topical

On the occasion of another sojourn, this one in France, we were brought together by the path of St. James’ pilgrimage, which, at the time, occupied her; movement and path came together and led, in 2003, to a joint exhibition with Regina Bode in the Hamburg Gallery “Kunststueck”, at the opening of which I had the pleasure of representing the artist who was already living in Conakry. The opening of the joint exhibition was marked by a joint-reading: texts from Paulo Coelho and Herman Hesse. The exhibition was meaningfully titled: Path<>Signage.
At this exhibition here in New Strelitz, as we move through this space, let us seek the path that is marked with symbols. I wouldn’t presume to undermine anyone’s viewing experience. Rather, I shall sketch for you my own perceptions. Perhaps this will help you along your own way.
Red and blue, in shades, from the almost opaque to the pastel, fill the first room, a room that shows boats almost exclusively – as do a great part of the 51 works that Karin is exhibiting. If I’ve counted correctly, boats turn up in fully 28 of the pictures. But luckily, Karin is no marine painter. The boat motif is varied in countless shapes, colors and moods. The boats appear as shapes, as a dynamic motif and are not naively detailed. And so that we don’t lose our path, we find here, as in all other rooms in the exhibition, a sign that refers to that which awaits us, namely, the aluminum piece that gives this exhibition its name: Immeasurability.
And so that we do not lose our way later on, boats will appear again and again. One of these compositions from the first room, one that is blue and heavy, accompanies as we make our way towards the abstractions.
First, however, as we’ve passed through the door into the next room, we must change our point of view. The first pictures were as we would expect paintings to be: a motif, varied, upon white paper. Now, from full layers of color, motifs are pulled out, scratched, laid bare. This is true, in any case, for the aluminum pieces. But even in the more recently completed works of carbon and watercolors, the motifs seem to work their way out through the surfaces.
Let’s continue into the next room, the one full of abstractions. Here, we must take a step further, namely, to step behind the color. One small aluminum piece, (Catalogue Number 27) is small and seemingly unremarkable in comparison to the large-format works Air, Earth and Water, but it manages to sharpen our view. One clearly sees infinitely many steps and layers that have found a rather remarkable stillness in the completed object. And so it is with the larger pieces: at first almost monochrome with a few “errors” or spots, one begins to recognize a whole world beneath the surface. The observer regrets not having the necessary walls for such pieces….
A digression regarding the exhibition space: when I speak of “rooms”, I do not speak of closed units, but rather of a multiplicity of areas. Arising from the needs of the former industrial processes in this factory, these areas offer the possibility of being structured, but are left small so one can see in and through them; they are penetrable. In the end, this is the perfect place to hang the works in this exhibit, which in a seemingly closed circle, always point towards the works to come or refer back to works already seen. All “rooms” are connected and interlocked with one another.
Even in the room with the abstractions, three smaller pieces that are hung together refer to a truly separated room, the adjacent gallery where the landscapes are. After the boats and the abstractions, these pieces build the third focal point of this exhibition. Hung here are also the most recent works from 2008.

Grace is achieved when all that is superfluous has been laid aside and a man has discovered simplicity and concentration: a demeanor is more beautiful when it is simpler and more parsimonious.

The landscapes depict the highest form of grace since, though of few carbon strokes, sometimes supported with a tender, almost blurred brown (and once even with a powerful red) there arise whole neighborhoods of trees, hills, streets and lakes. Through the way they are put together, few and simple strokes allow whole landscapes to emerge. Here, the circle is closed. These ingenious reductions are referred to by “Immeasurability” from the first room, which, with thirteen or fourteen strokes, only diagonal or vertical, embracing foreground, middle-ground and background, succeeds in evoking within the observer an infinite glimpse.
After this room of landscapes, one must move a couple of steps back since, shortly before leaving the former factory floor, the African experiences flash up twice. A strictly graphic glance reveals two vertical adjacent and ordered sets of triplets. These triplets reveal themselves, upon closer inspection, to be immensely proud and upright Guinean women walking with (not entirely distinguishable) headdresses, or other burdens, upon their heads.
Right at the end, after the landscapes, something becomes noticeable, something that accompanied the viewer up the stairs towards the first floor, but was not perceptible due to its proximity: it is the most beautiful of the large, monochromatic pieces: Fire. In the abstraction room, there were only three works: Earth, Water and Air. Here, then, is the closure and the new beginning: fire, whose intense glow engulfs the viewer only after a period of reflection because the viewer must, as with the other elements, first pierce through color itself to come to the fire.
Many works in the smallest of spaces – this requires much from the viewer. However, it is clear that each picture, in relation to the others, has its spot; in relation to the not-so-simple space, has its place. Not just a bunch of pictures – an exhibition, as it should be!
From Karin’s favorite author, I shall now switch to my own, Jean Paul: The world is full of signs and markings; one must simply learn to read them.


	Immeasurability Laudation at the exhibition opening on March 15, 2008 at the “Old Tile Factory” in New Strelitz On artist Karin Camara’s website, one finds the remark that she always begins with the theme of “movement.” This notion, and that of the path with its accompanying signage, shall serve as a guide through this exhibition. One side remark: I got to know Karin at the beginning of this millennium through movement and not through painting; specifically, through Salsa dancing. And just so old (or new) are the paintings and objects that she’s exhibited: pieces dated from 2001 along with totally new work from this (still new) year are here to see. Now a bit of biographical detail: Karin was born in 1969 in New Brandenburg, has lived in Lapitz (a bit north from where she was born) since 1993, has been a freelance artist since 1996 and spent a year, 2003, in Africa ( Conakry , Guinea to be precise), which has turned out to be important for both herself and her work. When one approaches a goal, it is of the utmost importance, that one pay attention to the path towards it. The path teaches us how best to approach the goal and enriches us as we leave it behind. On the occasion of another sojourn, this one in France, we were brought together by the path of St. James’ pilgrimage, which, at the time, occupied her; movement and path came together and led, in 2003, to a joint exhibition with Regina Bode in the Hamburg Gallery “Kunststueck”, at the opening of which I had the pleasure of representing the artist who was already living in Conakry. The opening of the joint exhibition was marked by a joint-reading: texts from Paulo Coelho and Herman Hesse. The exhibition was meaningfully titled: Path<>Signage. At this exhibition here in New Strelitz, as we move through this space, let us seek the path that is marked with symbols. I wouldn’t presume to undermine anyone’s viewing experience. Rather, I shall sketch for you my own perceptions. Perhaps this will help you along your own way. Red and blue, in shades, from the almost opaque to the pastel, fill the first room, a room that shows boats almost exclusively – as do a great part of the 51 works that Karin is exhibiting. If I’ve counted correctly, boats turn up in fully 28 of the pictures. But luckily, Karin is no marine painter. The boat motif is varied in countless shapes, colors and moods. The boats appear as shapes, as a dynamic motif and are not naively detailed. And so that we don’t lose our path, we find here, as in all other rooms in the exhibition, a sign that refers to that which awaits us, namely, the aluminum piece that gives this exhibition its name: Immeasurability. And so that we do not lose our way later on, boats will appear again and again. One of these compositions from the first room, one that is blue and heavy, accompanies as we make our way towards the abstractions. First, however, as we’ve passed through the door into the next room, we must change our point of view. The first pictures were as we would expect paintings to be: a motif, varied, upon white paper. Now, from full layers of color, motifs are pulled out, scratched, laid bare. This is true, in any case, for the aluminum pieces. But even in the more recently completed works of carbon and watercolors, the motifs seem to work their way out through the surfaces. Let’s continue into the next room, the one full of abstractions. Here, we must take a step further, namely, to step behind the color. One small aluminum piece, (Catalogue Number 27) is small and seemingly unremarkable in comparison to the large-format works Air, Earth and Water, but it manages to sharpen our view. One clearly sees infinitely many steps and layers that have found a rather remarkable stillness in the completed object. And so it is with the larger pieces: at first almost monochrome with a few “errors” or spots, one begins to recognize a whole world beneath the surface. The observer regrets not having the necessary walls for such pieces…. A digression regarding the exhibition space: when I speak of “rooms”, I do not speak of closed units, but rather of a multiplicity of areas. Arising from the needs of the former industrial processes in this factory, these areas offer the possibility of being structured, but are left small so one can see in and through them; they are penetrable. In the end, this is the perfect place to hang the works in this exhibit, which in a seemingly closed circle, always point towards the works to come or refer back to works already seen. All “rooms” are connected and interlocked with one another. Even in the room with the abstractions, three smaller pieces that are hung together refer to a truly separated room, the adjacent gallery where the landscapes are. After the boats and the abstractions, these pieces build the third focal point of this exhibition. Hung here are also the most recent works from 2008. Grace is achieved when all that is superfluous has been laid aside and a man has discovered simplicity and concentration: a demeanor is more beautiful when it is simpler and more parsimonious. The landscapes depict the highest form of grace since, though of few carbon strokes, sometimes supported with a tender, almost blurred brown (and once even with a powerful red) there arise whole neighborhoods of trees, hills, streets and lakes. Through the way they are put together, few and simple strokes allow whole landscapes to emerge. Here, the circle is closed. These ingenious reductions are referred to by “Immeasurability” from the first room, which, with thirteen or fourteen strokes, only diagonal or vertical, embracing foreground, middle-ground and background, succeeds in evoking within the observer an infinite glimpse. After this room of landscapes, one must move a couple of steps back since, shortly before leaving the former factory floor, the African experiences flash up twice. A strictly graphic glance reveals two vertical adjacent and ordered sets of triplets. These triplets reveal themselves, upon closer inspection, to be immensely proud and upright Guinean women walking with (not entirely distinguishable) headdresses, or other burdens, upon their heads. Right at the end, after the landscapes, something becomes noticeable, something that accompanied the viewer up the stairs towards the first floor, but was not perceptible due to its proximity: it is the most beautiful of the large, monochromatic pieces: Fire. In the abstraction room, there were only three works: Earth, Water and Air. Here, then, is the closure and the new beginning: fire, whose intense glow engulfs the viewer only after a period of reflection because the viewer must, as with the other elements, first pierce through color itself to come to the fire. Many works in the smallest of spaces – this requires much from the viewer. However, it is clear that each picture, in relation to the others, has its spot; in relation to the not-so-simple space, has its place. Not just a bunch of pictures – an exhibition, as it should be! From Karin’s favorite author, I shall now switch to my own, Jean Paul: The world is full of signs and markings; one must simply learn to read them. back to current