Claudia Sarnthein

An Jacob

Portfolio of 9 prints, Ed. of 3, 44 x 32 cm, 2007, published by BOX Berlin

An Jacob Cover An Jacob Print 1/9

'The potency of Claudia Sarnthein's "An Jacob" comes from her treatment of the found images, as she spoils and simultaneously transcends them. The three directives from the accompanying textbook "Lache Nicht/Weine Nicht/Zeige Deine Zähne Nicht" (Don't laugh/Don't cry/Don't show your teeth) are, it seems, complemented by a fourth: Mache dir kein Bild (Don't be in awe of the image). A subversive impulse runs through this series of nine prints. The more iconographic and familiar the media images she uses, the more likely they are to be brought closer to destruction - ground down by rampant pixels, cut into white and blackened with bars. The rougher and more tactile the source images, the more their original state is preserved ‚shielded behind gauze or soothed by the density of fur.'
Birgit Griesecke, BOX Berlin, 2007

Lache nicht / Weine nicht / Zeige Deine Zähne nicht

Text, soft cover, Ed. of 50, 19 x 15 cm, 2007, published by BOX Berlin

Lache nicht / Weine nicht / Zeige Deine Zähne nicht Cover Lache nicht / Weine nicht / Zeige Deine Zähne nicht DS / LacheNicht

'Three directives form the title of the textbook which accompanies the picture series "An Jacob": Lache nicht/Weine nicht/Zeige deine Zähne nicht (Don't laugh/Don't cry/Don't show your teeth) - an appeal, in order to overcome an intense pain by concealing oneself from 'the other'. The four parts of this book contain text-based images, which bear witness to the relentless process of silent valediction.' Birgit Griesecke, BOX Berlin, 2007

Mutter Seelen Allein

26 drawings, hardcover/clothbound with slipcase, Ed. of 6, 42 x 30 cm, 2005, London

Mutter Seelen Allein Cover Mutter Seelen Allein Double Page

'The sense of the partial, and its complexity, also suffuses the exquisite drawings of "Mutter Seelen Allein", a large-format publication of 26 images, very finely executed, and influenced by the likes of Eva Hesse (...). At once anti-realist, deeply felt and emotionally resonant, they are, in the artist's own words, 'in search of a pictorial incident, where something is just appearing or about to disappear: something which is coming into being against the void or leaving a void behind. I am asking how much is necessary to be nascent or to remain.' An urgent question in these difficult times, and one that is profoundly elaborated in Sarnthein's beautiful realised work'. Gareth Evans, Time Out, London 2005

On Fragments

Text, with 1 signed print, soft cover, Ed. of 8, 24 x 18 cm, 2004, London

On Fragments Cover On Fragments Single print On Fragments Page 7

'In "On Fragments" Sarnthein assembles an often revelatory series of quotations from European artists, philosophers and poets into an argument around the multi-faceted nature of the fragmentary that moves far beyond purely aesthetic investigation into something of much wider application. The question she asks is how an engaged understanding of the 'incomplete', an accurate incarnation of the passage of life, might help us to survive, endure and thrive. While the form might suggest the aphoristic compendia of fellow continentals Cioran and Canetti, this collage is humanised by its inclusivity and anchored by a richly personal threaded narrative that suggests Sarnthein has learnt such lessons very much at first hand.' Gareth Evans, Time Out, London 2005

Field

Series of 200 photographs, 1 signed print, soft cover, Ed. of 20, 30 x 14 cm, 2001, London

Field Cover Field Single print

'But while I am curating these events, I note clearly moments of standstill, natural halts in continuity. Things suddenly settle down into an interim plan: as if, for a while, they agree to pause in their work before moving on again. This is the moment when I take a picture. I record the instant of stillness before the process resumes. The bird's-eye view of the table enables me to examine the composition of the manifold modes of order, but it is my working pattern which composes the layout of the images. Looking back at the chronology of these frozen interruptions, I wonder if the now linear series has captured something of the complex, invisible network behind the orders. And does the sequence contain references to yet unknown projects? Furthermore, how large are the intervals between the stills, what has happened in between, and what exactly has changed from photograph to photograph? In retrospect, the chain of images has become a series of fragments more than a picture-story. The longer I look at it, the more it conceals. Even more so for the viewer, for whom this foreign order remains an unknown territory.' Claudia Sarnthein, London 2001