Seit den 1990ern wurde Katharina Wulffs Malerei, auch in dieser Zeitschrift, vielfach diskutiert, dabei allerdings eher be- und umschrieben als letztgültig ausgedeutet. Die Kunsthalle Baden-Baden widmete der Künstlerin jüngst eine Überblicksschau. Bilder aller Schaffensphasen und aktuelle skulpturale Arbeiten kumulieren zu einem Werk, dessen Motive zwischen Realismus und Unwirklichkeit changieren. In ihrer Rezension führt Inka Meißner aus, wie in der Schau „Arabesken in Arabesken“ die zeitliche Qualität von Wulffs Malerei in den Vordergrund tritt und dadurch ortsspezifische, werkimmanente und historische Bezüge in eins fallen.

The tragic death of Hilde Lynn Helphenstein, aka Jerry Gogosian, has sparked a deluge of reactions – above all, sincere expressions of respect. Magnus Resch was a regular guest on Helphenstein’s podcast Art Smack and, beyond that, was a frequent interlocutor for her despite – or perhaps precisely because of – their different approaches to engaging with the art economy. In his obituary for Helphenstein, Resch reflects on the complex yet loving relationship she had with her field and reminds us that her own art consisted of a rekindled lust for painting but also of making the art world laugh at itself.

Like other female artists of her generation, Lenke Rothman made use of personal, everyday objects in her assemblages. The techniques of stitching and binding in Rothman’s assemblages evoke, in particular, the material poems of Amelia Etlinger. Yet Rothman’s work – recently presented at the Kunstverein in Hamburg in her first survey exhibition outside Sweden – is often read primarily through the lens of Rothman having begun her artistic practice after surviving the Shoah, while its formal qualities have received comparatively less attention. In her review, Dara Jochum examines how the exhibition responds to the challenge of contextualizing Rothman’s work without allowing the reception of her biography to overshadow the work itself.

For its most recent exhibition in the US, curated by Udo Kittelmann, the Stoschek Foundation brought back to life the Variety Arts Theater in Downtown Los Angeles. Built in the 1920s in Renaissance style and used as an event location after having ceased its original operations, the building blends different eras – and thus seems like an apt choice of location for the show, which juxtaposed contemporary video works from the collection with historical silent films. As Tim Griffin highlights in his review, the almost archaeological site provided a perfect backdrop for a somewhat hauntological viewing experience, invoking a present that is poised between what is, what has been, and the uncertainty of what is yet to come.

Bruce Hainley’s response to Annette Weisser’s last letter spans a surprising spectrum, from the absurd grandeur and vamped up villains of the latest Met Gala all the way to the subtle watercolor compositions of dancers by Silke Otto-Knapp, currently exhibited in LA. Can the latter – with their light graphic lines, gestural alignments, gradual transitions, and soft grisaille – serve as an effective counterpoint to the first? “Dance just to dance,” sings Aldous Harding in “Train on the Island,” which Hainley listens to while writing to Weisser. The figures in Otto-Knapp’s drawings certainly do.

Annette Weisser and Bruce Hainley, in their correspondence published here as the column “Supertramps,” frequently reference titles by the band of the same name. Given the way the world keeps turning despite all sorts of disasters, it is particularly apt that “Crisis? What Crisis?” – the moniker of Supertramp’s fourth studio album – is now being cited by Weisser. It came to her mind when visiting the most recent Gallery Weekend Berlin, where a series of photographs by Pippa Garner elicited a bout of black humor. Taking Garner’s photos as a starting point, Weisser reflects on the omnipresence of pornography in the wake of the current patriarchal backlash – a crisis that may be going on for too long to even be called one at all.

Die sprichwörtlich gewordenen „Lichter der Großstadt“ beleuchten nur selten jene, die in ihren Maschinenräumen deren Puls am Leben halten. In seiner ersten Einzelausstellung in der Schweiz setzt sich Amol K Patil mit Arbeitsmigration und Prekarität am Beispiel der Dalits, der Menschen am untersten Ende des traditionellen indischen Kastensystems auseinander, wobei der Fokus auf Narrativen und Funktionen von Sichtbarkeit und Unsichtbarkeit liegt. Wie Philip Ursprung in seiner Rezension herausstellt, wirft Patil so Fragen nach den Bedingungen moderner kapitalistischer Gesellschaften auf.

Like the world outside – whether in Berlin, Houston, or LA – the scenes in Richard Hawkins’s recent paintings are in full bloom. As Bruce Hainley notes, his friend’s floral hues have come to feel Bonnard-esque, but Hawkins likes to contrast this flowery vitality with decay and a good dash of horror. In her last letter to Hainley, Annette Weisser highlighted how the handsome and oftentimes famous young men in Hawkins’s works appear zombie-like, as if caught in a limbo between their maker’s libidinous and murderous desires. Hainley’s reply adds a few new shades to Hawkins’s colorful compositions by loading them with possible references and associations.