Marion Anna Simon
Gemaltes Kaddisch

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.

A Comprehensive Overview on the tenth Anniversary of the Death of Martin Noël

Martin Noël (b. 1956, Berlin; d. 2010, Bonn) was a German painter, draftsman, and printmaker. He was one of the formative innovators of the long-neglected techniques of linocut and woodcut. With his large-format works on paper, he created a position for himself in contemporary art that is as much respected as it is independent. On the occasion of the tenth anniversary of the artist’s death, this volume presents a comprehensive overview of his work from the mid-1980s to the last year of his life in 2010. Thirty-five exceptional works document Noël’s path from his early years as a painter, via the middle phase marked by printing blocks, linocuts and woodcuts, up to his late paintings.

Martin Noël studied Graphics and Painting at the Rheinische Fachhochschule Köln, Cologne. His works are included in, among others, the Federal Collection of Contemporary Art, the Kunstsammlungen Chemnitz, and the collection of the Museum Pfalzgalerie Kaiserslautern.

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.