Blog — Page 107 of 281

Anselm Kiefer - Gallerie Thaddaeus Ropac

I was recently asked what I like so much about Anselm Kiefer.

A simple question, yet not that easy to answer: Ever since I first laid eyes on Kiefer’s Wege der Weltweisheit: Die Hermannsschlacht, I felt his art reverberate deep inside the nether regions of my DNA in a manner that resembled a feeling of connectedness. A connectedness that I am now able to indulge in on a weekly basis after my runs as the woodcut is being exhibited in the Art Gallery of New South Wales.

I felt a charge, was intrigued from the get-go and throughout my travels and stints on different continents made sure to pilgrimage to wherever I could experience Kiefer’s multi-faceted, sometimes melancholic and often confrontational emissions in the flesh.

Experiencing Anselm Kiefer’s artwork in the third dimension is akin to unlocking atavisms inside of me – it provides a veil to give form to incomprehensible abstract concepts that make perfect sense, yet I would find myself hard-pressed to put into words. This includes not only adding depth and dimensions to the significance and effects of historical events but also phenomena that might sound odd to the uninitiated, e.g. experiencing the cosmological aspects of sunflowers or receiving information radiating from within the materials used for his art.

It would be difficult to recommend a starting point to venture into Kiefer’s cosmos as in the past forty years, his artistic endeavours could not be more varied, layered and symbolic and some meant to remain literal “works in progress”, i.e. the materials being highly textured and tactile with the underlying intent for the individual components to interact, disintegrate and eventually dissolve.

Born in 1945 and having been a student of Joseph Beuys, the exploration of Germany’s post-war identity has been a major theme throughout Kiefer’s work. However, what he channelled through his lens did not just stop with Germany’s fraught history but eventually started to encompass human history and rituals of memorialisation at large, which branched out into the artistic interpretation of cabalistic and religious concepts as well as channelling his deep connection with books and literature through his art, often using hand-written references and quotes to either accompany or juxtapose his artwork.

Needless to say that I was elated when I learned about Anselm Kiefer’s current exhibition being dedicated to a series inspired by one of Germany’s most prominent poets of the Middle Ages, i.e. Walther von der Vogelweide.

With this series being multi-layered in nature, the densely painted surfaces pictorially decipher, decode and balance the dichotomy of beauty and decay with von der Vogelweide’s poems serving as the guiding principle, anchoring each artwork and through symbiosis and evoking associations connected to historic, mythological and cultural events.

Not unlike with his previous incarnations, Kiefer actively resists to create affirmative art, which is further elaborated on in Galerie Ropac’s comprehensive catalogue, released to accompany the Walther von der Vogelweide exhibition, including illuminating commentary along with conversation between Anselm Kiefer and gallerist Thaddaeus Ropac.

Gallerist Thaddaeus Ropac has a long-standing history with Anselm Kiefer and while I have unfortunately not been able to visit any of their exhibitions or their galleries in Salzburg, Paris and London, the wonderful books that are still available from Ropac are an experience in themselves and give a carefully curated impression of what I have missed out on.

An example par excellence is the book that was published on the occasion of the exhibition Fu?r Andrea Emo, which not only details the monumental canvases and sculptures, but also includes extracts of Anselm Kiefer’s diary, shedding light on the thoughts that inspired the use of boiling lead on canvases to create a palimpsest illustrating the concepts of regeneration and destruction – themes that were inherent in Emo’s nihilistic reflections.

The exhibition Im Gewitter der Rosen and the accompanying book brings this expose full circle as apart from Arthur Rimbaud’s absinthe-tinged poetry and Ingeborg Bachmann’s prose work, one of the main leitmotifs is the aforementioned Walther von der Vogelweide.

In his idiosyncratic manner, Kiefer uses the metaphorical poems to inspire his storm-riddled, multi-layered sedimentary paintings, which at times look more like they were “dripped” rather than formally painted. The sculptures of this series see the recurring incorporation of sunflowers and glass against the backdrop of the firmament, evoking connections between natural forces as well as micro- and macroscopic concepts and on a grander scheme, the cycle of life.

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image from gallery website

The Formative Years – Where the Cold Things Were in the Eighties

Apart from the new world, Germany, Japan and the UK, Northern European countries when it came to exciting and genre coining bands with the realm of punk and hardcore during the cold war period. Specifically in the Eighties, bands from Nordic countries held a special appeal as they were not only linguistically unique but their uncompromising intensity and originality of their respective emissions was unrivalled and often went on to have more than a subtle influence on the way underground music evolved for years to come.

I am not necessarily proud to say that it was through Rock-O-Rama Records’ mail-order that I got introduced to the second album of Appendix from Finland, which was a gateway to Suomi hardcore at large.

With Appendix not exactly being on the rawest end of the spectrum and actually being quite melodic and well-versed in songwriting alternating faster with catchy slower songs compared to the vacuum cleaner core a lot of their contemporaries produced, I went on to track down their first LP on Propaganda Records from 1983, which was even more to my liking: An instant classic whose influence on other bands from the region cannot be overestimated.

Hooked on the exotic factor that is the aggressive sounding vowel-heavy agglutinating Finnish language, I ventured on to check out and love Riistetyt, who were exciting as they took the essence of what their equivalents from the UK, i.e. Discharge and Disorder, produced, boiled it down and turned it back up to 11 while being much rawer, yet catchier and less monotonous in the process. The fact that in terms of aesthetics they looked like a fairy-tale version of over-the-top studded, mohawked hardcore punks was the cherry on top.

Another Finnish band that perfectioned the melange of D-beat inspired rawness and early US hardcore were Terveet Kädet, who took things to the next level not just in terms of speed and precision, but also in terms of their screamed vocal delivery.

It was through the Cleanse the Bacteria and P.E.A.C.E. compilations that I heard a band from Sweden that instantaneously struck of chord: Mob 47 is to this day one of my all-time favourite bands of the genre. They lead me to bands like Anti-Cimex, whose signature sound of their outstanding “Victim of a bombraid” and “Raped ass” 7”s became the blueprint that inspires crust punk bands the world over to this day.

Norway must be one of the more overlooked European countries when it comes to quality hardcore punk in the Eighties.

Case is point: Bannylyst.

While many of the Scandinavian bands focussed on competing in terms of “faster, louder, harder than thou”-ethics and attempting to create as much dissonant noise as possible, Bannylyst were musically far ahead of their time as they fused the trademark Discharge aggression with more melodic riffing to create their very own, dare I say, more “sophisticated” sound, which while being catchy was not devoid at all of the angst and immediacy that was inherent in other bands that were less inclined to weave a tune into their noisy emissions. 

The torch of Bannylyst and their influence was carried on through the fantastic bands the ex-members formed, of which I had the fortune to witness So Much Hate in a live environment. Norwegian punk and hardcore is a treasure trove and I recommend digging deep, especially if Turbonegro is the only band that comes to your mind when thinking of the land of the midnight sun.

The Formative Years – The “Drop”

Having been socialized with German punk rock in my early teenage years, the excitement and dangerous aspects I derived from the music I was listening to was to no small extent based on lyrical content and on how radical the messages were.

Long before the echo-chamber that algorithms of the internet provided, it felt easy to determine some simple genre-related guidelines, which minimized the encounter of unwanted surprises when it came to collecting punk rock records.

Things changed when I was exposed to hardcore and thereby bands that tore down the traditional, stale versus-chorus format.

While some bands merely indulged in the credo of “harder, faster, louder”, which was an appealing proposition in itself, the lion’s share of bands I discovered excited me with their more dynamic songwriting and focus on rhythm instead of melody, as it offered a new level of intensity, specifically when it came to unpredictable abrupt tempo changes and the abrasiveness of the vocal delivery.

Things got interesting musically, when hardcore bands incorporated thrash elements as far as high output pickups, bass heaviness and D Beast drumming components were concerned, culminating in the joy that put a smile on my face nearly every time I encountered it: The wonderful effect achieved by guitarists letting chords ring out,  halving the time signature, often accompanied by the trademark four clicked precursor and mayhem that ensued after, i.e. the glorious mosh part.

The mid-nineties saw a transition of hardcore bands infusing their musical emissions with lower tuning, percussive focussed pedal tones, double bass drumming, blast beats and slow passages that elevated the intensity of the mosh parts to new heights.

At around the same time, my musical horizons broadened and apart from delving into Kraut rock, hip hop and through my girlfriend at the time and much to the horror of my peers, I explored EDM.

I found it fascinating that what she referred to as the “drop”, was not only very similar in nature to the mosh parts I loved in hardcore punk, but through the opportunities that electronic music offered, the moment where tension was released  could be calibrated to perfection.

While the absence of a “message” was at first a deterrent in my juvenile hardcore punk mind, going to hip hop shows raves and experiencing the energy released when after monumental build-ups as bass and rhythm hit hardest, was a joy that was reminiscent of the glory of a well-executed mosh part.  No matter the genre, it was providing the sound to becoming ignorant in the best way possible.

Over the years, the “drop” has remained when it comes to finding music appealing after the first listen – no matter if it was the shuffling beat that follows a full bass line in dubstep, the bounciness that ensues when main melodies converged on the foundation of a syncopated bassline in house music,, when beatmatching tracks where lead towards a synchronised climax in DJing or the monstrous breakdowns bands of the metalcore genre these days fabricate.

Thus Let Us Drink Beer – Bodriggy

Bodriggy must be the newest Australian brewery we are covering as part of this series and it was unbeknownst to me until very recently. Thing is once you see the eye-catching designs that adorn Bodriggy’s cans, you would understand that one would be hard pressed to not investigate further and be intrigued as to what their brewed emissions would taste like.

Bodriggy Brewing’s Utropia Pale Ale is a tour de force in terms of tropical flavours resulting from the marriage of Mosaic, Calypso and Azacca hops, framed by a dry, slightly bitter finish.

An IPA on the more exotic end of things is Bodriggy’s Thundercloud Sour IPA, which sees coconut and mango uniting to a melange that is topped by a delicate tartness. While this won’t be making a regular appearance on my IPA rotation, it was quite a nice way to mix things up, especially as it counterpointed the dram of Octomore 10.3 I paired it with.

Bodriggy Brewing’s Fuzzy Dance Explosion is quite a telling name as it is a sour that sends your tastebuds on a hazy rollercoaster ride through tingling juicy, acidic territory, derived from Galaxy and Sabro hops, which are pierced by citrussy and mandarin-esque highlights caused by Norwegian kveik yeast.

Bodriggy’s collaboration with Birdsnake MandyMuck is not only a mouthful of a name but also in literally every other aspect as it sees the brewery joining forces with Melbourne’s Birdsnake, who provide their ethically sourced cocoa to create a mid-strength brew heavily infused with juicy mandarin and lactose flavour notes that rest on a foundation of chocolate. The collaboration also saw both entities embark on creating some limited, formidable looking couture, which can be ordered through Bodriggy’s online shop.

Bodriggy’s Hazy Indoor Plant Sale WCIPA lives up to the impressions that the name and the again exotic looking artwork on the can would have you think: Tropical hop aromas galore on the citrussy mandarin-mangoed end of the spectrum with barely noticeable bitterness that comes in a thickly hazy body.

Bodriggy Brewing’s Blinker Dark Ale is their homage to the traditional dark ales of the old world and provides a nice counterpoint to the overly sweet and citrussy expressions with a focus on stouty, nutty caramel notes that are bookended by a nice dry finish.

Water of Life – Wild Turkey Master Keep series

Wild Turkey is a benchmark on this earthround with its portfolio that runs the gamut from ubiquitous affordable every day bourbons that are easy to obtain to special edition releases, each of which have not only the mastery of the distillery but also more often than not an interesting story and narrative behind it.

Wild Turkey’s Master’s Keep series is not merely an artificially created special edition, but one that is highly coveted by anyone remotely into bourbon for a reason. Take for example the Decades variant, which was incepted to celebrate Eddie Russell’s 35th Anniversary at Wild Turkey and had the man himself carefully curate the selection of barrels that were going to be used, with the name being appropriate as there is no distinct age statement with the barrels’ age ranging from ten to twenty years.

Coming in an opulently designed and custom-made box, the bottle itself along with the metal topped cork provides eye candy and sets expectations high.

Upon uncorking, there is the trademark Wild Turkey aroma known from their staple 101 expression, i.e. the idiosyncratic melange of orange, banana, brown sugars, caramel, cinnamon and honeyed butterscotch, accentuated by hoppy, floral and wheaty highlights.

On the top of the mouth the complexity of the Decades unveils itself as flavours tip toe between sweet maple syrupy, oaky and spicy nutmeggy territory, cross pollinating each other and adding layers of depth upon each swirl.

A seamless transition to the finish sees the aforementioned flavours more pronounced, with ethanol and tannic nuances being counterpointed by oaky, black peppery and sweet undertones.

If I had to compare the boldness of the Decades to Wild Turkey’s 101 or the Kentucky Spirit I’d go as far as to claim that it is the richer, more substantial and richer parent version of it.

The next of the Master’s Keep portfolio I was able to sample was the Wild Turkey 1894 expression, which has been produced to signify the start of the distilling journey and the conception of what became known as the trademark Wild Turkey tradition.

Not unlike other expressions of the Master’s Keep series, the barrels for the 1894 were carefully selected from the oldest brick warehouse, i.e. a climate controlled multi-storied “rickhouse”, which was built in the same year due to its nature ensures steady maturation conditions compared to modern warehouses.

Copper in colour with an amber tinge, the 1894 tickles the nostrils with cider-esque apple aromas, which are framed by honeyed vanilla and crisp grassy and herbaceous highlights.

On the top of the mouth, dominant toffee, glazed apples, syrupy pears weave themselves in layers of butterscotch and a soft oakyness.

The medium length finish bookends the experience on the sweeter end of the spectrum.

The first two of the premium offerings in the Master’s Keep range were utterly convincing and I could not wait to sample one that I had heard curious things about, i.e. the Revival expression, which has been aged in twenty year old Spanish Oloroso sherry casks – especially since I have not had the pleasure of encountering many sherry cask matured bourbons before. In Scotch territory, I am not the biggest sherry cask fan, particularly because I often find that over reliance on casks is often meant to make up for what the whisky itself could not achieve.

Colour-wise this expression does not surprisingly land in ruby-rusty brown territory and on the nose, things get interesting instantaneously as the expected dried fruit notes are married to piquant funky cheese, white peppery, vinegar and delightful rubbery highlights that are rounded out via cotton candy, banana and woody undertones – interesting, mouth-watering and complex to say the very least.

Spicy, woody cherry flavour nuances caress the top of the mouth, swirling firmly textured with pepperminty liquorice and delightful campfiry ashy cinnamon notes. The flavours seamlessly transition to an elongated finish, which culminates in a crescendo of dark chocolatey notes with citrussy and stone fruity highlights.

I found that the Revival expression is one that grows after getting used to the forces at work, as the second dram the flavourful nuances and complexity come to fruition and serve as an example par excellence for the craftmanship and integrity Eddie Russell channels his alchemy in.

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image from company website