ORF, Treffpunkt Kultur, 3. November, um 22.30 Uhr, Barbara Rett prasentiert:
Gottfried Helnwein: Der Maler und sein Holocaust-Mahnmal für L.A.
Ein Film von Claudia Teissig.
Schock-Therapeut: Gottfried Helnwein
50 Jahre nach der Reichspogrom-Nacht - im November 1988 - ließ Österreichs Schockmaler Gottfried Helnwein vor dem Kölner Dom auf eigene Kosten eine Galerie des Schreckens errichten. Hundert Meter lang, jedes der Bilder vier Meter hoch: Fotos von Vier- bis Achtjährigen - der Tod in ihre bleichen Gesichter geschrieben. Kaum war die Bilderstraße errichtet, kam es zu den ersten Beschädigungen. Nun stellt Helnwein seine künstlerische Auseinandersetzung mit dem Holocaust in seiner Wahlheimat Los Angeles aus. Dort fühlt Helnwein sich am "äußersten Punkt im Prozess des Untergangs des Abendlandes" angekommen - und sieht die Stadt als Herausforderung. Für 2004 bereitet er eine große Retrospektive in Pekings "verbotener Stadt" vor. TREFFPUNKT KULTUR hat den Maler in L.A. besucht. ...

Der Beitrag über Gottfried Helnwein berichtet über die "Fotogalerie des Schreckens", die Österreichs Schockmaler Helnwein 1988, 50 Jahre nach der Reichspogromnacht, vor dem Kölner Dom auf eigene Kosten errichten ließ: 100 Meter lang, jedes der Bilder vier Meter hoch. Sie zeigen Kinder, zwischen vier und acht Jahre alt, und der Tod steht ihnen in ihre bleichen Gesichter geschrieben. Kaum war die Bilderstraße errichtet, kam es zu den ersten Beschädigungen. Nun stellt Helnwein seine künstlerische Auseinandersetzung mit dem Holocaust in Los Angeles aus. Dort, in seiner Wahlheimat, fühlt Helnwein sich am "äußersten Punkt im Prozess des Untergangs des Abendlandes" angekommen. Für 2004 bereitet er eine große Retrospektive in Pekings Verbotener Stadt vor. ...

Helnwein’s 20-by-60 foot outdoor installation “Modern Sleep 2003”, as well as photographs from his collaboration with Marilyn Manson, are included in the show, which opens with this evening’s gala and is open to the general public Friday through Sunday at Santa Monica Airport’s Barker Hangar.
“Modern Sleep 2003” (digital print) is the latest in a series dating back to the 1980s and reflects Helnwein’s use of children in questioning the human condition. It includes two images of a girl. In one, her skin is pale white, and she is dressed in black. In the other, she is black, dressed in white. In both images, her expression is death-like.
“They have open eyes, so modern sleep doesn’t mean they are just sleeping,” says Helnwein. “It might mean something else.” ...

Helnwein:
I always thought – how did I end up in a place like this? What was I doing here? The only thing I knew was that this was not home – I didn’t belong here. But who was I then? Where did I come from?
I was a stranger, whose spaceship had crashed on an unknown planet and so was stranded with no possibilities of ever leaving again. Not only did I seem to have lost my orientation through the impact of the crash, but my memory as well, because I had forgotten who I was and where I came from. There was only one thing I was certain of: that this was an alien world in whose merciless embrace I was now caught. It was like the aftermath of a sloppy end of the world, where the few people that had survived, now continued cautiously to vegetate amongst the ruins, hoping to remain unnoticed by the Eternal Judge.
What I didn’t know then was that I had been born shortly after my stupid ancestors had lost the second of the two world-wars that they had caused within the last 30 years – which had turned 1000 years of culture into ashes and annihilated the lives of more than 50 million people
And when I found the photographs of my father, my grandfathers and my uncles all in uniforms of Hitler’s army, I started to ask questions.
Unfortunately, I was speaking either in the wrong tongue or they also suffered amnesia, because I never got any answers. But I was a very insistent child and I never gave up asking, despite the fact that it didn’t get me anywhere.
And then there was this one miraculous moment when I turned 18, this instance of revelation - suddenly I knew there was a way out: I had to become an artist. And I started to paint. I didn’t know much about the art-world and other artists, and I didn’t care about styles and techniques. I just began to formulate my old questions now as images, and step by step I developed my own visual language.
But I was not prepared for the avalanche of emotional reactions that my little watercolor-paintings triggered, I was quite surprised to realize that suddenly I seemed to be in possession of a superior magic language, capable of cutting through everything and reaching deep into the hearts of people and moving and touching them. And to my amazement this nation of mutes started to talk, to respond, to shout, to cry and to whisper. And I found myself in a very emotional and powerful dialogue with a growing number of people, that never stopped and became the momentum and destiny of my life.
When I started to paint I didn’t feel I had any message, my art was not an answer – it was a question. ...

The child stares out from the publicity photos, skin white with dust and eyes expressionless. In a society fluent in the language of news media it's almost impossible not to interpret the blank face of Gottfried Helnwein's photo Child1:
it becomes a symbol of lost innocence and silent accusation.
The show this image promotes, Close Your Little Eyes, is a music theatre-installation devised by composer and director Max Lyandvert. Taking as its starting point a lullaby from the Vilnius Ghetto, it juxtaposes visual and sound images with music scored for 16-voice children's choir, string quartet and soprano soloist. ...