EXILE

Two tall towering structures both entitled Wächter dominate Kerstin von Gabain’s scenographic solo presentation. At first sight they can be described as a mixture between a bird house and an obelisk, however their scale, materials, and proportions subtly shift them away from being mere hybrids, turning them into ghostly and somewhat frightening as much a comically-trippy deliriums made of untreated cardboard.

The two towers’ tenants themselves are absent, existing only as mere hypothetical shadow of a former self. An artist-made silicone rubber band attached to a Pinocchio-like nose seems to hint to a previous tenant’s physicality. The opening and prolonged perch are uncanny allusions to bodily functions such as mouth or nose and pose questions concerning inside and out, surveillance or protection for whom from whom and vice-versa.

The stead like presentation of the neon sign on the floor seems a further spin on nesting, shelter and dwellings, but here it’s content spoils the group. Finally, an isolated black monochromatic, cathedral-like window on an otherwise blank white plain appears as entrance to, or exit of, a tunnelling escape that leads nowhere.

Works on display:
Wächter, 2024
, cardboard, wood, silicone, 217 x 30 x 60 cm
Wächter, 2024
, cardboard, wood, silicone, 330 x 35 x 70 cm
rotten apple, 2024
, neon, metal, wood, 20 x 70 x 106 cm
Fenster, 2023
, oil paint on cardboard, 67 x 29 x 3 cm