Stefan Nikolaev
dal 11/9/2009 al 9/10/2009
Segnalato da
11/9/2009
Stefan Nikolaev
Galerie Michel Rein, Paris
The objects of Nikolaev are just as diverse as history teaches us - from the heirlooms to the ATM, from the epergne to the monument of the comics' coyote. The artist is mixing reality and artificiality, he is transgressing the elitist hierarchies between objects and does not pay attention to their spheres of origin and production.
Object, Entity, Sculpture. His, Mine, Yours, Ours...
In his newest one-artist show Stefan Nikolaev is thinking exclusively through
objects. This might be quite natural - after all in the world of today objects ever
more tightly surround us. But it also might be because the object is one of the most
obvious ways to hold on to memories, to capture both the past and the fast changing
present, to involve our own selves with the above in a complex web of intertwined
moments. It is through objects that we usually explore the world, learn about
history, and imagine unknown circumstances. We often try to express feelings and
thoughts through objects, we transform them into symbols, and we invest them with
meanings and associations. We award prizes by giving objects, we use objects to
commemorate, and objects are also a fact of vanity. Until recently the propaganda of
the Marxist-Leninist philosophy was trying desperately to affirm the primacy of the
spiritual over the material culture - the latter is obviously winning now while
growing and expanding much faster than either our needs or desires. In the history
of art the world of objects has offered just as much inspiration to artists as, for
instance, the landscape or the human body. Take for example the wine glass in the
works of Willem Heda, the copper vessels of Chardin or the famous Ceci n'est pas une
pipe of René Magritte...
The objects of Stefan Nikolaev are just as diverse as history teaches us - from the
heirlooms to the ATM, from the epergne to the "monument" of the comics' coyote. The
artist is mixing reality and artificiality in the world of objects; he is
transgressing the elitist hierarchies between objects and does not pay attention to
their spheres of origin and production. For instance, one of the gigantic rings
titled "Nikola" (2009) is a copy of an actual piece of jewelry. It was on the finger
of an Orthodox priest, the great-grandfather of the artist, when he died in bed in
the hands of a young woman, not his wife. This slightly amusing (though with a
tragic ending) story has happened in a traditional Balkan society where people
prefer talking about the macho symbolism of the event rather than the specific
circumstances of life. Thus the ring grows in importance to the levels worthy of an
archaeological relic from an ancient epos. The materials used have similar
connotations - they look like coming from the Stone or the Iron Age, from the times
of heroes and titans!
Stefan Nikolaev is treating in a similar way, like a gigantic sculpture, another one
of his personal amulets, the ring of his great-grandmother - "Donka" (2009). It has
an even more aggressive character with its powerful chthonic roots holding the
stone. One is reminded of the myth about the origins of the ring - from a link of
the chain from which Prometheus was freed...
These huge "links" from the chain of family history would give a field day to a
semiotics expert - they provide vast spaces for reading into the gender relations in
the Bulgarian, Balkan society of the past, their current interpretation,
connotations and symbols that are springing up in the works of contemporary artists
almost subconsciously though quite persistently.
The human sculls that Stefan Nikolaev seems to be obsessed with - happen to become
fruit bowls - "What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Stronger. Fruit of the Loom" (2009),
and are projecting quite different aesthetical impulses. The porcelain's fragility,
the pure whiteness of the material, the exquisite forms and delicate gilding of the
objects - all these qualities could easily add up to a certain kind of "beauty" had
it not been for the reference to a bone (the term "bone porcelain" is still used for
the kind of material where bone ashes are mixed, though not human). Scientific
research maintains that the ability of our brain to recognize and distinguish faces
does not make us more "accustomed" to the sight of a skull. This is the reason why
for most people a skull is a direct reference to death - Vanitas, all is transitory,
all of us - too. Then why - the skull as a memento mori in the überdesigned life of
the contemporary human being? Or maybe this is a reference to the times of the
medieval Bulgarian Khan Krum (8 c. AD) who ordered a mug for wine to be carved out
of the skull of the Byzantine emperor Nikephoros Ist whom he defeated in battle?
Although within the European Union questions concerning national identity are not
always possible to settle through the copyright over ratatouille, for instance,
still the specifics of the national cuisine and table arrangements do remain
substantial. Maybe the porcelain skulls in the Stefan Nikolaev show are material
evidences for the "clan" memory?
If this is the case then we can surmise that the professional memory of the artist
is causing the appearance of the solid metal image of The Coyote (hero's details
here - Wile E. Coyote, the "bad guy" for The Road Runner. Both characters invented
by the animation director Chuck Jones for Warner Bros. are now over 60 years old) -
"I Hate America and America Hates Me" (2009). Quite naturally any coyote in an
exhibition room today will turn into a reincarnation of the famous roommate of
Joseph Beuys from his "I like America and America Likes Me" performance (1974).
Although Beuys managed to, formally, not set foot on the actual territory/ground of
America during the realization of the event - he had been driven by an ambulance
from the airport to the gallery and back, his performance has left an important mark
on the artistic life of the country.
The experience of Stefan Nikolaev is a polar opposite - born in Sofia, Bulgaria, he
has been living half of his life in Paris, France. It is possible that the
differences between these two territories have been vanishing lately. However, the
symbolic distance between the (still) brilliant cultural capital of the continent
and the (still) attractive and repulsive with its exoticism l'autre moitié de
l'Europe (as was the name of the first after the fall of the Berlin wall significant
show of Eastern European contemporary art in Paris in 2000), may not be neglected.
The artist is positioned between two cultures and traditions, two types of education
and languages. Yet he still manages to interpret those and to "translate" himself
into both languages while fixing his life impressions and consciously avoiding
either the simplistic symbolism or the narrative. His coyote, wrapped in the
recognizable felt blanket and shepherd's staff, has replaced the artist-guru and
exists in the space as an obvious question about the possibility of easy love from
first sight between the different kinds of collective experiences.
The most luxurious and precious object in the show, both in its material substance
and direct meaning, is "Cry Me a River" (2009). The ATM replica is a focal point of
the Stefan Nikolaev kind of cultural mix of iconoclasm and idolatry. It is not just
a humble readymade transported into the temple of art; nor is it a simple darling
little thing from everyday life though executed in a better material. It is not the
typical for pop-art "stretching" of formal means over new objects of desire either;
nor is its aesthetic shape the illusion for perfection of things that our memory
tends to produce.
The exact replica of an ATM galvanized with 24-carat gold is a shiny altar for the
cult that we cannot do without. The ironical title of the work should be seen,
according to the artist, as a comment on the yet unclear future of the bidirectional
dependence between the human and the machine; a comment on love and hate; on the
need for prosthesis; on the fear of the oracle and his predictions. Of course,
Oswald Spengler is right when claiming, "money is a category of thought". At the
same time it's impossible to forget the inspirational verbal bang of Fidel Castro:
"Capitalism is using its money; we socialists throw it away".
Iara Boubnova
August 2009
opening reception: 12.09.09, 16h-21h
Michel Rein
42 rue de Turenne - F-75003 Paris
Tuesday-Saturday 11am-7pm
Free admission