Bernhart Schwenk
Detour to conclusion
The artwork of Yvonne Leinfelder
It was a white rabbit that intrigued the girl Alice and took her to wonderland in Lewis
Carroll’s renowned book, “Alice in wonderland”, 1865. Alice entered the rabbit’s den
and discovered an absent-minded reality – a reality different to the only one she
knew. What seemed big before was small here. What seemed to be dangerous
emerged as safe and vice versa.
“In wonderland everything is contrary”, reported Alice to her cat Dinah when she
returned. One could say that nothing seems like it appears straight away.
As in Lewis Carroll’s book it is a white rabbit that plays the leading role In Yvonne
Leinfelder’s video “Yoma”. Almost half of the principally dark screen is occupied by
the innocent white silhouette of the little animal with its big dark eye looking truthfully
on the beholder. The rabbit jerks and sometimes seems to turn away when
background voices and rumours randomly collide and grow louder. It would seem
that the occurring drama is somehow reflected in its little face. Certainly this is sheer
projection, but perfectly observed at the same time.
Carroll’s “Wonderland” and “Yoma” ask the same question: what is the true meaning
of the rabbit’s role? Is it really the protagonist of the events or is it in fact a catalyst for
the events, a medium perhaps? Doesn’t the real and proper meaning have an effect
on another level?
In “Yoma” the answer is obvious. The set of the noisy event surprisingly turns out as
the dark and circular iris of the rabbit. Here reflects the plot of a second film, with fast
cuts, strong colour contrast reduced to a minimum and all displayed in a natural
convex shape. While Carroll’s rabbit renders the adventure of Alice possible, the
rabbit in “Yoma” is the medium for the access into another reality. For the beholder
the rabbit’s eye is not an organ of sight anymore, but turns into an instrument of
image formation. It forces the viewer’s habitual seeing to change, while the reflection
becomes the base for a new perception. The detouring glance leads to a new
conclusion.
Like in Plato’s Cave Allegory the angle of the beholder is fixed, he is standing with his
back to the light source, believing that the origin of all images are obtained from
there. For Plato every sensuously perceivable object is only a bare copy of an
original image. Whatever we see, it is always an imperfect and indirect extraction
from a picture, the shadow of a world which for the ancient philosopher represents
the true and genuine world. So the only possible path to approach the non-visible is
to gaze at the dimly lit wall of the Cave.
In “Yoma” the rabbit’s coat is the path which gradually leads to a vague
understanding of what is happening. In addition, the scattered light reflecting richly on
the dazzling whiteness of the coat and suggesting different impressions has
importance. The iris is the first perceptive level and the second is the surface with its
different screen and colour changes that the eye of the beholder digests willingly. It is
also the indicator for mood changes, motion and dramatic art.
“Yoma” is the title of Yvonne Leinfelder’s video. “Yoma” is also the name of the
Japanese animated cartoon that the beholder can circuitously see and hear – a so
called “Animé”. Often, “Animés” originate from drawn “Mangas” that literally
translated means “unreliable pictures”. Leinfelder’s “Yoma” also contains image
levels that are “unreliable” or oddly complex. The sensory perception gives only a
vague explanation of what is going on, but exactly this is the new and unique quality
of images. It’s an individual imagination.
Unlike the extremely impermanent cartoon reflecting in the rabbit’s eye the camera
position is permanent. The video is neutral, uncut and done without any
manipulation. This apparent objective time level is combined with nested and
dramatised episodes of the cartoon and shows (within the parallel conducted
narration) the fictional qualities of a documentary as well as a reliable artificiality.
Here, the light has a pivotal function, because it’s not important which object is
apparent, but in what light it appears.
As in “Leazes Park”, a former video of Yvonne Leinfelder, where light and time have
the main function. The scene shows a lawn with trees on an evening in spring and is
composed like a classic landscape tableau, but at the same time the colours seem to
refer to the principles of painting. In “Yoma” the medium of film is placed “against the
rules” to display a freeze frame – but not really; the picture is changing very slowly, to
some extent in real time. The darkness declines on the lawn, before one by one of
the violet lamps along a way turn on. Quiet rumours accompany the suggestive
picture of an otherwise pacific stillness. Now and again you hear a bird and the
rustling of leaves. A strange crackling and a rhythmic mill irritates the viewer, but
during the film the secret of this rumour gets disclosed: it is a grass-eating cow on the
right of the picture, remains standing and then looking into the camera. Out of this
looking grows a feeling (for the beholder) of “being recognized”. It’s almost an odd
feeling of mutual identification. Therefore, the cow resembles the classic reflection
figure used in art since the Renaissance to merge the sphere of the picture with
reality. In this fashion, the look of the beholder on the picture and the look in the
mirror is equivalent.
Ultimately the unexpected appearance of the cow raises the question of how much in
this film is produced and how much is coincidental. A simple view on the video won’t
explain that plainly. But also in this case it’s to suppose that the “plot” is a complex
netting of artificiality and naturalness where the real, unreal, unaltered and the
manipulated is indistinguishable.
For centuries the symbolism of light and darkness determined the process that
measured the development status of the cultures. Called “Enlightenment”, this
process took root in the philosophy of the Renaissance and peaked out in the
cogitations around 1800. Only the 20th century began to doubt the unambiguousness
of the term and to focus its dialectics. The critical analysis of the modern social
circumstances was enriched by metaphors like dusk and eclipse. Consequently, in
“Leazes Park” the constant decrease of the natural light and the simultaneously
increase of the artificial light is metaphorical. However, the clear contrast between
darkness and elucidation, presumption and conclusion, expectation and
disappointment starts to fade. This polyvalent, post-modern exposure to the light and
its imagery is present in another artwork of Yvonne Leinfelder where the perceptive
scene is reduced to a section – a horizontal “slit”, as the title of this video bluntly
states.
It is dark, the view is obstructed and the scenario is impenetrable and unpredictable.
No wonder the first associations of the beholder relate to objective, non illusive
phenomena, or, for example, the line on a cardiograph. It could be also compared to
effects (defective effects) of a fragmented row or to experimental films of the 60ies.
But in “slit”, like in mostly all artworks of Yvonne Leinfelder, the honest voyeuristic
view is captured on film as it develops and becomes the foundation. The rumours in
the background show that the slit is actually a margin wall on a motorway where,
through its opening, the light from headlights of cars quickly passing by enters.
Nevertheless, other light effects remain enigmatic and a satisfying explanation for
them will possibly be missing.
The imaginary world of Yvonne Leinfelder seems withdrawn from everything that is
familiar. Sometimes the beholder feels like he is put in the “land behind the mirrors” in
which Lewis Carroll sends his Alice on her second journey to show her how it is when
the known order of space and time is put up-side-down. But in this hermetical parallel
world there are always signs that guide you back to the alleged first world – like
Ariadne’s Thread.
This brings us to the latest artwork of Yvonne Leinfelder, the photo, entitled “Ferrari”.
In an almost mystical way the sports car of all longings is presented in its legendary
red. The eye is seduced to the sphere of the elegant luxury and perfectly shining
surface and gets high on speed fantasies. Only the red rims anticipate that this
impression could be faked. The picture or its fabulous colour is a false impression
and leads the beholder up the garden path.
Nonetheless, this is no digital manipulation – as in Yvonne Leinfelder’s early photo
serial “Häuser und Pferde” (“Houses and Horses”), where she makes windows and
animals disappear. The charisma of the ‘red’ car is based on a completely analogue
trick. The actual colour of the Ferrari is silver, but the surrounding lighting is red and
impregnates the complete scenario and engrosses it in a very simple way. Although
knowing this, the picture is suddenly unreliable; the first world and Alice are no longer
the same, even after leaving the dark den of the white rabbit.
Bernhart Schwenk
1960 Born in Wiesbaden, Germany
1982 -1991 Studied Art History, History and Archaeology in Mainz, Cologne and Bonn.
1991- 1993 Research associate at Schirn Kunsthalle, Frankfurt am Main
1993 -2001 Curator at Haus der Kunst München
Since 2002 Conservator for Contemporary Art at Pinakothek der Moderne, München