The Brooklyn Rail

Have you heard of the Villa Schöningen in Potsdam, a modest but beautiful exhibiting space, which lies about thirty minutes by car from the nexus of the art-scene in Berlin? Or are you familiar with the name Harald Falckenberg, to whom a remarkable show currently on view there is dedicated? Titled Antikstüchben Nachwort [Little Antique Parlor Afterword], it features not just forty-five highlights from the collection Falckenberg assembled from the mid-1990s until his death in 2023, but also an installation and film by Christian Jankowski. Both provide acute insights into what made this extraordinary man tick. Once a successful entrepreneur and lawyer, at about fifty Falckenberg decided to shift gears so as to devote himself to the art that had come to increasingly interest him: “It wasn’t the sublime and significant that was my thing, but subversive art that countered the missionary zeal of the prevailing political art of the time with irony, sarcasm and a good dose of punk.” Falckenberg went on to not only assemble more than 2,400 such works—primarily by American and German-speaking artists—but also to pen some of the most insightful texts ever written about Mike Kelley, Hanne Darboven, and Philip Guston, Paul Thek, and Otto Muehl, to name just a few. If his juristic background had taught him how to research and compile a case, then the editorial know-how of his wife Larissa Falckenberg helped him to argue his points in no-nonsense written terms. Meanwhile, Falckenberg had also fixed his sights on a 65,000 square foot former rubber factory in Hamburg-Harburg that he then eventually acquired and slowly had remodeled into a museum quality space. Ever since the Sammlung Falckenberg began to operate in 2001—initially with no set hours and free of charge—it has been devoted to a single mission: the presentation of works by an array of subversive artists in dialogue with those from the Falckenberg collection. So stimulating has been the series of exhibitions that unfolded that in 2011 the Sammlung Falckenberg became a part of the Deichtorhallen, where it remains on long-term loan until at least 2032.

Impressed by this, Mathias Döpfner, the owner and spiritus rectus of the Villa Schöningen, asked Falckenberg in 2010 to curate the first of what would become three exhibitions there, one provocatively titled Wahrheit ist Arbeit (Truth is Work). After Falckenberg’s death, Döpfner became the first to step forth with the offer of an exhibition in honor of the self-professed “disobedient civilian.” Upon receiving a pledge of support from his widow, things began to move swiftly. She contacted Christian Jankowski, a conceptual artist, who her husband had begun to collect in 1998 and asked him if he might be willing to create an artwork that paid homage to his patron. Jankowski quickly sketched out an off-beat installation which entailed the following. The hiring of Rümpelwelt to pack, transport, and then set up in three of the Villa Schöningen’s downstairs galleries a mass of Falckenberg’s personal effects—piles of annotated manuscripts, books, and magazines, dozens of ties, jackets, hockey sticks, an exercise machine, video cassettes, records, diverse pieces of furniture, and even a television screen. Jankowski then oversaw the production of lightboxes featuring slogans and pictograms that he had come up with to organize the diverse material. Take, for example, one cluster of chairs, lamps, and luggage racks above which appears this illuminated statement that translates to: “Contribution to the Pathology of the Culture Business: Antiques, Rarities, Curiosities and Beauties from the Past.” Falckenberg, would have heartedly laughed not just at the formulation, but the idea of using such “didactic” components to “explain” the exhibited “works.”

Meanwhile, after Rümpelwelt arrived at the Falckenberg home, Jankowski filmed them moving heaps of his effects to Potsdam, footage that includes scenes of Larissa Falckenberg reflecting upon her husband’s ongoing passion for writing. Later, Jankowski would also train his video camera on a few second-hand merchants, recording them reading excerpts from Falckenberg’s manuscripts. The disparity between the forty drafts that their author often found necessary and the halting German of many of these individuals, is one of the more eye-opening moments of this extraordinary near-fourteen-minute video. On view in a fourth downstairs gallery, the light-hearted cheeky manner with which Jankowski approached a well-known situation—what to do with the belongings of a deceased loved one—hit just the right note.

Upon mounting the stairs to the seven galleries on the Villa Schöningen’s second floor, the first thing one sees is Paul McCarthy’s inflatable Brancusi Tree (silver) (Butt Plug) from 2007. Nearby is Raymond Pettibon’s No Title (The accumulated sins are many and the remaining temptations few) from 1988. Deeper into the show are also a few Masks (1998) by McCarthy, an artist Falckenberg began to collect well before he became all the rage in German-speaking Europe. In another gallery Monica Bonvicini’s Harness (2006) dangles from a hook. Its subtle evocation of torture and provocation calls to mind the performances of the Viennese Actionists, artists whose subversive aesthetics also obsessed Falckenberg, though none of their works are to be seen here. Adjacent are two paintings from younger artists also certainly influenced by them: Franz West’s Der Ficker Nr. 2 [The Fucker, No. 2] (2006) and Ohne Titel (GemeinschaftsmalerEi) [Untitled] (1983) by Martin Kippenberger and Albert Oehlen. Another gallery features a large six-paneled collage (1980) by Astrid Klein and two good-sized early Werner Büttner canvases. Works by two of his students, artists long supported by Falckenberg, are also on view: Daniel Richter’s painting Lonely Old Slogan (2006) and Jonathan Meese’s portrait of Francis Bacon (2002). Mike Kelley’s Arena #1 (Blue and Red) (1990) dominates the largest gallery. Comprised of two wool blankets on which a pillow and several knitted objects rest, it embodies the subversive force of sculptural understatement. However, the most rewarding aspect of this exhibition is the cumulative effect of all its exhibits. For, far from becoming outdated, the subversive aesthetics on view here, have far more to do with the mindset of many contemporary artists, than perhaps even Falckenberg could have intuited.