Galerie Hubert Winter

Sarah Pichlkostner
29. April – 17. June 2022
Der Wind schüttelte die Bäume, und bald verdeckten, bald enthüllten die schwankenden Äste das Licht.
Und wogend streifte der Schein des Vollmonds die drei.
„Der Mond ist aufgegangen“, flüsterte Sentaro dem kleinen Kirschbaum zu.
Die letzten Zeilen. In: Durian Sukegawa, Kirschblüten und rote Bohnen. Roman. Dt. v. U. Gräfe. Köln, DuMont, 2016

Fill a hole with an Eye—not an I

Sunset on a pebbles beach. And if I am honest the sun will go up over there.
I approach the search, the finding, the missing, the noticing of the present and the absent;
the filling of the no-longer-present, or the have-not-happened.

Klack, klack as waves are hitting the shore.

If every hard stone would be a possibility, within it weighting the consequences.
I found one with a hole.
The process which leads to that shape is not a visible one,
but it can be recognized after completion by the hole (or by the signifier O).

I can’t see the difference between the sea and the sky. It’s misty.
Historically, water and its still surface served us as a mirror.
Signifier O is our time, and its asking.
Heavy eyes, broken stones.

I wanted to create a space or a setting in which time unfolds a precious moment between the opposites of time pressure and on the other hand time’s endlessness, acting as a hideaway—a space of tensions, in order to ask where are as beings, where are we standing?

The title of the exhibition inundate is ambiguous—in a physical sense it designates the water-flooding of areas, on the other hand it refers to the mental situation in which something is too much to handle.

Both at entering and leaving the space you will be faced by a repeatedly winking eye—hope and resignation?

Note: viewing and recognition form the basis of understanding, and can therefore be the breeding ground for change. The process as a metaphor, stands as signifier O (for Our Times) and is asking me/us what must happen to change conditions, to loosen rigid structures.

The sculptures or characters—as I prefer to call them—in the space resemble different kinds of rib cages and pendula.

One hanging vertical the other standing horizontal on a spike of brass. In its material you can see the reflection of the standby mode of a projector—not knowing if something has started or has ended.

Every stone glass bubble is a possibility and over time there were many possibilities, keeping or loosing the tension.

The wall pieces remind one of tools to measure time.

When material is brought to an object, i.e. is made into one, and the function of this object is continuously developing over time, then the object is ultimately reflecting us.

The water fountain looks like it would leak or overspill, the surface of the water—it contains the tension and it breaks.

Water is a key for my work due to its possibilities of change. It adapts form and reflects at the same time.

Note: historically, water and its still surface also served us as the first mirror. As a material water also stands for self-reflection.

Every material I used in the exhibition—water, aluminium, brass, glass, silver, screens, stones found on the shore—has something to do with reflecting or mirror us physically or mentally (similar to the title).

—Sarah Pichlkostner

    Wiener Zeitung, May 11, 2022: Ein Tropfen Zeit by Claudia Aigner