SPOTS, "Weil ich nun mal hier lebe", 2017/ Hatice Ayten, Ohneland, 1995
The NSU complex — the failure of German authorities to uncover a series of murders conducted by the right-wing National Socialist Underground (NSU) between 2000 and 2007 — culminated in the unspectacular end of the NSU Trial in July. Even as the sentences of some of the accused were widely contested for being too lenient, the most surprising feature of the largest, longest and most expensive trial in German history was that it managed to sidestep the culpability of German authorities in the scandal. In a rather unusual twist, an exhibition of video art at Frankfurt’s Museum für Moderne Kunst (MMK) is picking up where the trial left off, exploring the nature of institutional racism and structural violence in Germany.
Because I Live here straddles the line between the documentary and the artistic. As the first show of its kind to specifically address racism and violence in post-migrant German society, it’s a milestone for contemporary art as far as its pertinent themes are concerned. The show provides the most comprehensive selection of ‘socially conscious’ German video Kunst, and undoubtedly the boldest critique of institutional racism and structural violence in an art museum since the reunification of Germany.
Installation view TOWERMMK, Forensic Architecture, , 2017, Copyright of Forensic Architecture. Photo by Axel Schneider.
Showing work by eleven artists and collectives, the exhibition’s premise is straight forward: the artists question homogenous concepts of ‘Germanness’ in post-migrant Germany society. While such video work has been typical for some of the established exhibiting artists like Harun Farocki (who has revealed how even the appearance and visual language of migration statistics can work to solidify clichés about the so-called ‘guest worker’ generation) the last decade has seen new work by collectives such as spot-the-silence, Forensic Architecture and SPOTS emerge in response to the NSU Complex also, as well as by artists like Azin Feizabdi, who addresses fragmented identities, transient memories and his own biography in his videos.
Because I live here encourages visitors to focus on the salient patterns rather than the sensational aspects of recent migration reporting in Germany. In short, which aspects of German society did migration bring to the fore? And if one accepts that migration did not bring racism, Islamophobia or antisemitism to Germany, where did they come from? Germany, surely, isn’t the worst place in the world. But if all is not as it seems, where does that leave those who live here?
Natasha A. Kelly, "Milli's Awakening", 2018, Courtesy Natasha A. Kelly.
The videos on display aims to address these complex questions. Natasha Kelly’s Milli’s Awakening, explores post-war German history by documenting the biographies of eight black German women. The piece, commissioned for the recently concluded 10th Berlin Biennale, turns Ernst Ludwig Kirchner’s 1911 painting Schlafende Milli (Sleeping Milli) on its head. In Kirchner’s painting, a naked black woman, ‘Milli’, is depicted asleep. Meanwhile, in Kelly’s piece, Milli is brought back to life by the stories of Black German women; Milli awakens, she is woke and reclaiming her time from both sexist and racist detractors.
Emeka Ogboh offers another response with a remake of Sufferhead stout beer that originally made waves at documenta 14. The Nigerian sound artist based in Berlin ventures into new territory by brewing a beer based on a recipe that he derived from conversations with black beer enthusiasts across Germany. He reimagines the Reinheitsgebot (purity requirement) — the holy grail of German beer brewing — by incorporating the palates of black German communities. In the video ad for this craft beer that Ogboh directs, a black waitress clad in a wax-print dirndl is enthusiastically serving Ogboh’s beer at Frankfurt’s Affentorplatz. It is soon clear that her mostly white male customers are lusting for what she is serving as much as for her. Ogboh thus exposes implicit patterns of objectification that mediate ideas around attractiveness and ‘taste’ in Germany.
Installation view of Emeka Ogboh's, "Sufferhead Original" (Frankfurt edition), 2018, Courtesy Emeka Ogboh. Photo: Axel Schneider
Speaking to curator Susanne Pfeffer with regard to MMK’s schedule this season — Cady Noland and Marianna Simnett are also on the bill — she says, “It was important to do projects that have not been done before, that have not been in the pipeline already for years”, adding that “The contemporary moment is very important. All three exhibitions, though very different, all address how structural violence manifests itself in contemporary German and global society”. For Pfeffer, Because I live here “is political from the onset”.
Slowly but surely, museums are waking up to the realisation that contemporary art has to speak to the moment. Even so, the decision to give an art platform over to ‘political’ topics such as institutional racism and structural violence is still very controversial in Germany. If contemporary artists continue to make art based on what is happening around them, however, ‘political’ work is likely to become the new ‘normal’ in art galleries.
Emeka Ogboh, "Sufferhead Original" (Frankfurt edition), 2018, Courtesy Emeka Ogboh. Photo: Axel Schneider.
In a different sense normality is the subject of Hito Steyerl’s video series, Normal. For Steyerl, ‘normal’ is simply what society considers tolerable. Steyerl’s piece consists of footage of antisemitic and racist violence, debunking the idea that racist attacks are sporadic and isolated in Germany. Among the footage is a clip of a memorial stone erected to honor an Algerian asylum seeker who died fleeing a Neo-Nazi mob — something that many Germans might consider to be a horrific thing of the past. The footage lingers on scenes longer than is necessary, creating an unflinching matter-of-factness that is hard to ignore or forget. In this way, these acts of violence are presented as a social reality existing side by side everyday activities. In Steyerl’s eyes, the continuity of these acts and the lack of political consequences normalises them.
Pfeffer admits that Because I live here was a challenging show to curate. Admittedly, museums are not in the business of critiquing institutional racism and structural violence — it’s thoroughly new ground for them. While the individual artworks touch on seemingly disparate aspects of German life, collectively they create a formidable overview of how fleeting everyday encounters, structures and institutions platform violence and racism. The relatability of many of the pieces goes a long way in driving the message home, and in educating visitors about the very human stories behind some of the most of sensational headlines of recent years. Art plays a critical role in revealing these correlations, as demonstrated particularly by the pieces addressing the NSU complex. Without such artistic interventions our understanding of such crucial issues would be significantly worse off. By investigating and presenting these harrowing stories and realities, Because I live here establishes itself as one of the most important exhibitions of the moment.
“Because I live here” runs through to 31 March 2019 at MMK, Frankfurt.