to surfaces roughly kneaded by the artist's hands, the sculptures are also gouged with symbols and text. Situated throughout the room like characters in a dramatic performance, these figures act not as a unified chorus but as a motley crew united by emotional energy and the collective desire to stage a rebellion. While the themes of the works often allude to mythology and German history, they also draw from literary sources and popular culture.

Leaving Meese's room, visitors step into an unsettling salon of canvases by Eder (born in 1968 in Augsburg, now living in Berlin). Painted in the academic style, they seem to be an unbridled celebration of kitsch, with subject matter ranging from adorable Persian kittens with sad eyes to tawdry tableaux of nudes and semi-nudes in front of stormy backdrops to scenes populated by strange hybrid creatures. A series of small paintings of cats and dogs at the far end of the room seem to have come straight out of a paint-by-numbers kit. By affecting the style of academic Neoclassicism, tacking on surrealistic titles and adding a portent of dark threat, Eder concocts a recipe that both sends up the tradition of the academy and also mocks the masses' proclivity for ersatz emotion. But, in the end, it's all postmodernist irony and mimesis - unfortunately lacking any real wit.

After the bombast of Eder's room, the beautiful paintings made by Straka using the Chinese brush and ink technique come as almost a shock to the system. After studying Sinology in Prague, Straka (born in Prague in 1967, now splitting time between Prague and Beijing) became one of the relatively few European artists to study classical ink painting at a Chinese art academy.

Concentrating on themes of nature, Buddhism and death, Straka's paintings draw on direct observation of nature. According to Chinese academic tradition, painting from nature need not involve an actual trip into nature, but rather a look back at how past masters have handled the subject. This is where Straka diverges from his adopted Chinese path, tapping his European roots to observe nature's brutal reality.

His paintings are awash in gray and black tones with blushes of pink and stains of red where death appears: a snowy owl with an ermine in its talons, a slaughtered chicken, a gored goat, the disembodied heart of a pig, an eviscerated pit bull. Titled Samsara II, the pit bull perhaps represents one idea about reincarnation, while the first Samsara in the show presents another: a lyrical floral abstract with passages of smoky gray underlying dusky rose, maroon and vermillion.

Straka's immersion in Chinese tradition represents his first turn away from tradition. Because Chinese academies still emphasize reverential imitation of the masters, Straka's Western urge toward originality and self-expression represents a second turning, going against the tide of Chinese tradition.

Leaving Straka's beautiful meditations on mortality, visitors find themselves in the deeply disquieting world of Bolf (born in 1971 in Prague, where he lives today). The series he presents here, painted specifically for this exhibition, depicts the aftermath of some terrible occurrence at an elementary school (in preparation for the series, Bolf photographed rooms in the elementary school he attended).

In every room of the school, children lie dead, and the survivors are walking wounded, physically and emotionally. They wander the school alone, seemingly unaware of their classmates. Severed human and animal parts are strewn throughout the building, and blood is everywhere - spurting from their hands, streaming from their eyes, flowing like a river across the gymnasium floor. Bolf limits his palette to grays and the gamut of reds, with passages of black scratched away to reveal violet undertones, and occasional touches of slate green and other accent colors to powerful effect.

What these four artists ultimately share, aside from being shaped by the same period in history, is their position outside the mainstream. However, as in nature, undercurrents can sometimes have an unexpectedly strong pull on surface currents - which, in fact, is completely in keeping with the European artistic tradition.

Mimi Fronczak Rogers can be reached at
Features@praguepost.com