Artists: Carina Emery - Christin Khaukha - Elena Alonso - Isabelle Young - Kilian Rüthemann - Mark Wallinger - Sarah Dwyer - Vincent Grange - Xiao Guo Hui

Amour propre - it puts the self in the place of God (after Blaise Pascal).

Self regulation, self control, self improvement, self optimisation, sculpting yourself, designing your soul…me myself and I…sounds like the calling of the day. What we can do of it, what we really want of it, is one thing. Nothing seems impossible any more, and perhaps nothing should be impossible, is the other.

You could also say that all this has to do with excesses of increased self-love. But the word is much more than that. In French, a distinction is made between amour-propre and amour-soi. “…until very recently English translators have consistently rendered the term in ways that suggest only the negative aspects of amour‐propre:1 ‘vanity’, ‘egotism’, and ‘pride’ all obscure the crucial point that, despite its many dangers, amour‐propre also has a unique potential to enrich and elevate human existence.” (Frederick Neuhauser). As Rousseau claims: “‘all our labors are directed at only two objects: the comforts of life for oneself and consideration among others’.

Neuhauser concludes in his essential essay of Rousseau’s definition of amour-propre that “the homes we live in, the clothing we wear, even the food we eat and serve to our guests—all of these choices are typically informed not only by considerations of physical need but also by ideas about how those homes, clothing, and food express or reflect our own worth and standing, both as individuals and as members of the human species.” This, the celebration of diversity within the human species with neck and crop and the sharpening of our view of individual parts of our being, which often say more about the whole, is certainly the approach of the works shown here.

Mark Wallinger's self-portraits are almost exemplary of this in a marvellous way. They are not portraits in the classical sense, but the composition is modelled on the rules of this art. The letter ‘I’, which stands for ‘self’ in English, is portrayed in a wide variety of ways. The artist has been working on this series since 2007. Always the black letter on a white background. Sometimes very large and sometimes rather small. Just as we sometimes feel. Sometimes elevated, proud, formal ‘in the style of ....’ as here in Self-Portrait (Freehand 122), 2014 and sometimes more gestural, melting, sopping, dark, heavy and sad as in Self-Portrait (Freehand 82), 2014. How much we recognise ourselves in these self-portraits. Perhaps even more so than in classic facial portraits. Also as a species. How clearly and fundamentally the message of our uniqueness and equality is conveyed here.

Like a physical manifestation of the I, Kilian Rüthemann's sculpture Re-position sits leaning against the wall as a crumpled, exhausted or contrite body. As with all of Rüthemann's works, assumptions are being tested by new relationships; the viewer's expectations are considered and played with, equally subject to the artist's manipulation as the physical materials he uses. Made from a single piece of glossy silicone the work’s simple shape is deformed by its own weight. It adapts to the architecture of its subsurface without, however, completely losing a certain tension. The result is an almost poetic, emotional effect.

There are two other long, towering sculptures in the room. Care Shifter (Lift and Dislodge), 2024 by Carina Emery and Edwarde, 2023 by Christin Khaukha. One appears rather mechanical, the other rather organic. But both mime body parts. Emery's work appears like a fully grown prosthesis brought to life, on which something organic is still growing. In any case, something that comes from inside the body and is there to help or improve it. An anthropomorphic figure. ‘It resembles a mysterious machine or tool that is capable of action, but whose exact role has yet to be discovered.’ (Emery) Edwarde, on the other hand, probably refers more to a certain physical feature. The leathery rocket limb leans or rests against the plinth or is held up by it as it falls. It is both a statement and a celebration of the body part. Luxurious fabrics such as leather and velvet have been surgically sewn together to create a gruesomely elegant sculpture. “They are fusions of contradictory materials such as metal and rubber, as well as contradictory approaches like haute couture and crafting. They undeniably provoke sexual energies. I call them creatures.” (Khaukha)

Isabelle Young's works also focus on body parts. Unusually so, one must say. Because we are more familiar with her close-up shots of architecture, which then perhaps appear corporal. Here it is the other way round. Emmanuelle's swimming suit divides the picture like a colorfield painting by Ellsworth Kelly. Her body appears sculptural. It shows an enamourment with the curve as a form - the poetic, abstract beauty that can be found on the body from this angle. Wherever Young focusses, she carves this feeling out of the subject. In Urania, 2024 and Lines on a sepulchre, 2024, she brings marble figures to life. At the same time, there is a sense of unease when looking at them, like seeing something that is no longer alive. Something sacred wafts towards you. The poetry of her photographs is born of the artist's keen eye for detail, whose radiance says much more than wide-angle shots.

Elena Alonso's lines also suggest close-ups of body parts. The artist plays with the idea of whether it is art, design or architecture. The same compressed, fleshy form that the figures have in her drawings takes on a three-dimensional shape in Untitled (West Arch 1 and Arch 2), 2020, which are grouped together like misplaced acroteria on a classical temple. The game continues when one realises that the material from which the artwork is made only pretends to be expensive marble. In reality, the artist has faked it, using an alchemical mixture of plaster and wood ash.

Elsewhere, we see the aftermath of slaughter, in Still Life, 2023 by Xiao Guo Hui. A Still Life of the other kind. You can’t help but noticing the disturbing quiet and nerve-wrecking beauty after the storm. For many a necessary diet contributing to their health, for others a no-go. The pig being butchered is a recurrent motif in Xiao’s work; pigs so easily stand in for our own condition, fattened and pampered and yet ultimately with little control of the circumstances of our lives. Consumption of pork seems to stand in for man’s brutality to man in Western and also Chinese literature, perhaps because pigs seem so intelligent and close to us - Houellebecq writes a lot about that, for example. 1

There is another painting by Xiao in the room. The study Martyrs of Beauty from 2024 provides a rare, early insight into the artist's current exploration of the theme of plastic surgery. Martyrs are people who suffer and endure death for the sake of professing their faith. Whether the five in this picture go that far is a mystery. But their obsession with physical improvement does come close to being a religion. Some call it that, others perhaps self-mutilation. Martyr can also be linked here with the word martyrdom, because that is what each of those depicted here suffers in order to realise their aspired ideal of the new self. However, the artist does not judge and does not want to do so, and when asked about this, he replied that he sees something more heroic in the drive and courage of these figures than anything else.

Presented prominently in the exhibition, we find a curious suitcase lying on an embroidered cloth. Continuing the story of Dorothy, the imaginary best friend of the LGBTQIA+ community who was once wanted by the US government, this installation by Vincent Grange imagines a picnic in public space where Dorothy is ready to face the gaze of others. With the ongoing aim of celebrating queer spaces and highlighting their importance, Grange pays tribute to Grindr, a digital queer space that is often stigmatised, by exposing it in the form of a picnic blanket for all to see in the urban environment. With this work, he aims to shed light on the paradoxical feelings that LGBTQIA+ people experience in public spaces: pride that confronts with shame, the desire for nonchalance colliding with fear, and the urge to close one's eyes to avoid meeting the gaze of others.

Sarah Dwyer also celebrates expression and the body as it is. A stretched posture in the open air - an expression of full devotion or gymnastic exercise, in any case beneficial and good for you. Connect with nature. Amour-propre also means doing something for yourself. The dramatic, tumultuous world around the person stretching herself reflects the noisy outside world, a perceived inner world or a state of mind.

Amour-propre is a wonderfully open concept. Whether what you eat, what you wear, how you exercise, what you show and what you don't, all are codes for the signifiers of our class. What artists do with the performance of socially and culturally prescribed roles and behaviour is interesting. Making and looking at art is also self-love. Without loving oneself or a part of oneself, there is hardly any useful creation. Whether they point to what is to be created or to what they themselves have created with their works is an open question and may only be answered by looking at the works.

Written by Fabian Lang
(1 after Jacob Dreyer’s essay in “Le Theatre du Paradis”)