In the exhibition Alte neue Sonne, Galerie Nina Mielcarczyk presents the works of artists Laurentius Sauer and Timur Lukas, who not only share a close friendship and studio, but also leave a common trace of the Romantic in their work. This romantic influence extends from the subjects of the paintings (it’s the vases, floral bouquets and dreamy vistas) to their stylistic influences and the oil sticks they produce together – it’s quite entrancing. But something is wrong. Something is stirring beneath the aesthetic security and stillness. ‘Can you paint a subject to death?’ – Timur Lukas
It begins with the screen, which forms the centrepiece of the exhibition space. This gives her partly graphic approaches (especially in Sauer’s work) an additional sculptural level, as an image in space. The resulting ‘false’ perspective invites us to take a closer look at the two sides and get to the bottom of the matter: The once splendidly depicted sunflower fields are barren and dried up, the hut, which at first appears cosy, turns out to be in decay at second glance. Decay, as a condition of growth, permeates both Sauer’s and Lukas‘ work and thus creates the underlying refraction of the other virtuosity. What is lost, what remains, what has not yet become ruins feeds the motifs of their works and also explains their shared focus on architecture. They see remnants of an apparatus that has already died, such as the villa in Lukas‘ aptly titled work “classic view”, which is inspired by Harald Juhnke’s recently demolished villa.
Lukas comments on this briefly in the preliminary discussion: ‘Little remains, soon everything has disappeared.’ This approach is reflected in Lukas‘ research method, for which he buys up masses of other people’s family archives and searches for motifs. He is interested in the precise composition of old photographs, how they repeat themselves and how intimate connections can be established with these strangers as he leafs through their lives. Historical influences can also be found in Sauer’s work, but he views them more critically. Abandoned barns, horses (the cowboys are certainly not far away), roosters, covered machines – all old symbols of male sovereignty. These are supplemented by short fragments of text which, in their combination, ask: How current are these symbols still and, more importantly, what has replaced them? It can be observed that Sauer examines the symbols of our life together, while Luke is concerned with their representation – the way in which they were/are depicted. Why is it always the vase of flowers by the window? What is the intrinsic attraction of the old representations of royalty? Why do some subjects never die out? In Old New Sun, Lukas and Sauer point out that the answer is much more sinister than perhaps assumed.
Text: Fredi Thiele
