The project was realized with the support
of the Yurii Stashkiv Foundation
‘ChervoneChorne’ as part of the
of the a_brucke residency
The project was made possible by the
the support of the Künstlerhof Frohnau
in providing works by
Dieter Ruckhaberle for the exhibition
The Face of the Eye (Artists: Dieter Ruckhaberle, Yuri Leiderman, Volodymyr Budnikov, Bernhard Vogt, Vlada Ralko)
«Whoever does not break the act of looking sees nothing»
(Cees Nooteboom, The Face of the Eye, 1989)
To witness something with one’s own eyes might seem the ultimate, unassailable proof. He who trusts his vision might believe himself capable of testifying to the truth of an event. And yet, Kierkegaard’s remark comes as a quiet, persistent warning: Truth exists only in so far as the individual produces it himself. Beneath the blazing sun of the obvious, one is easily blinded, for what we call commonplaces are often barren—emptied like pastures overgrazed by cattle. A scrutinizing gaze transforms what is seen into abstraction. Yet, language (be it Ukrainian, English, or otherwise) reminds us that to see is to understand. Indeed, that which threatens our deeply held certainties, we label as unseen or even impossible. This is, in truth, a form of evasion, for what we deem unimaginable is often simply too radical to accept. It compels us to shut our eyes before it can burn itself onto our retina, forever altering the familiar contours of reality. Thus, the act of truly seeing implicates us. One cannot remain a mere witness; to see is to be present, to participate. It demands that we act, or refrain from acting, with both choices exerting their influence. Either we embrace the responsibility of existing within the context of what is seen, or we retreat into the comfort of chosen blindness.
The selected statements of artists, drawn not only from eras of near and distant wars—be they cold or hot—but also from those realms where ethics, politics, and culture coalesce into the sole viable ground for the human gaze, underscore this imperative. Human existence itself is sustained by the retina, that fragile, ever-shifting grid of coordinates that must be renewed time and again. The eye blinks into the abyss of hell, seeking ruptures in the darkness in order to glimpse light. The impatient eye of Orpheus. The helpless blindness of the human creature, where vision contracts into the animal instinct of pursuing a goal. The eye of the black sun. The revelation of an eye turned inward, returning home to itself. Seeing as the risk of love. Gazing as the choice to confront one’s own nature as an individual who produces truth.
Vlada Ralko, Curator of the exhibition
(Translation by Valeriia Plekhotko)
Valeriia Pliekhotko, Tanya Stas
Gazing as Protest
The Face of the Eye is an exhibition curated by Vlada Ralko that brings together her own works alongside those of Volodymyr Budnikov, Bernhard Vogt, Dieter Ruckhaberle, and Yuri Leiderman. The main goal of this project was to explore the phenomenon of the human ability to see, to feel, and to empathize with one’s historical moment. “My dear, the world is such that it is often better not to see it at all.” This is how Aunt Nunzia addresses her nearly blind niece in the short story Glasses from the collection The Sea Does Not Wash Naples by Anna Maria Ortese. This quote haunted us throughout the preparation of the exhibition The Face of the Eye. What is this incredible ability of neurons to transform the visual into the intellectual?! A gift that formed our civilization, or a curse that has led humanity into the abyss of catastrophes, wars, and epidemics for centuries?
The works chosen by Vlada for the exhibition were created by artists in different periods, from the Cold War to the wars of today. They are brought together in the space of a single project, confronting the viewer with a sense of inevitability and horror at the loss of the historical moment when everything could still be fixed, turned for the better, and when humanity could still avert the curse of its own existence.
But history will never be different, and at the moment we are finishing this text, battles are still ongoing in Ukraine, Parastu Ahmadi, a singer from Iran, faces a lawsuit for performing without a hijab during a concert streamed on YouTube, in Sakartvelo (Georgia) there was an inauguration ceremony for Mikheil Kavlashvili, the new "president," who is not recognized by the current head of state Salome Zurabishvili, the opposition, and thousands of citizens protesting against the pro-Russian course of the new ruling party, Georgian Dream, and there are thousands of events that take one’s breath away and fill one with a sense of helplessness, a desire to hide, to not read, to not hear, to not see. For with knowledge comes the feeling of helplessness before reality. But after helplessness comes humility, and after humility — death. And thus, vision becomes not just an indifferent act of observation, but one of the possible acts of "non-reconciliation." As long as we gaze into reality, we nurture in ourselves "rebellion," the desire for change, the aspiration for a better world. And it is precisely in this that the value of the exhibition The Face of the Eye lies, as it reminds the viewer that the act of gazing itself is already a protest, for vision is an act of non-reconciliation, and where there is non-reconciliation, there will be no death, because it inevitably leads to action.