A bronze sculpture marks the “LSBTIQ place of remembrance” in the Düsseldorf Rhine meadows, a work by the gay Cologne artist Claus Richter, born in 1971. The Düsseldorf “LSBTIQ Forum” had long campaigned for such a monument, for which the Art Commission of the City of Düsseldorf finally one Competition announced. In an interview, Claus Richter explains what it was like to get the first order for a public monument that also concerns him.
SZ: Is that a classic case of commissioned art?
Claus Richter: Yes, definitely, but I think that’s great. I studied at the Offenbach University of Design. At that time, the focus was less on the idea of the artistic genius, but more on collaborative work, craft and a certain openness to tasks.
Does that mean that working on the LGBTIQ monument is not that different from your usual approach?
The process that has now led to this almost classic design is not that different from other works. It’s always about solving a task with a certain stubbornness. You look, read, exchange ideas with the LGBTIQ forum, and slowly something comes. David Lynch once described it with the picture of fishing, you throw nets into a large, unknown field, and suddenly you catch an idea.
The artist Claus Richter doesn’t usually work in bronze – but then he wanted to place a classic statue in the floodplains of the Rhine.
(Photo: Uwe Schaffmeister)
You finally designed a bronze monument with an inscription. Sounds like a very traditional aesthetic.
What inspired me were all the bronze sculptures that I walked past on the joint tour of the city with the other applicants and the art committee. Everyone turned their noses up a bit at these ancient monuments. And then I thought: How about doing exactly that now: A classic bronze statue! The first drafts looked quite martial, because I thought a combative monument to the topic was appropriate. Gradually the shape has changed slightly, has become softer.
How can you imagine this monument?
There are four life-size bronze figures. You stand on a low pedestal and stretch your hands in all four directions, with clenched fists and victory signs. At the same time they hold hands. On the one hand, these are gestures of protest, as can be seen in the historical photos of the uprisings against the often violent exclusion of sexual minorities. Holding hands, on the other hand, is a very original image of community. So they are gestures of struggle and confidence.
You have cast models for this group of figures. According to what criteria?
After a long search I found four apparently “male”, apparently “female” models who for me are archetypal for different forms of life. Real people who make you wonder: who is who now? And maybe thinks: It could be me too. Or that, or that. I could have brought in more clichéd attributions: a queen with a feather boa, a leather gay in clothing, a transgender woman with surgical scars. But I would find such an illustrative approach too reductive. Sexual diversity is a broad field.
The decision for your design was politically controversial in the Düsseldorf city council. Why?
I think there was initially the misunderstanding that a monument should be created that could be interpreted as either right-wing or left-wing extremist because of its aesthetics. This misunderstanding is definitely part of the work.
The memorial is said to have the title “LGBTIQ place of remembrance”. You yourself describe your work as “a strangely classic monument”.
The idea was to clothe something that had previously been excluded from a certain aesthetic of memory in precisely this aesthetic.
What does this monument mean to you personally?
I hope that on the one hand it will be a place of remembrance and reverence to all who have lived their sexual identity with great suffering and with great courage. On the other hand, there is also the utopia of a humanistic naturalness in which there is a broad sexual spectrum, but less against each other. A place that celebrates diversity, that would be my dream.