The repellent beauty of artist Pamela Rosenkranz (2024)

Ms. Rosenkranz, you grew up in the countryside, in the canton of Uri and then in Spiez. What does that mean to you?

I was born in Altdorf and then spent only a year in Flüelen, but Uri has remained a very important place for my family. We moved around a lot. I also lived in Zurich for a while, where I later returned after stops in Amsterdam and New York. My dear grandmother recently passed away in Flüelen, where she was born and lived her whole life. I find it a beautiful and interesting area.

Why is that?

Because of its history, the change it has experienced and the myths that surround it. Uri has changed from a very poor, simple canton into a place for wealthy people, who are attracted by the tax policy. Then there is the special light. It is very visual. Narrow and shady, but then the wind comes and opens up the sky, and everything is bright again.

Your mother is a physiotherapist, your father a lawyer. What do you think of when you remember your childhood?

My childhood was quite informal and didn’t include much art. My mother is very nature-oriented and has a great deal of knowledge about the body. This has shaped me and my art to this day. As a child, I often drew and read. My parents had lots of books, but I didn't really know what art was. That's probably not typical for a middle-class family, but my parents worked a lot. We almost never went to museums. Instead we spent time out in nature and in the mountains. At some point, my mother told me that I had been to a Klee exhibition in kindergarten. Which is funny, because I had an ambivalent relationship with Klee. For a long time I didn't like his paintings. It was only later that I understood the emotionality and openness in his art.

That means that you can’t remember the exhibition.

No. But perhaps it was working in my subconscious. Today I think he's brilliant.

What books have left a strong impression on you?

Unfortunately, I no longer read as much literature as I used to. As a teenager, I read all sorts of things: novels, biographies, plenty of classics. Kafka often makes me laugh, although he is of course tragic as well. I think that as an artist, I had a different perspective on stories. For me, it's always about the pictures. During my studies, philosophy also became important: Arendt, Nietzsche, Sontag and above all Deleuze and Guattari, with their concept of the «rhizome.» My reading has become a kind of rhizomatic research as the internet has become denser and more extensive.

Do you explore the internet strategically, or do you also allow yourself to get lost?

A bit of both. As an artist, I also want to feel the experience: What does the internet do to us? How does it change people? The blue-wave light from the screen influences us. It keeps us awake longer. I addressed this in part in my work «Alien Blue.»

The internet is also seen as a dumbing-down machine for children. My impression is that you have a rather positive approach.

I am also very critical when it comes to children. The internet has great potential, but it is also dangerous.

What do you find dangerous?

The internet is full of false truths. It allows others to profit from our naiveté. And children are even more vulnerable than we are. The question is also how the internet changes our ability to think, to remember and to be creative. Children today can barely write by hand and often have poor spelling as a result. Skills that I find important are being lost. Fortunately, my son has already noticed that he learns new words faster if he writes them down by hand.

When did you discover that what you do is art?

That came with all the drawing and, actually, probably just with the aptitude. At some point I realized that there was a preliminary course on design, and I took it. That was a great year, because I was just drawing and painting and was able to try out all artistic disciplines. That was not really encouraged at my school. But from that point on, it was clear to me that there was only one path I wanted to take.

Your professor said about your final thesis at the Bern University of the Arts: «This is some of the worst art I've ever seen!» What did you think at the time?

That perhaps for the professor making a dramatic impression was more important in that moment than offering a real artistic assessment of the project. This comment was preceded by a dispute about my work, followed by this rather German, overdramatic form of judgment. So for me, the situation was surprising and slightly upsetting, but also just interesting.

It didn’t make you doubt yourself?

No, not at all. And shortly afterward, the same work was purchased by the Kunstmuseum Bern.

In 2006, you met the French American artist Louise Bourgeois in New York, and later referred to this as a formative encounter. Why did you describe it that way?

Louise Bourgeois was already 96 years old at the time, an icon of art. Every Sunday, she welcomed artists into her salon for a chat, accompanied by cognac. All you had to do in order to come was call first – her number was in the phone book. The conditions were that you had to bring a work of art, and you couldn't have a cold. Bourgeois is known for having had strong feelings, and also some aggression. I found her to be energetic, but not at all self-centered. She leafed through the book of my work I had brought with me, and said on every single page that I was very self-confident.

Did that surprise you?

Until then, I hadn't realized how self-confident I actually was, at least in terms of art.

What changed with this encounter?

For me as a young woman, it was the most important encounter I had with an artist. It had to do with the whole atmosphere. I had an amazing figure from art history in front of me, and she radiated this energy. She confronted me, and that's the kind of attention you rarely get. As an art student, you usually don't get much attention at all. At least that was my experience. You are working and have no audience. She took me very seriously, and told me not to take myself so seriously, but at the same time she seemed to admire me. It was a special moment.

When it became known that you were representing Switzerland at the 2015 Venice Biennale, you were very much in the news. «Pamela Rosenkranz is the new star in the Swiss art firmament,» newspapers wrote. Or: «Charmed career of a charming beauty.» What was all this attention like for you?

I can’t really relate to such labels. The time around the Biennale was very intense. I wanted to realize an incredibly large and challenging installation, and at the same time I was expected to provide the media with material. There were even requests for visits to my home and so on. I was rather disappointed with some of the articles. For example, Die Zeit published a text after I met with them in which several things were simply wrong. The career ladder that was outlined in the story didn't have much to do with reality. But back then, it was still a bit suspicious if you had such success as a young woman. I probably should have had some of the facts corrected.

That was almost 10 years ago. Why didn't you do it?

There were then also other texts that balanced out the picture somewhat, and the article had already been rewritten many times.

It seems that you generally don’t like labels. You have even described yourself as «unpathetically identityless.» Does such a thing even exist?

No, but one can set it as an ideal. I want to be free from limitations, judgments and beliefs. I would like to think about what a person is, beyond common categories or labels. I am interested in the human aspect in and of itself, and that is often very complex.

Does that mean you don't like being called a woman, Swiss or a mother?

When I make art, I work with experience, feeling and intellect. And of course I've been shaped by my experience. But that doesn't mean that I'm limited or simply understood.

Articles about you often present the image of a highly talented artist who has planned her rise with cool strategy, intelligence, talent and networking. Do you recognize yourself in such descriptions?

No, that doesn’t fit at all. I think I just didn't let myself get in my own way, because I really wanted to show art.

For you, how important is valuation by the art market?

It has no meaning at all.

That's easy for you to say, as it's no longer an existential question.

I wouldn't say that. It remains a source of some anxiety. Pulling together large installations is still a challenge.

In other words, you have not yet become rich with art.

No. I might have to paint more.

Painting gives you security?

I think it would be easier. I am not a non-painter. But it was difficult for me to accept painting at first because it is so classic, so natural, and everyone likes it. Today, I'm seeing a much more exciting kind of engagement there than in the past.

Your artistic approach is often discussed in the context of speculative realism. Do you agree with that?

It's not wrong. For me, the awareness of how physical and biological processes influence thinking and art is central. This kind of creative, free thinking must have space. Speculation is a strategy that I also use. Ultimately, it's about artistic freedom. What I do doesn't have to be right. I can ask: What if? Perhaps we will find out something that is new and important, or at least interesting.

In this spirit, you and a researcher from EPF Lausanne developed a robotic snake called «Healer.» Can we see the snake?

No, unfortunately «Healer» is not here. There are actually three snakes. Each has a different skin. Depending on where it originated, each has a different color and transparency.

How did you come up with the idea?

I have studied the symbolism of snakes, but also the history of snakes in the biosystem. The snake is one of the oldest symbols: It stands for life and death, for health. At the same time, the second-best-selling drug – a blood thinner – is made from snake venom. But I'm also interested in people's encounters with a snake that isn't actually a snake at all. The Healer moves like a real snake, side-winding across the floor. This movement evokes our instinct: Snake, dangerous, watch out! However, Healer doesn't move continuously. It is programmed to be like a real animal that only moves at certain intervals. People sometimes wait very impatiently.

And think: «When will it finally move?»

Yes, there were even complaints in some museums that the snake wasn't working anymore. Which wasn't true at all. This snake reads electromagnetic radiation – including our cell phones – and that influences the algorithm. In one version, based on the translation of the exhibition text, people thought they had to make noises with their cell phones, for example play a song, and then the snake would move. This made the audience's encounter with Healer even more interactive. It's not just about a 1.2 meter robot snake. The art is not the snake by itself. It's about what happens to it, around it and to us.

Is it important to you that the audience is familiar with the ideas and thoughts behind your works?

If people are interested, I think it's nice. But a work of art must also be able to stand on its own. It must work – whether visually, with scent or sound – without explanations.

Skin is one of your leitmotifs. For the Biennale, you built a huge tank filled with a liquid that had the color of a «standardized northern European skin tone,» and engaged visitors with an attractive and a repulsive smell. What is it about skin that fascinates you?

I'm interested in the surface of human appearance. The skin is also in a sense the quintessence of humanity. In advertising, they have discovered that as more area is devoted to skin colors such as this, the ad is perceived as being more appealing. Our red interior shines through the membrane. I am currently studying the skin color of reptiles and fish, which have completely different colors.

Market research also plays a role in your art.

Yes, exactly. Statistics in general. But I don't take the statistics as evidence, but as inspiration. Our living spaces are shaped by advertising, which is why we should explore and understand it as our new «nature.» Just look around, and it is easy to see that skin is omnipresent.

You also fill water bottles, including PET bottles from the Fiji brand, with a skin-colored silicone mixture. A rather bizarre brand, when you consider how far the water is transported.

It is a water that raises good questions. And that's why I chose it. It shows how the economic system works, how we function and how people create meaning. The best way to do this is to take a look at the fascinating history of healing water. Fiji also promises that its water «never meets the compromised air of the 21st century.» The water is filled in such a way that no air gets in. It is therefore suggested that the water is absolutely pure. However, the liquid becomes contaminated again, at least by the PET bottles of the 21st century, and ultimately microresidues of the plastic end up in our bodies.

You have also taken Viagra for paintings. Did the potency pill for men have any significant effect?

As a healthy person, you don't feel much. However, there is the placebo effect. The painting was also a performance in which I, as an artist working expressively on a large format, wanted to feel – and present myself as – virile. The colors include all the shades I could find on a human body. That is my palette.

And Viagra actually made you feel more virile?

It seems so.

Your Old Tree in New York has attracted a lot of attention. What was the idea behind this work?

The city lacks trees. But I didn't just want to put up a tree. I designed the Old Tree as if it had grown from human tissue. I wanted to create a confrontation with a humanlike tree in the midst of a big city's congestion. The tree has a color that could also come from the inside of a human being. In its pink hue, it is intended to attract and repel, to be beautiful and eerie at the same time.

Attracting and repelling, this double effect is important to you. Why is that?

I am very interested in beauty. But you can only gain enough distance if you are also repelled by it at the same time. That helps you think about it.

You also developed a sneaker for Swiss sportswear brand On. Did you have any reservations about putting your art at the service of a brand in this way?

No, I am very inspired by brands. Like water bottles, they provide material for me. I was particularly interested in the shoe: It is a technical shape for our feet. I designed the sneaker in connection with the Old Tree, so it too has branches or veins resembling the inside of our body.

Your work subtly addresses the contrast between artificiality and naturalness. Is there a difference?

I find it interesting to say that such a boundary doesn’t exist, that everything is natural. Artificiality suggests that there is something that is outside of nature. But that doesn't exist. We can actually only create natural things.

Do you really believe that?

The idea inspires me.

Is there art if there is no artificiality?

Art is natural. As intelligent beings, humans can create art, at least when things are going reasonably well for them.

What attracted you to show your art in the context of the NZZ?

I want to see how the images and the content combine. I don't yet know what the newspaper will look like on the day of publication, what news and headlines it will contain. How does art work with the newspaper's power to define the truth? We will see. The pictures are selected so that anything can happen.

Do you read the newspaper?

I try to read as many different media as possible, and as little as possible at the same time. I pay attention to current affairs, but not too much. If I let myself get too involved, it wouldn't be productive. I also have a certain amount of doubt as to whether truth can be produced with language.

The newspaper presents and evaluates the present. My impression is that you are trying to avoid judgment with your art.

I hope that's the case, yes.

Why don't you want to pass judgment?

Because I want to create something open. That's precisely why I became an artist.

Are you not comfortable with political art?

Becoming an artist is a political decision. But I don't want to play politics with art itself. I want to be free, and to be able to ask big questions. Not saying what people should be like, but asking what humanity actually is.