Sebastian Helling på Bukowskis

Sebastian Helling (f. 1975) är en av de nya norska ”vilda” konstnärerna som de senaste tio åren gjort sig internationella namn och syns på konstens främsta arenor. På Bukowskis visas 49 nya verk. 



Sedan 2010 anordnar Bukowskis egna utställningar, grupp- eller separatvisningar och Sebastian Helling blir den femte. Det blir en chans för publiken att för första gången möta konstnären, vars kreativa rötter hämtar lika delar högspänd energi från norsk expressionism från Munch till Bjarne Melgaard som från nattlivet i Oslo och sin generations populärkultur.

-   En Primary på Bukowskis ska vara som en inkörsport till den samtida konstscenen för en maximalt bred publik. Det ska vara toppkvalitet och inträdet är gratis för alla. Dessutom har prisbilden inte hunnit skena iväg ännu, säger Ebba von Baumgarten, Primary-ansvarig på Bukowskis.

Målningarna är i monumentalstorlek 200 x 180 cm, utförda 2010 – 2012. Samtliga målningar är till salu. Verken säljs till fasta priser, ink moms. För att anmäla intresse för specifika verk, kontakta Ebba von Baumgarten, 08 614 08 92.

Norsk samtida konst har på senare år tagit ett sjumilakliv, både på hemmaplan och internationellt. Sebastian Helling tillhör samma generation och kretsar som bland andra Nina Beier, Matias Faldbakken, Fredrik Verslev och Gardar Eide Einasson.

Sebastian Helling bor och arbetar i Oslo.  Han har en master från The Royal College of Art in London och erhöll MFA från Statens Kunstakademi in Oslo.  Han har haft separatutställningar på Christian Torp, Oslo, 2011, Dortmund Bodega, Oslo, 2011, Podium, Oslo, 2010, och med Arild Tveito på Galleri Annen Etage, Oslo, 2009.  Han har också deltagit i ett stort antal grupputställningar, exempelvis  på National Gallery of Art in Oslo, OCA (Office for Contemporary Art Norway),  Johan Berggren Gallery, Malmö, 2010 och "A Science of Friendship," med Gardar Eide Einasson och Matias Faldbakken (curerad av Peter J. Amdam) på Carl Kostyal Space, London, 2011. 


Memory is the movement. Counter- intuitively one could perhaps infer that Sebastian Helling’s paintings, drawings, scrawlings, marrings, scribbles, colorings, soilings, scratchings, all are some sort of memory in motion. Not only do the rapid strokes and factures instantiate kinetics, movements and lines of flight in their own right—the works that spring forth from Helling’s intense, relentless and compulsive working sessions in his studio do themselves bring the force, or, rather a play of forces, of visceral, non-cognitive, and purely musical memories into the sensation of the present—the realization of the material present.

What could this implicate? Helling himself is almost violently emphatic that his work is structured like music and further, that while painting his brain is being disconnected. Body, arms, fingers, feet, spinal column, knees, collarbones interface directly with the medium and materiality of the surrounding paint, canvas, wall, paper, studio floor, color. Put differently, painting itself reconfigures and decodes the very programs and protocols on which it depends and logs onto different and non-cognitive mnemonic reservoirs and containers.

One is led to think of something jazz musician Ornette Coleman once said in an interview (curiously enough conducted by Jacques Derrida), when asked about the nature of improvisation, namely that “[w]hat's exciting is the memory that you bring to the present.” Music is what happens when something is played and- re-interpreted in the then and there of it’s very performance. In Helling’s case one could point to the artist’s virtuous skill set as a cliff diver for instance. That is, cliff diving in a more non-organized, off Broadway, free style form, where the lines and patterns of the dive follows an heterodox improvisation rather than tradition, and the impact on the sea’s surface is not one of linear grace one sees in Olympic pools, but crawled and hurled together in an almost disfigured posture at the last possible nanosecond before the potentially deadly impact. In Norwegian street slang this kind of cliff diving is referred to as “å dødse”(as infinite verb)—which literally translated would read as “to deads” in English. Cy Twombly hurled through the air, and to the ground. Perhaps is this analogue to Helling’s approach to painting as well. All the while his subtle and sometimes flawless way with marks, lines and colors brings to mind the pastoral calm and sacrosanct aura of both classical and modernist painting Helling always make his paintings “fall” so to speak, he brings them down, into what is something of a precarious and disfigured impact. A worldly impact. The paint tubes cast in bronze one can see on the floor somehow testify to this de-elevation of the admittedly masculine posturing of the large scale and violent canvases on the wall. In no ways geared towards death, as evidenced by his sometimes inclusion of his own son, Syd’s, pencil marks and brush strokes in his pictures, there is rather an array of vitalisms at work.

The memories Helling’s painting bring to the present are material, visceral, and of the (musical) body. If one wants to improvise Deleuze and Guattari’s famous maxim—“philosophy is the creation of concepts”—one could screechingly mutate it into something like this: to Helling painting is the creation of memory.