Reports from Gallery Weekend 2024

by Marley Heltai // Apr. 30, 2024

This year, Berlin Gallery Weekend marks the start of spring in the city. The linden trees, which are finally fully in bloom, seem to vibrate with each gust of warm evening wind. All along Paul-Lincke-Ufer people are laughing and drinking beer, their legs dangling above the Spree. As I make my way to my first stop, Trautwein Herleth, I’m able to spot the gallery a block away, due to the crowd of people congregating outside and sipping free wine. Inside, the walls are blank and the lighting bright. Sung Tieu’s solo exhibition ‘Perfect Standard’ is on display. A thin wooden strip, no more than a few centimeters high, is fastened to the middle of the wall and runs the entirety of the main room. Close up, I see that the wooden bar is actually four separate variations of a piece called ‘The Ruling.’ The wood is marked by a grid of tiny squares, each meant to represent various statistics, such as Indochinese Rubber Company Groups or French and Total Population of Indochina. In the center of the room are 23 painted gas canisters, which I find out are all filled with gasoline, except for one which supposedly contains drugs. While this unexpected piece of information adds an interesting depth to the piece, most of the works in this exhibition struggle to stand on their own without the contextual description, informing us that the whole exhibition is a commentary on the exploitative relationship between measurement systems, colonialism and representation in French Indochina–present day Vietnam, Laos and Cambodia.

Sung Tieu: ‘The Ruling (Population of Indochina),’ 2023, two different woods, engraved, varnished, brackets // Courtesy of the artist and Trautwein Herleth, Berlin

I make my way next door to Kraupa-Tuskany Zeidler where Alex Carver’s vivid large scale paintings are on view. His solo exhibition ‘Expanded Skin’ draws inspiration from two very different sources; biomedical imagery and Botticelli’s illustrations of Dante’s ‘Inferno.’ Each canvas looks as though it’s covered in a sheet of skin pulled taut and decorated with carefully-placed incisions. On some pieces, Carver adeptly painted it to appear as though the “skin” is unfurling around the edges of the canvas and is held in place with massive pieces of green painter’s tape. Amidst the medley of bright colors, one can spot bare asses reminiscent of Renaissance characters or the odd pair of legs splayed out in an impassioned kick. Amongst these figures are various surgical tools, painted in varying levels of opaqueness almost as though they are surfacing from below differing depths of water. Carver’s contrasting subject matter makes for an entirely unique and captivating exhibition, but I must go on. The next gallery on my list is Galerie Nordenhake.

Alex Carver: ‘Expanded Skin,’ 2024, Kraupa—Tuskany Zeidler, Berlin // Photo Marjorie Brunet Plaza, courtesy the artist; Kraupa—Tuskany Zeidler, Berlin

Here, Frida Orupabo’s ‘All is broken in the night’ transforms the space into a zone of contemplative reflection. The exhibition features collages, prints and sculptures. Orupabo’s work is centered on reimagining historical patterns of racism, sexism and oppression through archival imagery. Within each piece, it appears as though the subject is staring directly back at us. One such piece—a digital collage titled ‘Sickbed I’—features a woman lying stiffly on a large bed. The black and white print looks as though the colors have been inverted with the darkest parts now appearing the brightest white. The subject’s gaze is tired and strained; Orupabo’s portrayal of the concept of vigilant rest, a survival tactic in response to experiences of past trauma. On the ground, nearby visitors crouch around a stack of prints. I join them and together we sift through the hundreds of black and white photos. Closeup images of breasts and blurry contorted faces cover each sheet of paper. A friendly gallery worker encourages us to take as many as we want. I fill my bag with six selected prints and head back into the night air, to begin the three-block trek to my final destination.

Frida Orupabo: ‘All is broken in the night,‘ 2024, Galerie Nordenhake Berlin // Photo by Gerhard Kassner, courtesy of the artist and Galerie Nordenhake Berlin, Stockholm, Mexico City

Berlinische Galerie is the largest and only non-commercial gallery on my tour tonight. It’s evident in that it’s the only gallery so far that’s charging for wine. Undeterred however, I head inside where I immediately feel small amidst the two-story grandeur of the space. Kader Attia’s ‘J’Accuse’ features 17 (yes, I counted) wooden busts as well as several other sculptures also made of African wood. The sculptures depict soldiers from World War I, whose faces have been disfigured, known as “gueules cassées.” The busts, which stand only a few centimeters taller than the average person, are contorted and mutilated–faces missing eyes and have noses that go inward instead of out. Scattered between these figures are sculptures that resemble dismembered limbs, strewn about a battlefield. Juxtaposing the solemn, motionless sculptures, an anti-war film full of shouting voices and fast moving imagery is projected on the wall. Against the backdrop of the current war in Palestine, the exhibition felt all the more eerie and poignant. It served as a commentary on the enduring impact of war and the urgent need for peace and reconciliation.

Kader Attia: ‘J’Accuse,’ 2016 // © VG Bild-Kunst, Bonn 2024, Courtesy the artist and Galerie Nagel Draxler Berlin/ Köln/ München, © Photo by Power Plant Contemporary Art Gallery Toronto / Toni Hafkenscheid