Burdened landscapes and golden skies
If you mix Klimt, Van Gogh, and Hieronymus Bosch, do you get Kiefer? Of course, there’s more to an artist than the sum of those who may have inspired him, but it was interesting to see reflections of these great masters transpire in some of his works. The applied gold is perhaps the most obvious, together with the patches of reed and straw swirling through a teal sky. I thought the dark blacks were reminiscent of the third part of Bosch’s triptych as well.
Anselm Kiefer
Pasting materials other than paint on a canvas seems to be a current trend, but it often feels gimmicky. In Kiefer's case, however, it works impressively. Standing in front of the gigantic works, your eye wanders through the abstract forms, textures, and tones. As you step back further and further, the image slowly reveals itself as a classical painting, but with tremendous depth—thanks to the textures formed by the materials pasted on the canvas.
As you walk through the exhibition, you find yourself moving between almost entering an abstract painting, due to the sheer scale of the works, and a fresh way of looking at the landscapes we associate with Van Gogh. The occasional sickle stuck onto the canvas might feel a bit too literal compared to the subtlety of the other works. It shows that, at times, an indirect visual narrative can be more effective in telling a universal story.
Is it a story of scorched earth with a golden glow of hope in the sky? Or perhaps the tale of a farmer who grew too greedy? These paintings provoke us to reflect on today's world—images that forewarn of dark times to come. If it’s not Russian bombs burning our fields, it will likely be the unrelenting sun or torrential rains washing away fertile soil into the sea.
I was particularly moved by the work "Sag mir wo die Blumen sind." The colorful leaves of the flowers tumble to the floor, below what appears to be a muddy mass of culture beneath a golden sky. This piece stirred in me the thought that humanity, through its culture and progress, has blended the Earth’s elements into one indistinguishable sludge—where the flowers die, and we with them.
If the work symbolizes the cycle of life and death, then perhaps it represents, in the context of our time, the life and death of societies. This interpretation feels especially relevant as we edge closer to a Third World War. Strikingly, during such moments—just as with the looming climate catastrophe—we continue as if everything is fine.
We can contemplate the end of our time in a museum, almost as if it doesn’t affect us directly. As if we are outsiders to our own story. And those of us who survive may one day contemplate the consequences, hopefully in museums as beautiful as the ones we have today.
As Arnon Grunberg recently mentioned, "The more the Second World War lies in the past, the more I understand those who adapted." The more I think about it, the closer we draw to World War III, the more I realize that we, too, are all adaptors. In viewing Kiefer’s work, we are not only confronting the past, but also the looming uncertainties of our own future, perhaps without realizing it.
The exhibition “Anselm Kiefer - Sag mir wo die Blumen sind” can be seen until June 9th 2025 and is spread over the Van Gogh Museum and the Stedelijk Museum. A must see. You can order your tickets here.