Sgrafo vs. Fat Lava

A collection of German ceramics hovering between kitsch and bizarre on exhibition at the Galerie Kreo.

The story of this vase collection, which the exhibit can recount only partially, is in some ways less cheap and paradoxical than the objects themselves. With its conceptual assumptions, it recalls (unfortunately almost a carbon copy) one of the most famous ceramics pieces of the 20th century, the Fountain by Robert Mutt made for the Armory Show. These industrial products are intentionally chosen for their inferior design quality for which only a sociological essay and intelligent exhibition design provide huge media exposure to upgrade them from economy to business class.

To judge the quality of ceramics, it is usually necessary to pick up the artefact and, after having appreciated its form, turn it over perhaps to verify its author, trademarks and/or manufacturers. This is done with the most ancient and valuable Chinese vases as well as with products from Picasso to Greyson Perry. More often, from Sevrès to Vallauris, one can appreciate the materials used and the specificity of textures, even in the highly competitive production from the postwar years until the 1980s in the two Germanies, whether regarding anonymous or renowned designers. For at least a decade, ceramics has again become, in contrast with its classical nature, a new medium that is at the center of the attention of contemporary art and its market.
Sgrafo Modern, Korallenvase series, design Peter Müller, 1960–70. Photo © Olivier Pasqual. Courtesy Nicolas Trembley.
Sgrafo Modern, Korallenvase series, design Peter Müller, 1960–70. Photo © Olivier Pasqual. Courtesy Nicolas Trembley.
The exhibit's premise is, however, completely different and, in some ways, emblematic of contemporary taste, indicating, in the apotheosis of the cheap glaze, indifference bordering on pathological interest. The viewer can recognize the unconscious attraction of this repertoire of banal biomorphic forms (1950s and '70s) ; and, curiously, the victory of the symbolism of the concept store, lying at the origin of this show organized by the Paris publisher Kreo (after stops in Geneva and the Frac Champagne- Ardenne in Reims) with the successful gamble by the eclectic and daring Parisian curator, Nicolas Trembley.
Scheurich KG, blue floor vases, 1970. Photo © Olivier Pasqual. Courtesy Nicolas Trembley.
Scheurich KG, blue floor vases, 1970. Photo © Olivier Pasqual. Courtesy Nicolas Trembley.
Almost the work of a latter-day des Esseintes, jealous of his girlfriends' vintage shopping on E-bay, as he narrates in a short text, he began to collect these gaudy objects almost as much for their ugliness as for their price. From €1 and €50 each at the beginning, in a short time he found himself with a collection of nearly 150 pieces of great visual impact but with a commercial value that was almost ridiculous. However, like a fairy tale or a Dada prank, the KERAFINA, ROYAL KPM piece from the collection that is, quite frankly, rather ugly, closed the Domino show at Florence Bonnefous' Air de Paris gallery. Here, with the exponential power, enthusiasm and excitement of the French touch of the now moribund aesthetic of rue Louis Weiss, the fate of the ceramic gewgaw changed its meaning. Midas, the king, recalls media: the publisher.
Steuler Industriewerke GmbH, Zyklon series, design Cari Zalloni, 1970. Photo © Olivier Pasqual. Courtesy Nicolas Trembley.
Steuler Industriewerke GmbH, Zyklon series, design Cari Zalloni, 1970. Photo © Olivier Pasqual. Courtesy Nicolas Trembley.
With the care taken by the owner of Galerie Kreo, Didier Krentowsky, these simulacra of antidesign bring the promise of a show and the start of a beatification process. As they grow in quantity, and with Trembley's compulsive buying, their appeal and value are transformed. The secret is very simple and does not reside in ceramics' techniques but in the fact that the objects are much more beautiful in their photographic relationship with the public than in their real life. The misunderstood comparison with Morandi's still lifes is obvious and total: he is truly the master of minimal sensibility, whereas here, the mise en scène is really indebted to a feuilleton aesthetic. The surprised public is like a bull in a china shop, transformed into voyeur and accomplice of a success-story based on a kitsch mash-up. There are all the defects, horrors and the typical quality of today's art system that is in the grips of the "doping" and humour that characterize our century. The same items in your grandmother's kitchen would bring a different thrill, but since it is a private collection belonging to one of today's most original and contemporary dandy/writers, we must add other credits to the plot of this long story while waiting to see them for sale at a more prestigious auction house: a text by Ronan Bouroullec, a booklet by the prestigious publisher JP-Ringhier and advice to read the text by Horst-Markus—a true postwar German ceramics specialist.
Ivo Bonacorsi
Bay Keramik, 1970. Photo © Olivier Pasqual. Courtesy Nicolas Trembley.
Bay Keramik, 1970. Photo © Olivier Pasqual. Courtesy Nicolas Trembley.

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