Weißer Regen ( White Rain),2024
"The Federal Republic of Germany is one thing, the German Democratic Republic is another, a completely different thing. As long as there are hostilities and aggressions from over there, we must keep the enemy image alive."
—Karl-Eduard von Schnitzler, Chief Commentator on East German television, Schwarzer Kanal, 16th October 1989.
My visit to Potsdam and the Russian Colony in the spring of 2023 stirred unexpected nostalgia within me. The wooden houses, fruit orchards, and aroma of Russian cuisine took me back to childhood, yet this nostalgia clashed with my deep disillusionment over the Russian invasion of Ukraine and President Putin's actions. Walking through the Russian colony "Alexandrowka," built in 1826 by King Friedrich Wilhelm III in memory of his friend Alexander I, I felt an eerie sense of confusion.The Chekhovian atmosphere, combined with the blooming orchards, evoked a deep resonance with the world of Russian literature. Authors like Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, and Chekhov, alongside Kyrgyz writer Chingiz Aitmatov, captivated us with their tales of human struggle and resilience. Soviet literature was not just a cultural influence but also a tool for ideological and political education. It reinforced socialist values and cemented our connection to the Soviet Union.
We were taught to see our Soviet "class brothers" as friends, while the West was cast as the enemy of socialism, a dichotomy that fuelled nationalist fervour and loyalty to the socialist state. When such enemy images become state doctrine, they enforce strict rules of behaviour. They create a narrative of good versus evil, right versus wrong, friend versus enemy—especially in a totalitarian state. These narratives establish norms and rules that everyone must follow to avoid being labelled as enemies themselves. In socialism, enemy images serve not as guidance but as dictates.
The principle is clear: “Whoever is not with us is against us”.
In response, I began destroying books by Soviet authors I had once cherished. This act of vandalism inspired the title Weißer Regen (White Rain), borrowed from Aitmatov's collection of short stories. In his work, white rain symbolises purity, renewal, and the erosion of traditional ways of life. Using white paint to obscure the original content, I explore the idea of whitewashing—covering up or erasing history. Projecting slides of gamma radiation used during civil defence training onto the backdrop of rolled paper represents the military indoctrination that began in childhood. Images of chemical warfare’s effects on the human body serve as stark reminders.
Weißer Regen explores the tension between personal nostalgia, disillusionment, and the manipulation of memory, highlighting how truth is altered and forgotten.
Option 1: image size 80X60cm, Giclée ink jet print on INNOVA White Matte 285g mounted on dibond, and installed with split batten fixings, giving the prints a floating appearance on the wall
Option 2: involves fabricating of frames measuring 80 x 60 cm, each containing 400 paper rolls made from book pages, arranged in rows on the frame. Together, these rolls display a single transparent image of gamma radiation affixed to them.
—Karl-Eduard von Schnitzler, Chief Commentator on East German television, Schwarzer Kanal, 16th October 1989.
My visit to Potsdam and the Russian Colony in the spring of 2023 stirred unexpected nostalgia within me. The wooden houses, fruit orchards, and aroma of Russian cuisine took me back to childhood, yet this nostalgia clashed with my deep disillusionment over the Russian invasion of Ukraine and President Putin's actions. Walking through the Russian colony "Alexandrowka," built in 1826 by King Friedrich Wilhelm III in memory of his friend Alexander I, I felt an eerie sense of confusion.The Chekhovian atmosphere, combined with the blooming orchards, evoked a deep resonance with the world of Russian literature. Authors like Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, and Chekhov, alongside Kyrgyz writer Chingiz Aitmatov, captivated us with their tales of human struggle and resilience. Soviet literature was not just a cultural influence but also a tool for ideological and political education. It reinforced socialist values and cemented our connection to the Soviet Union.
We were taught to see our Soviet "class brothers" as friends, while the West was cast as the enemy of socialism, a dichotomy that fuelled nationalist fervour and loyalty to the socialist state. When such enemy images become state doctrine, they enforce strict rules of behaviour. They create a narrative of good versus evil, right versus wrong, friend versus enemy—especially in a totalitarian state. These narratives establish norms and rules that everyone must follow to avoid being labelled as enemies themselves. In socialism, enemy images serve not as guidance but as dictates.
The principle is clear: “Whoever is not with us is against us”.
In response, I began destroying books by Soviet authors I had once cherished. This act of vandalism inspired the title Weißer Regen (White Rain), borrowed from Aitmatov's collection of short stories. In his work, white rain symbolises purity, renewal, and the erosion of traditional ways of life. Using white paint to obscure the original content, I explore the idea of whitewashing—covering up or erasing history. Projecting slides of gamma radiation used during civil defence training onto the backdrop of rolled paper represents the military indoctrination that began in childhood. Images of chemical warfare’s effects on the human body serve as stark reminders.
Weißer Regen explores the tension between personal nostalgia, disillusionment, and the manipulation of memory, highlighting how truth is altered and forgotten.
Option 1: image size 80X60cm, Giclée ink jet print on INNOVA White Matte 285g mounted on dibond, and installed with split batten fixings, giving the prints a floating appearance on the wall
Option 2: involves fabricating of frames measuring 80 x 60 cm, each containing 400 paper rolls made from book pages, arranged in rows on the frame. Together, these rolls display a single transparent image of gamma radiation affixed to them.
