by CHRISTINE REDFERN

With materials such as barbwire, lead, dirt, sticks and old discarded objects—as well as traditional oil and canvas—the works of Anselm Kiefer convey a definite sense of darkness. Born in 1945, Kiefer is part of a group of post-World War II German artists whose work reflects the struggle of his people to come to terms with the horror of the war and with their participation in it.

Heaven and Earth, which recently opened at the Musée contemporain, shows some 50 works culled from over 35 years of Kiefer’s career: paintings and sculptures that leave the viewer with a feeling of both physical and psychological heaviness, but through composition or content, there is always a path left open to contemplate the heavens. Discussions surrounding his work usually start out focusing on his manipulation and use of materials, but always seem to veer back to questions of philosophy and human nature.

As Texas-based curator Michael Auping sees it, the German-rooted themes fit into a much broader scope. “It takes the work outside the German viewpoint,” he said, in town last week for the exhibition’s opening. “It is not just about that. Great art is regional, but needs to also be universal. We keep trying to get to heaven, but we never get there.”

Auping compared Kiefer’s works to an onion. It can be viewed and discussed on many different levels, he says, but the viewer doesn’t necessarily need to know the myths or historical references alluded to in the titles and content to appreciate the works. Much of their allure is their pure tactile nature and enormous scale. Scale is also a part of why this exhibition is the first retrospective of Kiefer’s work ever shown in Canada, and the first in North America since 1987. The size, fragility and high market value of his artworks make them difficult pieces to borrow, transport and exhibit. This is an artist whose work is so sought after that even his former studio, a brick factory in Germany, was bought by an art collector.

The working title for Heaven and Earth was originally Church and State, but that was dismissed as too controversial a title for the Texas museum that organized the exhibition. The new title may be more fitting anyway. “This is not an exhibition about religion,” says Auping—something Kiefer elaborates on in an interview with Auping published in the catalogue. “It is about transcendence,” explains Kiefer. “The church has always been political. This is nothing new. And politics can pose as religion. Hitler abused religion. His speeches were full of prayers... We can’t escape religion, but there is a difference between religion and heaven, and one doesn’t necessarily lead to the other.”

Kiefer’s philosophical roots run deep. Interestingly, he started out studying law before turning to art, and the parallels are strong. “Law, mythology, religion—they are all structures for investigating human character,” he says. “I didn’t study law to be a lawyer, but for the philosophical aspects of law, constitutional law. What interests me is how people live together without destroying each other.”

Heaven and Earth is at the Musée d’Art
Contemporain until April 30