“Gelatin Gelitin Gelintin,” the most extensive showcase of the Austrian art collective Gelitin (Ali Janka, Florian Reither, Tobias Urban, and Wolfgang Gantner) in Asia to date, opens this week at Galerie Perrotin Hong Kong.The exhibition traces the development of an eclectic career that dates all the way back to Vienna in the mid-1990s. With a flippant, irreverent approach that might be said to represent a humorous send-up of relational aesthetics, Gelitin has a particular penchant for performative and documentary happenings, as well as contemporary reprises of classic historical artworks.The works on display include the collective's Mona Lisa series, which consists of dramatically distorted likenesses of the iconic figure in plasticine on wood; “Falling Sculptures” that fall onto the floor when a lever is pushed; and a newly-released documentary by Angela Christlieb that looks back on some of Gelitin’s most audacious performances.On the eve of the opening, BLOUIN ARTINFO spoke with Gelitin to find out more about the upcoming exhibition, their motivations and ongoing concerns, and the delicate balance of humor, irony, and critical commentary in their practice.Your “Falling Sculptures” play off a very fundamental fear and taboo — that artworks are precious, fragile, and expensive, and that galleries are hushed places where reverence and measured movements are demanded. Do you find the art world a less precious (pretentious) place today as compared to when you first started out?The art world is, and has always been, a precious place — and we love to work in this precious arena. In 2007, we took part in the exhibition “Hamsterwheel” at the Venice Biennale, and our enormous structure collapsed on a work by Rachel Harrison, causing some of its parts to break. And we thought, oh dear. It collapsed on an artwork, and not a person.In the falling sculpture, visitors step on the pedal sticking out of the pedestal that tips the sculpture off its pedestal. Some slide down, some tumble, some look like they faint, and many of them change their shape or break upon impact with the floor. When is the artwork most precious? When it is just tipping over, when it is in free fall, when it is crashing onto the floor and being deformed, or when there is the possibility of putting it back on the pedestal by the excited or surprised viewer who set the process in motion?Some of your works, in retrospect, are uncannily timed. “The B-Thing,” for example, documents a performance where you remove a window from the 91st floor of the World Trade Center in New York, attach a balcony to the facade, and stand outside the building for a short time — this was in March 2000, a little more than a year before 9/11. Have you ever made works which you've regretted afterwards, or which acquire a completely different meaning in retrospect?We have never regretted an artwork afterwards, and the artwork does not care if we regret it or not. Hopefully, one is entitled to make mistakes too!Artworks also change meaning over time. We had an exhibition opening at Leo König Gallery on Broadway, not far from the World Trade Center, on September 11, 2001 with pictures from our “B-thing.” We took the pictures down, however, and decided to show them at a later time, because of the sensational context that can blind you.Are there any taboos or no-go zones in your work? Or would you say that Gelitin embraces a complete and utter irreverence that doesn't believe in any taboos or cultural sensitivities whatsoever?Sure, we have taboos. We would not hit children, or force anyone to do anything that they don't want to do. Other than that, we are not so concerned with taboos. We try to follow the logic of an artwork and do what it thinks is necessary.We are artists and we have to be responsible in this way. We are not doing artworks to “break” taboos. When it happens, it is an unintended side effect.In your experience, does the prevailing culture of political correctness (or relative lack thereof) in different countries affect how local audiences receive and understand your work? In Hong Kong, for instance, or elsewhere in East Asia, do you think that your sense of satire and humor translates well?Every audience is different. Sometimes they understand, and other times they misunderstand. But if you make a good work, it also touches something universal that everybody can anticipate.The most difficult and the most misunderstood exhibitions that we have presented were the ones that we realized in Vienna, where we are based. Nonetheless, the art scene in Vienna is very good and diverse. We like the Viennese contemporary art scene, and enjoy practicing within this context.“Gelatin Gelitin Gelintin” runs from July 7 through August 20 at Galerie Perrotin Hong Kong.
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