Only Florentina Holzinger is as popular as Gisèle Vienne. But Vienne is more subtle, a master of the mysterious and disturbing. Now you can discover her in Berlin with her dance piece “Crowd” and two exhibitions – and be scared at the same time.
Everything is slow. Very slowly. In ultra slow motion, feet wander across the dance floor made of dust and old plastic bottles, arms fly in the air. A mechanical ballet of bodies and gazes on the pounding rhythms of the legendary American label Underground Resistance, the techno coming from the ruins of the working class industry of Detroit. A hint of the end of the story hovers in Berlin’s Sophiensäle, where Gisèle Vienne’s dance piece “Crowd” is performed – a hauntingly beautiful and futureless homage.
Currently only Florentina Holzinger is as popular on the Berlin art scene as Vienne, born in France in 1976. The two most publicized stars met for a discussion in the Sophiensäle. While Holzinger, with his aesthetics of nudity and drama, remains faithful to the classic avant-garde script of border crossing, Vienne’s works, like David Lynch’s films, follow the more subtle register of the unconscious, the disturbing and repressed. An expert in the mysterious.
Vienne studied philosophy and puppetry and has been working for 25 years with her own company and with stars such as the writer Dennis Cooper and the actress Adèle Haenel. To sharpen the audience’s perception of traces of the fragile unconscious, Vienne uses techniques such as extreme slowing down or uses loud, atmospheric music such as the booming sound worlds of Healthy O))) or the dreamy synthesizers of Caterina Barbieri.
Is it luck? Or run away?
In “Crowd,” Vienne extends a techno party for over an hour and a half, during which 15 dancers, at first glance, do nothing but rave. The costumes paint a panorama of youth subcultures and countercultures; exudes an existential abandon. At a second glance, for which you have a lot of time at this speed, it reveals a complex microevent of desire. Who’s going where? Who rejects whom? Who bathes in the light and who stays in the shadows on the fringes?
Sometimes the dancers move so erratically as if they were under strobe lights. Then it flows again. A packet of crisps explodes, a bottle of Coca-Cola overflows. Suddenly a high-pitched scream. The party is increasingly disturbing. Something is going terribly wrong, you can feel it. Or did something go wrong a long time ago? A mystery that arouses the viewer’s investigative curiosity and yet cannot be solved. In the end you dance alone, lost in yourself, the world has disappeared. Is it luck? Or run away?
In a time that craves clarity, Vienne makes the ambiguous and ambiguous tangible. It explores the shadow areas of languageless humanity that remain untouched by the
In Berlin, in addition to “Crowd”, you can currently discover another aspect of Vienne’s work: her dolls, which are being honored with two exhibitions. In the house near the forest lake, life-size dolls lie lined up in glass coffins, like in a fairy tale. Once again this type of youthful loss, sometimes presented in a studded gothic look and sometimes with sweatpants and a Mickey Mouse hat. In the next room you see a house party with chips and soda, a doll is lying on the floor on the side.
A disturbing atmosphere is restored. What happened here? The dolls, with their eyes full of tears, appear to the viewer as a silent question. What have you done to me? We know from children that dolls must endure every kindness, but also every cruelty. Inanimate, but similar to human beings (and therefore scary, as we know from horror films), dolls are a double, a double and a mirror of the symbolic.
“I know I can double” is the logical name of the exhibition at the Georg Kolbe Museum, where Vienne is linked to the dolls of the classical avant-garde of the 20th century. The next level of eeriness is already reached in the first room: the dolls have now emerged from their glass coffins and are standing in the room, so that it is difficult to distinguish them from visitors. Who belongs to the realm of the living and who belongs to the disturbing doppelgangers.
In the corner is a doll sitting on a camping chair, with a small doll with a crooked leg and a bloody mouth in her lap. Immediately that catastrophic premonition again, as if one doll was telling something about the other. Even another doll’s bloody-toothed monster mask pushed back onto its head suddenly seems like an open question about who’s playing what and why. As Carl Schmitt put it: the doll is our very question as a figure. A questioning of oneself.
Warning about cultural appropriation
With historical dolls, visitors have a strange experience with the latest museum education. While the introductory text praises fluidity and border crossing, small signs next to the objects point out that some of them could be perceived today as racist due to “cultural appropriation”, without going into more detail. Is it because someone tells the story of Prince Ahmed who is not called Ahmed?
Two contradictory judgments suddenly strike the visitor. But perhaps we need to accept this type of double moral exposure of art in Walter Benjamin’s sense, according to which it is never a document of culture without also being a document of barbarism. The Vienne dolls also deal with this contradiction, as they seem to document violence and at the same time – through their alienation as a symbolic work of art – already on the verge of overcoming it.
After seeing “Crowd” and the two exhibitions, you also know what distinguishes Vienne from Holzinger: Holzinger ultimately allows an intact self to triumph, one that knows itself to be safe even when the body is exposed, raped or sold for sexual purposes. This undisturbed relationship does not exist in Vienne. For her, the self has always been marked by the incisions of her own or others’ desires, which reach the point of violence. And that really shocks you.
The exhibitions featuring Gisèle Vienne’s dolls can be visited at the Haus am Waldsee until 12 January and at the Georg Kolbe Museum until 9 March.
What are the primary themes explored in Gisèle Vienne’s dance piece ”Crowd”?
Interview between Time.news Editor and Gisèle Vienne Expert
Editor: Welcome to Time.news, where we delve into the fascinating intersections of art, culture, and society. Today, we have the pleasure of exploring the work of the incredible Gisèle Vienne, whose latest dance piece “Crowd” is captivating audiences in Berlin. Joining me is Dr. Clara Hartmann, an expert in contemporary performance art and Vienne’s work. Thank you for being here, Dr. Hartmann!
Dr. Hartmann: Thank you for having me! I’m excited to discuss Vienne’s compelling artistry.
Editor: In the article, it’s noted that Vienne’s work is often described as “subtle” and “disturbing.” How do you think these elements manifest in “Crowd”?
Dr. Hartmann: That’s a great question. Vienne masterfully taps into the complexities of human emotion and social dynamics. In “Crowd,” for instance, she juxtaposes the superficial joy of a techno party with a deeper exploration of isolation and existential despair. Using techniques like extreme slow motion, the audience is invited to reflect on the micro-events of desire and connection—or lack thereof—among the dancers.
Editor: The article highlights the music of Underground Resistance and its connection to the piece. How does music play a role in enhancing the atmosphere?
Dr. Hartmann: The music is crucial. Vienne’s choice of loud and atmospheric sounds creates both an immersive experience and a contrasting backdrop to the dancers’ movements. The pounding techno rhythm resonates with the physicality of the performance while also amplifying feelings of unrest and tension. As the piece progresses, it transforms from celebratory to unsettling, much like a real-life party that takes a darker turn.
Editor: The concept of “ambiguous and ambiguous” emotions is intriguing. How does Vienne address this complexity in her work?
Dr. Hartmann: Vienne is a master of the uncanny. She allows her audience to grapple with uncertainty and ambiguity, presenting experiences that elicit unease without clear resolution. For example, in “Crowd,” as the dance progresses, viewers might question who is feeling joy, who is in despair, and what the boundaries of these emotions are. This layered exploration encourages a deeper understanding of the repressed aspects of our humanity.
Editor: You mentioned her dolls exhibited in Berlin alongside “Crowd.” What do these dolls say about Vienne’s overall themes of fear and desire?
Dr. Hartmann: The dolls are deeply symbolic—reflecting aspects of childhood innocence juxtaposed with adult fears and complexities. They lie in glass coffins, evoking the notion of loss and stillness, yet they also engage the viewer directly, causing an unsettling contemplation of identity and reality. The dolls mirror both societal expectations and the darker undercurrents of human nature. When Vienne allows visitors to mingle with life-size dolls that could pass for real people, it creates an uncanny interaction that blurs the line between observer and observed.
Editor: Fascinating! The duality of dolls acting as both companions and reminders of cruelty is compelling. How does this connect to Vienne’s exploration of self-identity?
Dr. Hartmann: Exactly. Dolls serve as a reflection of our inner selves and societal narratives—we often project our desires, fears, and identities onto them. Vienne invokes this with her exhibition “I know I can double,” emphasizing the questioning nature of identity. Much like the dolls, we often navigate the space between who we are and how we are perceived by the world, provoking a contemplation of authenticity and the roles we play.
Editor: As we wrap up, what do you think audiences take away from experiencing Vienne’s works, particularly “Crowd” and the exhibitions?
Dr. Hartmann: Audiences walk away with a dual sense of discomfort and curiosity. Vienne challenges them not just to witness her work but to engage with their vulnerabilities and the societal constructs surrounding them. In a world that often craves clarity, her ability to make the ambiguous palpable feels revolutionary and necessary. It’s both exhilarating and haunting—a true testament to her vision.
Editor: Thank you, Dr. Hartmann, for sharing your insights into Gisèle Vienne’s captivating world. It seems her ability to blend beauty with discomfort offers a profound experience for audiences.
Dr. Hartmann: Thank you! It’s been a pleasure discussing Vienne’s work. I hope more people get the chance to experience it.
Editor: We encourage everyone to check out her performances and exhibitions in Berlin. Thank you for tuning in!