“People don’t even come here to talk.” It’s a sentence that Christine Eixenberger probably doesn’t often say, as the cabaret artist and actress is the kind of person who is described as “not easy on the tongue”. But up here in the Turmstüberl of the Valentin-Karlstadt-Musäum she is busy looking at what it’s like when you sit in the middle of this collection of curiosities for the first time: practical jokes and gross mischief wherever you look! Christian Springer grins at Eixenberger’s astonished expression and says: “Look over the door!” A bat floats up and down as soon as someone opens or closes the door. A wonderfully bizarre ambience, this café of a different kind, unfortunately acutely threatened with extinction, more about that in a moment.
Because before the party community meets in the south tower of the Isartor for Prosecco and Laugenstange, there’s culture next door in the north tower: the exhibition opening of “A Bomb View”, a joint work by the cabaret artist Springer and his long-time companion Albert Kampfhammer. The latter photographed the former 31 times in black and white, each time with a black briefcase placed over his head: sitting on a sleigh on the Olympic mountain or in the passport photo machine, sticking his feet in the Eisbach, lying flat on the ground, dodging an Amazon’s javelin throw or opposite Pericles, who is also wearing a helmet.
The photo series was triggered by Putin’s war of aggression and his blatant threat of a nuclear strike. Older students immediately think of the duck-and-cover films from the 1950s in the USA, when there was a threat of a nuclear war breaking out off Cuba. The myth also persisted in our part of the world that in such a case it was enough to put a black briefcase over your head for protection, as the federal government recommended in its “Everyone has a chance” campaign in the 1960s.
And since Springer still has such a bag at home even after the death of his stage character Fonse (“Mom said: Save it! It’s still from dad!”), the recurring photo motif quickly became clear. The see-nothing-hear-nothing-smell-nothing look implies more and actually represents an anti-war call that has become an image. Springer says: “I notice how people are currently losing their senses. The senses for appropriate behavior, their environment, our nature, politics, justice, empathy, solidarity.” No contradiction, anywhere.
Crowd at the opening: But museum director Sabine Rinberger is not allowed to let in more than 50 guests at the same time.
(Photo: Catherina Hess)
Springer received interesting feedback on the traveling exhibition (in the Isartor until April 16th). In Beirut, where he has been organizing all kinds of support with his “Orienthelfer” initiative for years and where the opening took place last summer, he was told: “Hear nothing, see nothing: you have made an exhibition about Lebanon!” In Burghausen, the last stop so far, an older woman said: “I want to be like the guy with the bag over his head! Then you won’t be so vulnerable anymore.” The local mayor was very impressed and bought a central motif for 1,800 euros – Springer at Königsplatz, titled “Was was?” – purchased in DIN A0 format, says Springer, of course without wanting to embarrass his fellow mayor of Munich, Dominik Krause. He responded with a short greeting, obediently posed for a photo with Uschi Glas and other VIPs and skipped the Turmstüberl.
Possibly to avoid getting caught up in a discussion with museum director Sabine Rinberger. With its unique museum, it is stuck in a Bermuda triangle of accessibility, fire protection and monument protection from which there seems to be no escape. She is currently not allowed to admit more than 50 guests at the same time; planning security only exists until the summer. It’s a good thing that Karl Valentin also wrote an aphorism for such situations in life: “Even the future used to be better.” We keep our fingers crossed!