Dietmar Busse, ‘Today I wanted to die again’
I was finally able to make it to Dietmar’s second solo show at Fierman, having recovered sufficiently from a kneecap fracture.
Having moved on from images from negatives, these works on photographic paper focus on a jewel-like quality—the idea that difficult subject matter dealing with death and violence can have a silver lining.
Like medieval tableaux where perspective is flattened and figures display proportions following what could presumably be the impetus of the moment when they were made, one feels like in front of an altar or ceremonial space when standing in front of the work.
The portrait-like images—which follow a cryptic golden rule of triangles—inspire a sense of reverence, like looking at a stained-glass window shimmering with color and light. Their glossy surfaces beckon the viewer to come closer.
The landscapes are tales of the bucolic and gothic coexisting, moving from tenderness to gore as the eye skims the surface.
Dietmar draws like a child, a compliment alluding to Picasso’s famous words. Personally, I am drawn to the way in which he draws houses, with the two windows and a door that give them a face-like appearance.
There is something deeply meditative about the process of adding the dots that create the outermost layer of these works. That uppermost surface feels like a reckoning on the representation of tense autobiographical events.
Deeply personal, Dietmar’s work is testament to the power of art-making to take us to a special place where we might not even know what is happening. When we come back to our everyday, something has lifted, and all feels lighter.
When I visited Friday, I was wearing one of the new hats Agnes de Garron brought over last week, Levi’s Premium XX Chinos, and a t-shirt on the myths of Alphabet City by I’m Everywhere. Dietmar was wearing his hand-embroidered garments.
‘Today I wanted to die again’ closes Sunday, December 13. Fierman Gallery is at 127 Henry St. Hours are noon–6.
Photos by Goor Studio.
