Kristina Schuldt
Bordstein
26 April – 25 May 2024
Opening during Gallery Weekend Berlin:
Friday, 26 April, 6 - 9 p.m.
Saturday, 27 April, 11 a.m. - 7 p.m.
Sunday, 28 April, 11 a.m. - 6 p.m.
Heike Geißler
Beloved Beings. Or: Who All Is Present
As if everyone I need were present. As if everyone were present whom I mean when I say: those whom I like. Those whom I really like. Whom I admire and with whom I feel when they deal with the world.
Kristina Schuldt’s pictures display and are a community, an eloquent troupe in profound exchange with each other, and in addition the simultaneity of thinking, consequences, correction, chaos, weeping, panic, and wit.
Yes, if you please, I’ve made a running start into the center of a pictorial world and will not voluntarily emerge from it again.
The picture, each one a complot with the world as it should be and against the world as it is. A unification in the tumult of the present, no shoddy compromise. Here, everything can be rescued, here everything will soon be rescued, here there is no lack of sites and sense of possibility. Here a process is in motion, one that will come out in my favor, or in my favor but not in favor of all those whom, for so many reasons, I can no longer trust and whom I can’t name here, not the reasons, not the people; the pictures are tired of you. The pictures call out: this here isn’t about you! Those who are meant hear that now or later.
The pictures call out: don’t let yourself be distracted!
The pictures, which know about every smash-up and every hostility, because they are knowing pictures and are made entirely of world, of everything unbearable; these pictures stretch themselves out and stretch out those who let themselves be stretched, into a specific time and in the highest concentration. Here, everything impossible is thrown forward with decisive power and quiet noise, in order to escape the imposition of a standstill and every asserted stability. The pictures point far beyond themselves, thereby eradicating themselves, and transport themselves and me into a state of stillness and great concentration: it is a moment in a call, in a step, before an end, shortly after a beginning.
This gift of placing stillness within the greatest clamor. The elongation of all moments, so that time arises, and with it: ideas and connection.
Beloved beings, we are present at the same time.
Beloved beings, in all times we are now.
The task that the storms had of keeping the roar apart from the still center, and how the still center arises from all roaring, and how, for the sake of stillness, the roar is essential. Now, beloved beings, we have long since known enough about opposites, how they produce each other, and how we must let go of some oppositions to move forward in all opposition. Here, therefore, tender bellowing. Here, raging love. Here, stomping legs.
The legs — so says Kristina Schuldt, who must know — stomp, they stomp to remember their power, they stomp because here and now that is an appropriately polite way of walking, and they process the curbs and, starting from there, all regions beyond the limits of the days and bad news.
What we see is a demonstration. This is a rally.
What is proclaimed is: noise, departure, accident, devouring, vomiting, desire, revolt, the urge to speak, reorganization. Each element of a picture rebels against every other context and desires to be nowhere else but here.
And I swear: here is a new form of vomiting. The pictures remove ugliness from the world and they vomit because of the extensive ugliness and for all the other reasons, but they vomit in such a way that something emerges that can remain, because it is good and we have our intelligent, stirred up, nonnegotiable pleasure in them.
