Paper artworks by Maria Popp

Until August 9, the mSE Kunsthalle is showing three works by artist and cultural educator Maria Popp. The works show the process of creation as a layering of written, painted, reworked layers and are reminiscent of the history of the medium of the book, which also approaches the recipient as an auratic object. The material of the works gives the impression of liveliness and depth, especially in contrast to the clean, simply manufactured bases.

The parallels between the book and the human body are important to the artist, who regularly devotes herself to drawing nudes. Even the feel and coloring of the paper is reminiscent of human skin. Man and book share their spatiotemporal presence and vulnerability. Even beyond this, the works can awaken associations and reveal parallels, for example with regard to how unity arises and disintegrates, thus spanning a wide arc through cultural history from “coincidence” to “Altamira”.

The “Triangular Ring Book” does without right angles - only its cover returns the work to the usual grid – and emphasizes the status of the book as a spatial object that arches over the base like a caterpillar. The rings could give rise to the question of how the connection – both of its pages and its history of transmission – is created.

The »Dying Niobid« is a late classical sculpture depicting a son of Niobe in his last moments of agony. The artist has examined the marble sculpture in the Munich Glyptothek again and again in sketches. In her leporello, the sketches once again gain life-size plasticity through staggering and superimposition and at the same time make it clear that the book is also a temporal medium.

(Picture by the artist)

The leporello seems to be in the process of »disintegration«, layering slips of paper in various states of decay on one side, while the writing on the reverse seems to be fighting against oblivion and the ravages of time. Apparently, the precious slipcase will soon only contain individual leaves. The book is no less threatened by decay than the human being.

(Picture by the artist)

Questions for the artist

Do you write a diary?

Yes, I write in my diary, not regularly, but a lot at times.

Is that connected to the artistic creative process?

Only indirectly: Diaries are about the topic of perception itself, which flows into the artistic creation.

Do you re-read your old diaries?

Rarely. 

Your works clearly show a long creative process: Is that more important than the result?

You can't really say that. Neither is conceivable without the other, both are roughly equal. One reacts to intermediate results, which in turn influence the work process. On the other hand, if it was clear from the outset that nothing would be left, you wouldn't start. But it also happens that I discard the result. That doesn't necessarily mean that the project has failed. For me, it's about developing perception and realization.

You regularly devote yourself to nude drawing, where the process and repetition also seem to be at the center, not the production of a thing: art as practice?

I find it difficult to describe myself as an artist. Practicing and processing are the decisive factors for me.

The book »Dying Niobid« collages sketches of a late classical Greek sculpture depicting a figure from even older mythology – how does one deal with the legacy?

This motif in particular has been the subject of much work in art history. Every person can deal with the legacy in a new way from their own perspective. The figure looks to me like a film still: it captures a movement in the body tension of the figure, the last moment of dying. I see a great deal of technical skill in how this is achieved.

Is this your favorite figure in the Glyptothek?

Yes.

It inspires you to see the old mastery anew through the eyes of cinema?

Yes.

Do your works capture book culture's last moment of dying?

Oh ...

In bookshops, the corner where books for self-writing are sold seems to be growing in proportion.

Creative or experimental writing definitely has its place, even the biography or poetry albums that interview your grandmother have a value where personal relationships in families are concerned. On the other hand, writing a literary work over many years is a special achievement, the passion, the talent, the suffering involved. The appreciation for this may be softened by the impulse “I can do that too”. This may have to do with the loss of role models and the traditional claim to education as an end in itself. As a cultural educator, I experience in my work that there is a deep enthusiasm, not only for creating, but also for discovering, for which we constantly revisit tradition.

One reason often given for why few books are read is that you can only do it quietly and alone. With this in mind, what does your working process look like?

Creative work, painting, drawing, has a lot to do with being alone and in silence and requires long periods of time, hours that can pass without any results. I cope better than average with solitude and silence.

Texte und Fragen Andreas Pawlitschko