by Dominic V. Eichler  
 

By March, however, life runs back into the galleries and museums. Various artists this season have been making extreme physiological demands on their viewers. Monica Bonvicini, a local artist known for her hard-nosed installations, used two enormous industrial fans to create a near-hurricane force in a specially built room in the Mehdi Chouakri gallery. The work is titled A Violent, Tropical, Cyclonic Piece of Art Having Wind Speeds of or in Excess of 75 Miles per Hour (1998), based on a dictionary definition of a hurricane. This was her first solo show at Chouakri (she formerly showed at Galerie Neu), which she called "To Wall Up: Ecstasy." Other artists of the gallery include John Armleder and Sylvie Fleury.

At BüroFriedrich, which is sponsored by the Dutch government, it wasn't gale-force winds but rather blinding lights that had me running for cover. The installation by Joelle Tuerlinckx called Bildlicht weiss, Bildblind schwarz -- that is, "flash bulb white, flash blind black" -- used extremely bright flashing halogen spots, so annoying that homeowners across the river Spree called the police. Also exhibiting is Johan Grimonprez, whose book and video collection is presented as an installation called "Dorothy Doesn't Live Here Anymore..." Luckily for BüroFriedrich, it remains voguish for contemporary art to appropriate from office and corporate culture, since the space consists of five pokey offices off a skinny corridor.

If 1997 was the year many new galleries in the Mitte district opened, 1998 is shaping up to be the year to either move (Neugerriemschneider, Arndt & Partners, Wohnmaschine) or renovate (Kunst-Werke, Eigen+Art, Klosterfelde). The district's rapid and costly re-development is quickly overwhelming what is left of alternative life. Local squats have all been cleared out and the authorities seem to want to crack down on illegal clubs and bars as well. Those who spearheaded the development of the area as a cultural center are now being forced out -- sound familiar?

Gallery Arndt & Partners commenced the new year in a new premises on Auguststrasse (the main gallery drag) with a ready-to-go group show of gallery artists, titled "Resolution." Among the bric-a-brac, a canvas by French artist Fabrice Hybert provided a spot of color. 5 au tu - Anèmones (1998) is a crude depiction of an uncomfortably anatomical sea anemone in a state of both retraction and relaxation. There was also an illuminated sign by the German artist (and Documenta X participant) Peter Friedl that read Hotel Mama -- amusing for me because it is a common observation here that after a couple of drinks German men like to talk about their mothers.

In contrast, Gabrielle Jennings' exhibition "Reverie" (she's an L.A.-based artist who was in Berlin on a residency) at Kunstlerhaus Bethanien used images of swans and romantic landscapes to create a surprisingly un-saccharine video environment. Three video projections -- my favorite showing a group of young swans feeding -- were accompanied by a small techno-swan -- a modified remote-control toy whose head doubled as a surveillance camera, which scanned the room. Swan-vision could be viewed on a black-and-white monitor.

Also at Bethanien on another night, London-based Internet artist Rachel Baker gave a presentation about her various projects, including one in which she abused "loyalty cards" from British supermarket chains, using them to create her own club rather than for bargain purchases. Her tactics include "stealing" visuals from other web sites and manipulating web search engines for maximum exposure. Both supermarket chains threatened to sue, luckily for Baker, as it only increased her notoriety. Her projects can be located on the web at http://www.irational.org/tm/.

Danish artist Katrina Mosegard gave the title "Nature Dreams" to her first Berlin show, held at Galerie im Parkhaus. The gallery is on Puschkin Allee in the former East Berlin section, next to a huge park whose centerpiece is a Soviet war memorial -- one of Berlin's most impressive public sculptures, albeit in a creepy kind of way. It is a figurative work some stories high, depicting a warrior holding an infant and smashing a swastika with a massive sword. Tough competition.

Mosegard, who studied with Katherina Sieverding in Berlin, came up with an installation that used video projections of airplanes and swimming whales, hand-written texts on paper wall hangings, slides and soft dolphin sculptures. The opening had the feeling of a club sponsored by an under-funded environmental organization. Despite grandiose claims that the show was an exercise in reality simulation -- something about fictional nature replacing the real thing -- it was offbeat enough to be better than most. I'll leave you with one of Mosegard's most appealing images: dolphin-shaped cushions huddled on the floor in front of a picture of the Fernsehturn television tower, a structure they say was built to spy on the West and that still dominates Berlin's skyline.

DOMINIC V. EICHLER is an artist and writer living in Berlin.