Jochen Kienzle added his own chapter to the burgeoning number of Berlin’s collector-galleries last year. His mission is more specific than most: to draw attention to overlooked works from the 1960s, based on a belief that it’s not monetary value, but contribution to artistic discourse that makes art significant. Not sure about the second part of that.
This show is centred on photographer Josef Kramhöller, here cast as a Kafkaesque avatar of himself, while the city is a dirty smear behind a crystalline thumbprint. Not sure what the rest of the title means either, but suspect it has something to do with performance being the mode of exposition du jour as theory continues its bored cannibalization of each of the artistic disciplines and art faithfully vomits them back up.