Franka Hörnschemeyer
Panagiotis Loukas


 

Franka Hörnschemeyer, Flüssigsauerstoffanlage 1, 2001, C-print, 90 × 60 cm


‘Nature does not know disappearance; it only knows transformation. All that science has taught me and continues to teach me solidifies my faith in the continuation of our intellectual existence after death.’
— Wernher von Braun


Peenemünde is located on the northern edge of the Usedom peninsula on the German coast of the Baltic. In 1973, the Heeresversuchsstelle Peenemünde centre for military research was founded under Wernher von Braun’s technical administration and operated until 1945. The main rocket systems used by the Nazi’s were — among other things — developed there, the most renowned being the notorious V2 but other pioneering systems for that period as well, such as the first CCTV system. A concentration camp was constructed on the island of Karlshagen to cover the needs of the work force. The Nazi establishment based its metaphysical obsessions on scientific ‘rationalism’ and in this context Peenemünde is a characteristic example of a temple-sanctuary for the worship of science, as a seemingly logical adaptation of The Island of Doctor Moreau.

Franka Hörnschemeyer (b. 1958) works as a cold anatomist on the limits and the perception of space using building materials as her main medium. In the series of photographs titled Peenemünde which she is exhibiting at the Jewish Museum of Greece she attempts a different approach on the space by confronting the existing emotional load found in the ruins as a vehicle for the limits of the documented space. In her photographic installation, together with the coloured photographs of the destroyed facilities of the HVP — which she has been depicting with her lens since 2001e — Hörnschemeyer presents archival pictures and architectural plans of the facilities of the HVP from the time it was at its peak. Working as a researcher trying to define the mystery of the surrounding space, she wanders around smelling the past in the spaces she documents as if trying to catch ghosts and to decode Thomas Pynchon’s Gravity Rainbow.

However, what remains as an issue from Hörnschemeyer’s pseudo-archaeology is the fact that the awe that emerges from the subject of her research remains more important than her artwork. Her attempt seems to be trapped in the vicious circle of the theorem of Hugo Boss, who had designed the SS uniforms commissioned by Heinrich Himmler. Nowadays, bearing in mind all that has happened before, a question arises: is the awe that has been evoked up to now by the sight of the uniforms of the SS due to the knowledge of their deeds or is it due to Boss’ talents as a designer? Hörnschemeyer’s observation, as with the observation of any phenomena, becomes part of the subject under examination and the relationship between documentation and perception always refers to an uneasy balance, no matter what the intentions of those involved might be. In short, Hörnschemeyer’s continuous documentation tries to ‘deconstruct’ the point of the needle of the 20th century and I don’t really think that a collection of photographs is always enough to do that.

In May 1945 Wernher von Braun, together with his brother Magnus, managed to surrender to the Americans who were marching among the ruins of the Third Reich and were taken to the United States where von Braun worked for NASA until 1972 together with many other colleagues from Peenemünde. Von Braun sent the man to the moon and was made a hero by the American government. But the most interesting statistic from the time his research centre operated in the Baltic remains the fact that the use of V2 rockets against enemies cost 7,000 lives, while another 20,000 people died at the centre during their development and construction.

The feeling that one gets from Hörnschemeyer’s photographs is what Paul Celan succeeded in condensing in one verse: ‘Der Tod ist ein Meister aus Deutschland’ (Death is a master from Germany).


Panagiotis Loukas is an artist.

Translated by Evangelia Ledaki.