After Von Hügel - New Holland Walks: September 2014

Captions will follow, once I have my catalogue back and I can refer to all the (mainly Austrian) artists by name.

On Friday Stephanie organised a special visit to a private collection not far from Krems. Her interest in the collection was piqued by a scale model of a Dan Graham site-specific work exhibited recently at MUMOK in Vienna. A newspaper article about the collection steeled her resolve, and Alice and I were lucky enough to join the adventure.

We disembarked from the one-carriage train at a tiny platform. Stephanie said, ‘We are in the middle of nowhere’. Of course, everything is relative; there were houses and stone walls, and then a welcoming figure, standing at the gates of a long tree lined driveway.

The Bogner Collection (Kunstraum Buchberg) came about when, in 1965, Mrs Gertraud Bogner’s father-in-law bought the adjoining woods, and in doing so, was forced to purchase the castle as well. The aristocratic family, forced to sell for financial reasons, auctioned the contents of the castle separately. The remaining shell eventually became a blank canvas (or in fact, a richly inscribed and complex space, both historically and architecturally) in which the Bogner’s facilitated numerous site-specific works. Rather than renovating the whole building (which is enormous) the Bogner’s were able to address rooms and spaces one at a time, depending on the ideas and intentions of each artist. This project was begun in the 1980’s and continues today.

The spaces defy classification, the wooden floors reminiscent of the 8^th Biennale of Sydney’s [1]location on the docks on one hand, and then on the other, the remnants of ornate plasterwork and Austrian kitsch returning me quickly to the present location, its history palpable. As we know, Australia’s history is tens of thousands of years old, but our daily experience of concrete, architectural permanent structures spans less the 300 years. Inevitably, the architecture in Europe, pushes and pulls me between my experience now, and the wonder of what went before. This happens in Australia too, but in a different way.

This castle, part Renaissance, part Baroque, built on a curve of a river, emerging (not quite seamlessly) from a rocky outcrop, attends to history and place; the contemporary art within, on and spilling from its walls are the fruits of over 30 years of collaboration and conversation between the Bogner’s and their artist friends.

Cracks in walls, the artists’ practice, the dreamy location in Lower Austria, and of course the people involved, all influence each other. The experience of walking through this building is dreamy and magical. An idea turned into form, surprisingly free of ego or front, considering the labour and time involved in such a long term venture.

The collection is not open to the public, but anyone can contact the Bogner’s to arrange a visit. Mrs Bogner first showed us around the space, particularly discussing several of the outdoor works. Then she left us to explore the castle alone. There were some works, including a room with documentation and maquettes that were not strictly ‘site-specific’. However, most works were created for a particular room, stairwell or closet. Some works took over 5 years to be realised (if at all).

Dan Graham’s outdoor ‘glass house’ continues to fascinate and preoccupy me. Mrs Bogner described the walled garden where the work now sits, as being filled with trees and overgrown when Graham visited the castle. However, he was sure this was the location for the work.

It is made of 25% reflective glass. The wet morning filled the outdoor room with condensation, the reflections and views through the glass merged softly, dreamily confusing perception and reality. The glass structure is an equilateral triangle; it sits atop another identically shaped pond, its points crossing the sides of the triangle. A perfect Star of David. I wondered to myself—this could not be a coincidence—and sure enough Mrs Bogner explained that when Dan Graham visited Austria he was struck by the absence of Jewish symbolism on a continent still so recently coming to terms with the Holocaust. Yet at every turn he saw Catholic buildings and imagery.

I didn’t research the Bogner Collection prior to visiting Schloss Buchberg. Often this can be a bad idea, a little research can enrich and inform an experience. On this occasion I am glad I went without preconception. It is rare to find a place where one is filled with such wonder and joy. I kept thinking that my daughter Romy would love this place so much—nooks and crannies, old structures, art interventions, colour, playfulness—truly a place where the imagination can soar.

[1] The Readymade Boomerang, 1990

Dan Graham, Star of David, 1996

Laubengang fuer Gertraud und Dieter Bogner 2001 durch Heimo Zobernig wiederhergestellt

A shed snake skin on the wall above the pergola.

Entering the Schloss courtyard

Views along the River Kamp

A merry go round, one of the few pieces left in the Schloss by the previous owners.

Atelier for artist friends to use

Correspondence, plans, maquettes

Often maquettes are made of each room prior to creating the work.

model

actual room

tiny window looking out to sound work in the courtyard

The private chapel

Dora Maurer, Quasi Bild, 1983

Dora Maurer, Quasi Bild, 1983 and Stephanie

Dora Maurer, Quasi Bild, 1983

Robert Schad, 1986

Francois Marillet

Dan Graham, Star of David, 1996

Stephanie, Dan Graham and archway

Auf wiedersehen!

Walking to the Stift Göttweig Bells

I’m sitting on the balcony at the Artist Residence. My view starting immediately below me, reveals balcony gardens of other apartments, then the Hofer (Aldi in Australia), a main road, children playing soccer (white and yellow kit, joyous cries) and beyond that the Danube with the now resting dredger, and finally the vineyards, towns and hills of the Southern bank.

It is 6:11pm ( 2:11am in Melbourne). After an overcast start the day has been glorious. The knowledge that Austrian’s are disappointed with their summer—too much rain—has turned my attention to the weather, especially as I am working on a non-waterproof tent.

On my right stands a pink and blue building, taller that the iAIR thus hiding my view of the Stift Göttweig where Alice and I walked to on Monday evening last. Alice tells me that a Stift is both a pen and a monastery. I wonder if they somehow share an etymology? I am imagining Medieval monks writing illustrated manuscripts, with and inside their Stift.

Stift Göttweig

From this side of the Danube the monastery is imposing and visible from most places except this. The walk is approximately 2 hours each way. This estimate assumes the walkers are concentrating on waymarkers, and does not factor in the long route round, or the need to back track. Alice and I managed all of the above, adding perhaps an hour to our ascent. However, there were two excellent outcomes. Firstly, it meant we walked up around the back and through lovely woods on the steep incline to the summit. Secondly, it delayed our arrival, so that when we did finally reach the gates of the monastery it was 6pm and the bells for evening mass were pealing. I spontaneously recorded the bells on my phone; they continued for several minutes, and then the sounds spaced and faded until eventually the bells stopped and we could hear singing coming from within the Church. I pictured the bells inside the tower gradually losing momentum, never echoing, but cushioning and softening their own sounds.

any surface may carry a wayfarer mark

wayfaring trees

wayfaring archway

The interior of the Church was predictably ornate, the man singing somewhere inside could be heard not seen, even when we walked inside.

Stift and crane

Echium vulgare

Mary Delany- Physalis

Wildflowers clinging on.

Tiny chapel, another missed turn

Shady woods around the back

Stift bells greet us

Church and graves in the valley

We descended via the other face of the hill. The sun was setting before us, and we were washed with the golden light of pre-dusk. This side of the hill, the actual Jakobsweg, was much rockier and drier—a different microclimate to the woods on the other side. We moved quickly back to the little town where we had taken a wrong turn, trudging through the vineyards and stopping for some Strudel at a bar/restaurant before crossing the Danube and returning to Krems via Stein.