Lot 629 D

Rebecca Horn has the ability to relate art and space in a wonderful, at times mysterious way and, in doing so, to radiate an aesthetic as well as poetic presence. Filigree automata operate and move sculptures, cast a spell between the states of immobility, waiting and graceful movement. The faint hum of the motors becomes a unmistakable aura. With the materialisation of accustic and mechanic phenomena, the aura of her work develops between malevolence, scurrility and surreality.
Feathers and wings are essential raw materials within the sculptural work of the artist. They obscure, create masks (Cockatoo Mask, 1973), make entire bodies disappear and, at the same time, protect against greedy eyes (Paradise Widow, 1975), incessantly turn cartwheels (Peacock Machine, 1979-80), show a stoic, perpetual cycle of opening and closing movements (La petite veuve, 1988). 'The small widow rises, stares at the iridescent moon river, spreads her black wings, and yawns.' (Rebecca Horn) And thus, the droopy, iridescent, blue feathers unfold to a uniform (peacock) wheel and after a period of a conceited poise collapse again like a folding fan. In this moving, mechanical gesture of the anecdote, the object unfolds its profoundly poetic power that enchants the observer.