Nathalie Djurberg
Reviewed by Valentina Sansone
Nathalie Djurberg, It’s the Mother, 2008. Courtesy of the artist and Fondazione Prada, Milan.
Sergej Prokofiev’s Peter and the Wolf is a work that is difficult to forget, basically for two reasons. Its uniqueness lies above all in the power of its means. The deep sounds of the trumpets, wind instruments and organs unexpectedly give the story a new voice. The second reason is in some ways also a consequence of the above and lies in the direction that our imagination takes from this point onwards, from when our imagination releases itself.
Such a feeling, a sense of excitement that takes over fantastic places and characters that inhabit our personal imagery, permeates Nathalie Djurberg’s videos. The exhibition at the Fondazione Prada, that recently presented its new venue, a polyvalent centre for arts designed by Rem Koolhaas, which is expected to open in Milan in 2011, 15 years after the Foundation’s first show, brings together recent videos within this vast retrospective dedicated to the young Swedish artist. Most importantly, and if compared to the Foundation’s previous exhibitions (such as the solo shows of Tobias Rehberger or Tom Sachs), this choice surprised the city’s contemporary art public which expected a more mature artist (in terms of age), without taking into consideration Djurberg’s exceptional curriculum. Yet the impression given was not that of a precise statement by the institution, asserting a shift in favour of young artists. Instead, it seemed more comprehensible if one looked at the mechanism of the art system.
Unexpectedly, the gallery space is partially covered by felt at the entrance hall while the fabric completely covers the walls of the gallery space, where a series of statues is also placed: a small house that brings to mind that of Hansel and Gretel and a big fat woman who reminds us of Niki de Saint Phalle, showing massive buttocks and strong calves, with her head deep in the floor.
Indeed, Djurberg has never loved painting, as she herself admits, and had instead studied sculpture at the Academy of Gothenburg. In fact, the sculptures are not far from the Swedish artist’s imagery, but they expand towards a more playful and fun atmosphere, more relaxed if compared to the sorrow shown in her videos. We are not Two We are One, 2008, materialises with extreme subtleness the feeling of possession and malaise that follows a sentimental relationship enforcing the condition of dependency, physical addiction even. The tactile experience in Djurberg’s work derives from Bataille, but the rawness of her disillusioned language is inspired by Ferdinand Celine’s words.
Putting Down the Pray shows some underwater shots in an almost cinematic sequence. The videos on show are all from 2007 and 2008, but Jag sysslar givetvis med trolleri, 2007, seems like an early animation. The study of the body though, suggests those elements of destruction common to Turn Into Me. The reference to a relationship of vicious addiction with sexuality is more legible in It’s the Mother which, such as Feed All the Hungry Little Children, shows a woman forced to sacrifice her body and even her liquids. Djurberg appropriates, assimilates and digests the most wretched/miserable aspects of human nature, shifting from disgust to a religious and mystical relationship with the characters. They are languid and morbid and feed on promiscuity that inhabits repressed fantasies and desires without extreme hypocrisies or tones.
Valentina Sansone is managing editor of Flash Art International.