The pictures at the theater, the flowers in the park, the buoys in the lake – everything was fine and dandy. But taming the lion at the harbor entrance? That went too far. At least for some viewers. And so, as soon as the first Lindau Biennale had started in early summer, a digital shitstorm swept over the cultural office and the curator responsible, Sophie-Charlotte Bombeck. There was talk of “disfigurement”, “cleaning rags” and “whining rags”, even “nonsense” in view of the lion surrounded by Julia Klemm with red ribbons. And not even the fact that the red ribbons flap in the wind in a stiff breeze on Lake Constance and give the Bavarian heraldic animal an imposing appearance could calm the critics. The shitstorm was followed by vandalism in several places. And on the Facebook page “You know that you’re from Lindau…” there were complaints that tourists were now deprived of their most beautiful photo of the harbor entrance with the lion and the lighthouse. – As if the lion was the only real reason to visit Lindau.
Wiped away that municipal theaters and marionette operas also have attraction. Don’t forget that the art museum always attracts visitors, especially in summer with its special exhibitions such as the current “Myth of Nature”. Hidden that the city’s traditional Nobel Laureate Meeting brought fame and glory. Shamelessly concealing the fact that many of Lindau’s summer guests are visitors to the festival in neighboring Bregenz, who not only appreciate the evening crossing with the festival shuttle directly to the floating stage, but also the fact that Lindau has more to offer than the lighthouse and the lion.
The Lindau harbor entrance with lighthouse and lion. The latter is surrounded by a red net during the “In situ Paradise” Biennial.
(Photo: Peter Zahel)
There is no question that the lion is a symbol of the city. He and the lighthouse frame the harbor entrance, which city marketing likes to describe as “the most beautiful on Lake Constance”, capturing spectacular sunsets and silvery full moons. Since 1856, the six meter high and more than 50 tonne truss made of Kehlheim sandstone by Johann von Halbig has been guarding the Lindau harbor and sending salutes to Austria. But precisely because of such consistency in the Lake Constance paradise, a change of perspective should take place. Such was the idea of the curator Sophie-Charlotte Bombeck, who designed the concept “In situ Paradise” for the first art biennale in Lindau. Actually planned for 2021 and parallel to the State Garden Show, Corona then made it necessary to postpone the art event by one year.
The Munich curator Sophie-Charlotte Bombeck is responsible for the 1st Lindau Biennale “In situ Paradise”, which will be on view until September.
(Photo: Magdalena Jooss)
For the art historian from Munich, who was born in 1991 and is also the head of the off-space Super+Centercourt, the postponement was not at all inconvenient. Although she is well networked, she has not yet implemented a project of this magnitude. However, the cultural office trusted her and gave her artistic “carte blanche”, as she says. Because it is the first Lindau Biennale, there was no infrastructure on which to build. Personal support was minimal, and 30,000 euros as start-up capital to finance a half-year, island-wide art campaign is not exactly ample. Things turned out to be more or less a one-woman show. “We raised 90 percent of the third-party funds ourselves,” says Bombeck, not without pride. In cooperation with the city’s other cultural institutions, a Supporting program with concerts, readings and numerous events lifted. The Biennale Shop has moved into the courtyard of the Kunstmuseum and is a work of art, information stand and exhibition space all in one.
Manuel Strauss’s “Message in a Bottle” at the “In situ Paradise” Biennale in Lindau.
(Photo: Peter Zahel)
With more than 20 contemporary artists, Bombeck set out on the trail of the Lindau paradise. And at the same time the question arose: What does paradise mean for each individual in times of climate and energy crises, and how can it be made visible with the means of contemporary art? No finished works of art were shipped to Lindau, but the discussion arose “in situ”, i.e. on site. You can walk around the island in the footsteps of contemporary art, which deals with the place. Booklets and maps, a well-designed website and an AR app help with this.
Toshihiko Mitsuya has created an “Aluminum Garden” in the Luitpoldpark from 100 detailed aluminum plants.
(Photo: Stefanie Bernhard-Lentz)
It has not become a major international event that could be compared to Venice, but a biennial that is primarily used by national and regional artists. But the beginnings are good, and the fresh look at what has become dear and what is familiar offers opportunities for new discoveries. For example, when Dana Greiner on the bridge that leads to the island painted the pump house, which doesn’t smell like paradise, brightly colored and with her sound installation “Parajenseits hier!” played ironically. It is normal for buoys to float on the lake. But the brightly colored “Bottle Message” by Manuel Strauss on the other side of the bridge is offensive. And Maria Anwander, with her “Public Dancefloor” on the Lindenschanze, has managed to get people from the most diverse backgrounds dancing dreamily to a playlist at a socially difficult hot spot in the city.
From a drone perspective: The red house in the water “My Floating Home” by the land artist Karolin Schwab.
(Photo: Peter Zahel)
The red house in the water by Karolin Schwab serves as a stopover for swimmers. But it was also quickly discovered as a motif suitable for Instagram.
(Photo: Peter Zahel)
Camill von Egloffstein’s “Garden of Earthly Delights” in St. Peter’s Church, Schirin Kretschmann’s work in the Eiskeller, Felix Rodewaldt and Thilan Stiller’s “Honig” work on the Thierschbrücke or Martin Pfeifle’s design for the bus station – they deal with the history, spaces and squares of the city. The blue and red snail sculpture by Esther Zahel on the Casinowiese has established itself as a playground for children, as has Toshihiko Mitsuya’s “Aluminium Garden” in the Luitpoldpark. And Karolin Schwab’s land art project “My Floating Home” has long since become an eye-catcher at the Biennale. The red house in the water serves as a destination and stopover for swimmers and has turned out to be a perfect motif suitable for Instagram.
“Every end is preceded by a beginning” is what the artist and mathematician Esther Zahel called her snail-shaped sculpture inscribed with mathematical equations on the casino lawn.
(Photo: Peter Zahel)
There are numerous works of art that open up new perspectives for those who don’t close their eyes and ears and sometimes allow almost heavenly breaks. This also includes Peter Zahel’s contemplation bowl, which temporarily invites you to let yourself drift on Lake Constance. And just where you think you know things very well, it’s a good idea to take a look through one of Olga Golos’ “frames”. A number of them were vandalized. But through one you can see the lion tamed by Julia Klemm and therefore so controversial. Framed by the uneven gold frame, he is brought into focus. Lo and behold: it looks almost more imposing than usual.
Perhaps the edition of the mini lions that is offered in the Biennale shop as an ironic reminiscence of the typical tourist souvenir will even sell in the end. After all: In the meantime, a number of users on Facebook have posted enthusiastic photos of the tamed lion, the silvery glittering aluminum flowers or the house by the lake at sunset – including many hearts, likes and “Amazing” comments. And if not, fine too. The ideas of paradise are different and the main thing is to think about it. Then the first Biennale for Lindau has achieved its most important goal.
in situ paradise 1st Lindau Biennaleuntil September