Michael Rakowitz
The invisible enemy should not exist
April 30–July 30, 2016
Opening: Friday, April 29, 2016, 6–9pm
Barbara Wien
gallery & art bookshop
Schöneberger Ufer 65 (3rd floor)
10785 Berlin
T +49 30 28 38 53 52
F +49 30 28 38 53 50
bw [at] barbarawien.de
During the 2003 invasion of Iraq, US-American authorities neglected to properly protect Baghdad’s National Museum of Iraq, the home of a large collection of world heritage objects. The unsecured building was looted, and approximately 15,000 objects disappeared, leaving a terrible void in the museum’s collection and the international collection of relics of human history.
For his first exhibition with Galerie Barbara Wien, Michael Rakowitz presents The invisible enemy should not exist, an ongoing project since 2007. It is a direct response to the pillage of Baghdad’s Museum, and a stirring homage to its former director, Dr. Donny George Youkhanna, who dedicated his time to recovering the missing artifacts until his death in 2011. Rakowitz’s mother’s family fled Iraq in 1946, settling in the USA. Raised in New York, the artist now lives and works in Chicago.
The project’s title is a direct translation of “Aj-ibur-shapu,” which was the name of the main processional street that passed through the Ishtar Gate in ancient Babylon. The biography of this legendary gate offers interesting parallels to Michael Rakowitz’s project, in part because its new home since its excavation in the early 20th century is reconstructed in Berlin’s Pergamon Museum.
Michael Rakowitz has also devoted himself to the creation of replicas: meticulous reproductions of the objects looted from the National Museum of Iraq. His replicas are made of papier-mâché plastered with Arabic newspapers and the packaging of Middle Eastern food products sold in the United States. Having had no personal contact with the missing objects, Rakowitz gets his information through pictures and documentation in the University of Chicago’s Oriental Institute’s database and from Interpol’s website. These makeshift relics are displayed upon an oblong table designed to recreate the trajectory of Aj-ibur-shapu.
Black and white pencil drawings annex narrative episodes and pre-existing characters to the installation, often connecting the dots in the ongoing project’s continuous unfurling. In one drawing, for instance, Dr. Donny George Youkhanna appears behind a drum, an unexpected position to the ignorant viewer. A caption tells us that the archeologist used to play in a band called “99%” which covered songs by Deep Purple and Pink Floyd. Thus, the reason for the installation’s background soundtrack becomes clearer: Michael Rakowitz commissioned a band called Ayyoub to cover Deep Purple’s “Smoke on the water” in Arabic, the ubiquitously played song of our time, which tells a story of senseless destruction and loss.
Sites of display hold great importance in Michael Rakowitz’s work. His projects are often produced for a specific place and take note of the location’s biography. For his piece May the arrogant not prevail—the title is an alternative translation of Aj-ibur shapu—he used similar techniques of recycling product packaging to reproduce the Ishtar Gate, this time from the Iraqi government’s plaster-and-wood-replica from the 1950s and then exhibited it in a group exhibition in Berlin’s Haus der Kulturen der Welt (2010).
Yet, with the ongoing project on display now, The invisible enemy should not exist, it is precisely its movability which makes it operate (1): second-hand replicas of displaced national treasures are “transformed” into contemporary art sculptures and exhibited in a commercial gallery, thereby introduced within the art market and potentially owned by collectors or institutions. When the British Museum acquired some of the project’s sculptures and displayed them within their Mesopotamian collection, it created a challenging tension. The artist plays with these different systems of value and trade with a delicious irony but also a substantive impact.
Michael Rakowitz’s commitment to fabricating the entire missing collection in papier-mâché could be seen as an almost Sisyphean labor in its absurd materiality. However, we cannot omit the cathartic process of the handmade, redeeming the undertaking from futility. The non-preciosity of his replicas somehow reveals the dreadful loss of the originals. They are evidently not strict counterfeits, but only “cheap” ghostly apparitions that paradoxically signify an absence by means of their own presence.
Text by Gauthier Lesturgie
The project has been shown among others in Lombard Freid Projects (NY, 2007), Sharjah Biennal (2007), Istanbul Biennal (2007), Modern Art Oxford, UK (2009), and Hiroshima City Museum of Contemporary Art (2013).
