The current KW exhibition cycle intends to reflect on history and reality through the process of image construction. With three individual exhibitions split across the building’s different floors – a heterogeneous way of looking at group exhibitions – the interlocutors Oraib Toukan, Peter Friedl and Rabih Mroué assemble what in a way looks like a forum. As a whole, the three shows work as a game of proximity and distance. At each moment, language’s visual permeability, the function of the gaze and the construction of the gaze are present; same way as the moment of editing, from innocence to manipulation, conceiving in each personal story a political story.
Sill, the first impact is sound. On the ground floor, the entrance leads to a room where Friedl’s many diaries are displayed in a case, meticulously arranged, with measured distances between them, sealed. Behind, there is a huge pink flag of the Kurdistan Workers’ Party, collages, low light. Meanwhile, to the left, in one of the corridors, hundreds of photographs of playgrounds around the world are projected sequentially on the wall. On the other side, a room is filled with several stuffed animals that seem abandoned on the floor. In the adjoining room, a video shows a poem being read to an audience of children. Loud, frantic: “they thought it was a monster, but it was the king.” Over and over again.
Moving on to a huge room – with lots of drawings, videos, photographs – the space continues to place questions over answers. On two huge walls there are two sets of undated drawings, from Friedl’s childhood to the present day, arranged in a scrambled fashion. Facing them are several display cases with newspaper photo clippings, without information or caption. There is also a stage at the back of the room. And there is always sound; loud, boisterous: “they thought it was a monster, but it was the king.” There is a staging, theatrical atmosphere, on the edge of fun. The concern to underline a childish perspective is obvious, a certain naivety between the gaze and the image.
At the same time, the ongoing presence of violent references, images over sound that repeat the call, reinforces exhaustion as an important element. Friedl seems to leave us alone before a familiar problem: what reading can there be among the exhaustion of so many images? A reading that is more or less clear, that leads us or frees us from exhaustion? Seeing is also wanting, if we prioritise looking at what brings us closer? What space is left for that which pushes us away? How much of what we do not yet know are we willing to discover? How can we look fixedly at what pushes us away?