On Trickling Away
Concepts of Time in Contemporary Art

Perception and Comprehension in Photography

Ingo Mittelstaedt (b. 1978, Berlin; lives and works in Berlin and Hamburg) creates staged photographs, combining and contrasting them with diverse objects in expansive installations. His pictorial arrangements probe a variety of concerns and imageries that he sources from museum settings or the modes of representation in ordinary advertising brochures. Gestures of showing, pointing, bringing out, and uncovering are leitmotifs in Mittelstaedt’s canny and subtly humorous exploration of the potentials and limitations of the photographic medium.

Ingo Mittelstaedt studied fine arts at the Hochschule für Bildende Künste Braunschweig and received numerous emerging-artist awards, including the New York fellowship of the Niedersächsische Sparkassenstiftung. His work has been shown at Kunstverein Hannover, the Wilhelm-Hack-Museum, Ludwigshafen, Marta Herford, and elsewhere.

The mystery of love and its language, translated into a photographic discourse

The starting point for the series by Anaïs Horn, which the artist, who works in Vienna and Paris, began in 2013 and now comprises eighty photographs, is the book Fragments d’un discours amoureux (Fragments of a Language of Love) by the French philosopher and author Roland Barthes. Terms such as “asceticism,” “magic,” “yearning,” “venerable,” and “unfathomable” serve Horn as models for her staged photographs. The linguistic “figures,” from which Barthes developed his “discourse” in an open structure, find their counterparts in views of people, landscapes, objects, and spaces. The result is a cosmos of images that is as non-binding as it is intimate, as touching as it is light, as vulnerable as it is challenging, and appears to be infinitely expandable. Viewed together, fragments of collective experiences and cultural codes of our notions of love become visible.

The Mülheim-Kärlich Nuclear Power Station, 1975–2019

In 1975, construction began in Mülheim-Kärlich on what was to be the only nuclear power plant in the state of Rhineland-Palatinate. After numerous court battles and only two years of trial and regular operation, the plant was decommissioned in 1988 and dismantled starting in 2001. The 530-foot cooling tower, taller than Cologne Cathedral, was the point of reference, landmark, and eyesore of an entire region; its time-consuming demolition became a symbol of the perennial political polarization over the decision to phase out nuclear power.

Michael Bertram (b. Mendig, 1968; lives and works in Mayen) took photographs of the reactor looming between homes and factories in order to record the future past in pictures. The plant cost seven billion deutschmarks to build and one billion euros to take back down: vast resources expended on a temporary installation that lasted forty years and left a lasting mark on the landscape, the surrounding communities, and the people who lived in its shadow. Starting with the demolition, the book presents an inverted timeline in eighty-one black-and-white photographs. The object seems to rise before our eyes until, at the end of the series, five color photographs conjure up a past that was very much present only a moment ago—a singular document of Germany’s industrial heritage.