Logan T. Sibrel
But I’m Different

In recent years, a Wagnerian night has settled over Brandon Lipchik’s (b. Erie, PA, 1993; lives and works in Brooklyn, NY, and Berlin) pictures. Moons rise; beasts and titans populate a homogeneous world of swimming pools, white picket fences, and neatly mowed lawns. Synthesized on a computer screen and then transferred to canvas by hand, the artist’s paintings revolve around the backyard as a mythically fraught scene of popular culture. The garishly lit multiperspectival pictures replicate characteristic shots from 1980s gay porn films and quote a clean American Apparel look. Lipchik subjects men’s bodies, spaces, plants, objects, and animals to digital deconstruction, obtaining rudimentary and abstract shapes. Staring at smartphones or gazing on water surfaces, his characters recall early digital animations and seem oddly hollow, like empty avatars waiting to be filled with new speculative content.

Ruth Wolf-Rehfeldt (b. Wurzen, Germany, 1932; lives in Berlin) is one the few East German female artists who devoted themselves to graphic art produced on the typewriter. Working on her trusty “Erika,” she arranged letters, digits, commas, and plus signs to compose imaginative visual creations. Under her hands, the black and red characters were transformed into poetic verbal images, gently undulating waves, serial patterns, and architectonic or figurative formations. Sometimes verging on concrete poetry, these typewritings also evince unmistakable affinities with conceptual and minimalist art. In the 1980s, the artist expanded on them in collages that recall Hannah Höch’s Dadaist visual montages. With her graphic work, Wolf-Rehfeldt was also an active participant in the GDR’s mail-art program: she sent the typewritings to artists beyond the impassable borders of her country, building an extensive network of correspondences that spanned the globe.

The richly illustrated monograph underscores the diversity and contemporary relevance of Wolf-Rehfeldt’s works, which were created in the shadow of the Cold War and address the fragility of peace as well as early manifestations of the environmental devastation wrought by the industrial age.

An artist paints the Kaddish

In roughly 330 self-portraits, Marion Anna Simon (b. 1972, Bitburg; lives and works in Cologne) dares to undertake an unusual transcription of Jewish prayer as a sign of mourning. On January 7, 2017, one day after the death of her mother, Marion Anna Simon began work on her painted Kaddish. What initially began as a very personal process of grieving quickly developed into an artistic concept: Roughly 330 painted and drawn self-portraits were created within eleven months—in daily notes, with acrylic and watercolor, pencil and ballpoint pen, oil crayon and pastel, on paper and canvas, wallpaper and cardboard, in lined exercise books and cheap notepads. Marion Anna Simon’s cycle explores her own face as a place of mourning and self-affirmation, documenting an artistic ritual beyond the Jewish prohibition of images and patriarchal attributions to sons in the tradition of the sanctification prayer for the memory of the dead.