Lemmata
Maja Behrmann
January 15 – March 7, 2026
Opening: Thursday, January 15, 5 – 8pm
The Berlin gallery is not barrier-free. But please feel free to call ahead at +49-30-2806605 and we are happy to assist you, so that it will be possible for you to enjoy the show.
Sharpening, pointing the tool. Changing the blade. Change of position. Changing my position. Threading, stringing together. Not new; transformed. Calibrating, regrouping.
(Against) wanting to classify. Rotating to find orientation in the explanation gap.
A set piece is movable and can be transferred, can therefore be integrated from an existing context into a new one.
Flexibility, re-use, correction.
Filling voids with other material to create a stable base.
Oxford Languages says:
“In lexicography and linguistics, the lemma is the basic form of a word, i.e. the one word form under which you can find a term in a reference work.” Likewise: “In Mathematics and Logic auxiliary sentence. One generally smaller, proven statement used to prove a larger statement.”
I rewrite my to-do list every day, I actually copy it. Few items can be checked off, new ones are added, and sub-items emerge from the existing ones. Subtle complexities interweave.
No re-arranging—sorting out is essential, practically constantly. Otherwise I cannot have an overview of the accumulated as a collection. There is no question this could be considered an archive.
A loose snippet may capture a loose idea materially, but it doesn’t render the project less volatile. At least it allows its sorting to be postponed and gives an apology for the non-processing. By the time a wickerwork is knotted, the next debutants are already piling up to the left.
To the right as well, but I don’t look in all directions at the same time. I can hold my flat hand in front of my temple, shield myself and turn to the other side. At least the extent of the growing stack is not visible then.
What is outside of our field of vision receives less attention.
However, I can perceive it—between sound and feeling. I can feel a figure behind me. Even without eyes in the back of my head.
Identical screenshots and files pile up. Yes, even in several places, in several boxes and digital folders. And yes, at the same time, too. Often even named the same, just as often named differently. This way I have certainty and can meet them again on different routes.
Emptying the trash, like digital airing out. I can clear space by exchanging air.
But here, too, it is only a focus on a section. Air exchange already says it: exchange, not dissolution. Only the crumpled file is really dissolved.
I can’t let an overflow of options and material in my brain and gut pass by noticeably. I can practice and celebrate this: open the window and blow it outside. But the fact that something has been dragged out, only I can attest that to myself, acknowledge it mindfully.
Everything is flat in the Online Collection. Pleasing and at the same time multiplied input when illustrations are made available from multiple angles.
Large collection—small cabinet; functional space and presentation at the same time.
As I click and browse, I notice how much work people have already put in. And yet, the entries are like stenciled classifications. Overcompensation in order to cope with overstimulation.
What I know I can nurture; I can protect it and preserve it, I can wish to keep it close to me.
The familiarity makes it precious. Invariabilities become islands of rest; variations promise an overcoming of the surf.
“If it was important, you’ll remember it.”
HelloBetter says:
Consolation: To calm the worry of having forgotten something important.
Cognitive relief: Relieve the load on the working memory by conveying the assumption that the brain will retrieve the information when needed.
Area of application: Suitable for situations in which you feel overwhelmed and cannot remember everything at once, for example when stressed or flooded with information.
Method: Writing down thoughts relieves the brain and allows you to find important information more easily.
These are not sketches or studies. These are acquaintances.
Everything between automated decision-making and weary doubting.
Just now it is a magical garden. Interwoven tendrils, not filing. They find each other, complement each other, turning into an urge for action. Busyness (albeit hectic) and zeal make shiny pearls bubble up.
What might first appear as –– will, in fact, turn out to be something else entirely.
What even are valid formulations when everything is variable. And more than that, modifiable.
Sensitive objects. Can be, can become. Everything pretty contrived. What holds me together, what keeps me from resigning.
Maja Behrmann
Translation by Hagen Hamm