Christian Eisenberger - Estrangement and engagement
Christian Eisenberger’s art work and performances often smack of insouciance, but, like a child and even more like an artist, his desire to engage is very real.
When a tree falls down in the forest and noone witnesses it, did it really happen? When an artist makes a sculpture on top of a mountain and noone sees it, is it really art?
The artist Christian Eisenberger does not like to limit himself to the gallery or the art space. When the impulse moves him, he is content to spontaneously create something when and where he wants, and then to let it run its course. Such is the case with his ice sculptures or his sugar cube towers that are left in their natural environments to melt or be overrun by ants. Such tendencies towards land art-influenced pieces demonstrate both Eisenberger’s methods of inspiration as well as his attitude toward art-world restrictions such as properly designated venues or commissioned works. Eisenberger first gained attention by his impromptu displays of cardboard figures on city streets and art fair grounds. The gesture questioned the predispositions of viewers and so-called “proper” venues.
The need to create art is a complex one. On the one hand, one could argue that art is a cry for attention, a narcissistic calling. On the other, art is a form of play, a way to satisfy one’s childlike predisposition towards drawing, building, making stuff. Eisenberger creates works that want to be acknowledged, but at the same time, Eisenberger hides behind his work while simultaneously daring the viewer to look away. In a recent exhibition, he took cover within a bear suit made entirely out of packing tape, spray painting cryptic messages and scrawlings within a makeshift four-walled cardboard space. The set-up both invited the viewer to utilize unstable aids such as a ladder or a wobbly table to get a peek at his antics, but the effort was rewarded by his playful displays and offerings of snacks. In the end, the structure was challenge to and deconstruction of the static “white cube” gallery space by literally converting the viewer from a passive to an active role. It was all part of the “game” that Eisenberger had meticulously set up, at once inviting and defiant.
But this is not to say that Eisenberger’s approach is childish. The bear suit is a further development of a series of works involving countless cocoons that the artist created and then shed by wrapping himself in packing tape and then cutting himself out of the mummy-like figures. Such projects satisfy his need to hide and yet be seen, and the resulting shells, which he then displayed in various contexts, remain testaments to his observations on performance, corporeality, and materiality. Further use of ephemeral, “trashy” materials such as packing tape, cardboard boxes, or even his own sperm, express his commitment to spontaneity and his rebellion against material worth. His performances—for example, when he dressed up as kind of faux suicide-bomber clown and walked the streets of Vienna and London—often smack of insouciance, but, like a child and even more like an artist, his desire to engage is very real. (jn)
This artist portrait was realised with the kind support of the CastYourArt foundation.