Birgit Dieker: Derma. Este artículo no está disponible.Birgit Dieker: Derma

Since the 1960s, sculptors have used materials such as latex, felt, fabric, and even hair. Regarded as low-value and perishable, such ingredients refer the beholder to his own body and bring a profound psychological component into play-rather than merely irritating his gaze, they touch him quite immediately on the physical level. Birgit Dieker (b. Gescher, 1969, lives in Berlin) works in this tradition. Her sculptures attest to a relentless engagement with the human body, which she dissects into its individual elements and defamiliarizes. Working with staples such as corsetry, discarded clothes, hair, and leather, she composes fragmented bodies or organs. Layer by layer, she compacts her materials to create figures and objects before making deliberate cuts that bring their innermost core to the surface. The aesthetically perfect surface thus reveals emotional injuries and psychological abysses from which we cannot avert our eyes. The catalogue features an essay by Andrea Jahn that sheds light on these subtly interwoven issues from the perspective of the art historian; Clemens Meyer's literary portrait "Anita," meanwhile, promises an intoxicating reading experience.

Since the 1960s, sculptors have used materials such as latex, felt, fabric, and even hair. Regarded as low-value and perishable, such ingredients refer the beholder to his own body and bring a profound psychological component into play-rather than merely irritating his gaze, they touch him quite immediately on the physical level. Birgit Dieker (b. Gescher, 1969, lives in Berlin) works in this tradition. Her sculptures attest to a relentless engagement with the human body, which she dissects into its individual elements and defamiliarizes. Working with staples such as corsetry, discarded clothes, hair, and leather, she composes fragmented bodies or organs. Layer by layer, she compacts her materials to create figures and objects before making deliberate cuts that bring their innermost core to the surface. The aesthetically perfect surface thus reveals emotional injuries and psychological abysses from which we cannot avert our eyes. The catalogue features an essay by Andrea Jahn that sheds light on these subtly interwoven issues from the perspective of the art historian; Clemens Meyer's literary portrait "Anita," meanwhile, promises an intoxicating reading experience.