- 117
MARTIN KIPPENBERGER | Ohne Titel (The Carlyle Suites)
估價
50,000 - 70,000 GBP
招標截止
描述
- Martin Kippenberger
- Ohne Titel (The Carlyle Suites)
- signed with the artist's initials and dated 96
- pencil and coloured pencil on hotel stationery
- 27.8 by 21.3 cm. 10 7/8 by 8 3/8 in.
來源
Galerie Gisela Capitain, Cologne
Acquired from the above by the present owner
Acquired from the above by the present owner
出版
Exh. Cat., Vienna, Museum Moderner Kunst Stiftung Ludwig (and travelling), Nach Kippenberger, August 2003 - February 2004, p. 207, illustrated in colour
Gisela Capitain, Regina Fiorito and Lisa Franzen, Eds., Martin Kippenberger, Wekverzeichnis der Gemälde, Volume Four 1993-1997, Cologne 2014, p. 245, illustrated in colour
Gisela Capitain, Regina Fiorito and Lisa Franzen, Eds., Martin Kippenberger, Wekverzeichnis der Gemälde, Volume Four 1993-1997, Cologne 2014, p. 245, illustrated in colour
Condition
Colour: The colour in the catalogue illustration is fairly accurate. Condition: This work is in very good condition. The sheet is hinged verso to the backing board in numerous places. Very close inspection reveals some light creasing in places throughout. Extremely close inspection reveals four extremely light and minute spots of discoloration to the paper towards the upper two right hand corner tips, which are the result of previous hinging. Further extremely close inspection reveals some tiny media accretions, which appear to be original.
"In response to your inquiry, we are pleased to provide you with a general report of the condition of the property described above. Since we are not professional conservators or restorers, we urge you to consult with a restorer or conservator of your choice who will be better able to provide a detailed, professional report. Prospective buyers should inspect each lot to satisfy themselves as to condition and must understand that any statement made by Sotheby's is merely a subjective, qualified opinion. Prospective buyers should also refer to any Important Notices regarding this sale, which are printed in the Sale Catalogue.
NOTWITHSTANDING THIS REPORT OR ANY DISCUSSIONS CONCERNING A LOT, ALL LOTS ARE OFFERED AND SOLD AS IS" IN ACCORDANCE WITH THE CONDITIONS OF BUSINESS PRINTED IN THE SALE CATALOGUE."
"In response to your inquiry, we are pleased to provide you with a general report of the condition of the property described above. Since we are not professional conservators or restorers, we urge you to consult with a restorer or conservator of your choice who will be better able to provide a detailed, professional report. Prospective buyers should inspect each lot to satisfy themselves as to condition and must understand that any statement made by Sotheby's is merely a subjective, qualified opinion. Prospective buyers should also refer to any Important Notices regarding this sale, which are printed in the Sale Catalogue.
NOTWITHSTANDING THIS REPORT OR ANY DISCUSSIONS CONCERNING A LOT, ALL LOTS ARE OFFERED AND SOLD AS IS" IN ACCORDANCE WITH THE CONDITIONS OF BUSINESS PRINTED IN THE SALE CATALOGUE."
拍品資料及來源
Martin Kippenberger and Albert Oehlen met in the late 1970s. For the next two decades, they painted together, exhibited together, travelled together, and played in bands together. They were punk musicians, who didn’t need to learn instruments, and punk artists whose work rebelled against academic convention and contemporary taste. They were champions of bad painting and together they made their best paintings. After Joseph Beuys had decreed that “Every human being is an artist”, Kippenberger stood with Oehlen to boldly remind us that “Every artist is a human being”.
Kippenberger and Oehlen were artists in every medium: photographers and performers as well as authors, publishers, producers and printmakers. They were painters who seized upon the genre at a time when Minimalism and Conceptualism had declared it dead. In the 1980s, their paintings were deliberately rebellious; deliberately ‘bad’ according to accepted principles of artistic accomplishment; they rejected study drawing and academic draughtsmanship and only ever consciously identified with art-historical precedent in order to defile it. Oehlen ridiculed his own practice so that no critic could denigrate it further: “I never took figurative work seriously, even when I did it. I thought it was bullshit. The early self-portraits are highly ironic” (Albert Oehlen in conversation with Jennifer Samet, ‘Beer with a Painter: Albert Oehlen’, Hyperallergic, 8 April 2017, online). Kippenberger took it a step further, styling a drunken frog as his artistic alter-ego, and nailing it to across made from stretcher bars originally intended for paintings; a figure so ridiculous it was beyond ridicule, and so blindly offensive that it caused an international incident when it later appeared in exhibition; a visual parody of the archetypal suffering artist.
Kippenberger and Oehlen travelled together. They took their band – The Alma Band – on tour to Brazil, where Kippenberger stayed to carry out a number of wider conceptual projects and complete a dazzling self-portrait on Ipanema beach. Their most important trip took place in 1988, when they rented a house together in the southern Spanish town of Carmona. For Oehlen, it was the moment that he opened up to abstraction – the first step on the path that led him to such vast, dramatic, and colourful works as Die Badenden. For Kippenberger, it was the beginning of his underpants paintings, which show him in a pair of vast whiteY-fronts, aping a famous photo of Pablo Picasso and glorifying in his own absurdity. In Spain, Kippenberger also began making his street lamp works in earnest, casting, bending, and twisting the lamp posts to create sculptures that took mundane quotidian form but competed in the realms of high art. Both series show Kippenberger at his ebullient best: at once egotistical and self-effacing; parodic and pathetic. By embracing failure and exploiting disappointment, both he and Oehlen came to change the course of the twentieth-century art discourse, and create countless works of powerful aesthetic impact and intense conceptual force.
“For what makes these [Hotel] drawings compelling is not merely their status as individual documents, but their ever-generative seriality, […] the ubiquity of hotel stationary thus stands in for the itinerant values of the artist” (Pamela M. Lee, ‘If Everything Is Good, Then Nothing Is Any Good Any More’, in: Exh. Cat., Los Angeles, The Museum of Contemporary Art, Martin Kippenberger: The Problem Perspective, 2008, p. 204).
Kippenberger and Oehlen were artists in every medium: photographers and performers as well as authors, publishers, producers and printmakers. They were painters who seized upon the genre at a time when Minimalism and Conceptualism had declared it dead. In the 1980s, their paintings were deliberately rebellious; deliberately ‘bad’ according to accepted principles of artistic accomplishment; they rejected study drawing and academic draughtsmanship and only ever consciously identified with art-historical precedent in order to defile it. Oehlen ridiculed his own practice so that no critic could denigrate it further: “I never took figurative work seriously, even when I did it. I thought it was bullshit. The early self-portraits are highly ironic” (Albert Oehlen in conversation with Jennifer Samet, ‘Beer with a Painter: Albert Oehlen’, Hyperallergic, 8 April 2017, online). Kippenberger took it a step further, styling a drunken frog as his artistic alter-ego, and nailing it to across made from stretcher bars originally intended for paintings; a figure so ridiculous it was beyond ridicule, and so blindly offensive that it caused an international incident when it later appeared in exhibition; a visual parody of the archetypal suffering artist.
Kippenberger and Oehlen travelled together. They took their band – The Alma Band – on tour to Brazil, where Kippenberger stayed to carry out a number of wider conceptual projects and complete a dazzling self-portrait on Ipanema beach. Their most important trip took place in 1988, when they rented a house together in the southern Spanish town of Carmona. For Oehlen, it was the moment that he opened up to abstraction – the first step on the path that led him to such vast, dramatic, and colourful works as Die Badenden. For Kippenberger, it was the beginning of his underpants paintings, which show him in a pair of vast whiteY-fronts, aping a famous photo of Pablo Picasso and glorifying in his own absurdity. In Spain, Kippenberger also began making his street lamp works in earnest, casting, bending, and twisting the lamp posts to create sculptures that took mundane quotidian form but competed in the realms of high art. Both series show Kippenberger at his ebullient best: at once egotistical and self-effacing; parodic and pathetic. By embracing failure and exploiting disappointment, both he and Oehlen came to change the course of the twentieth-century art discourse, and create countless works of powerful aesthetic impact and intense conceptual force.
“For what makes these [Hotel] drawings compelling is not merely their status as individual documents, but their ever-generative seriality, […] the ubiquity of hotel stationary thus stands in for the itinerant values of the artist” (Pamela M. Lee, ‘If Everything Is Good, Then Nothing Is Any Good Any More’, in: Exh. Cat., Los Angeles, The Museum of Contemporary Art, Martin Kippenberger: The Problem Perspective, 2008, p. 204).