„The last negative that geomicrobiologist Professor Wolfgang E. Krumbein had inoculated with microbes—at the request of Düsseldorf-based artist Sabine Kacunko (b. 1963)—went missing somewhere within his institute at the Carl von Ossietzky University of Oldenburg. Consequently, a specimen that had already been colonized twelve months earlier was used for the installation of her work LEBEN [LIFE] at the Kunstverein Coburg. The artist was astonished when she examined the enlargement on the rear-projection screen: where shapeless, trembling particles had previously been visible amidst a riot of colorful speckles, the tiny legs of minuscule creatures were now twitching.
There was no trace left of the negative’s original subject—a monumental animal skull. It had been devoured by microorganisms feasting on the gelatin-rich film layers and leaving behind nothing but excrement: pigments more beautiful than Manzoni’s canned “Artist’s Shit,” and almost as beautiful as Jackson Pollock’s furiously splattered and spattered canvases—yet ultimately superior to them, given that these aesthetically striking microbes are engaged in a “work in progress” while simultaneously producing a protective layer against excessive radiation. All of this is captured fifteen times per second by a digital network camera and projected in real time […]
[The] former aviary is remarkable, resembling an Early Christian basilica more than any animal enclosure one might imagine. Sabine Kacunko encountered a single-story “nave” illuminated from above, subdivided into small, open bays that—flanking a central aisle—converged almost dramatically toward a rounded “apse.” Visitors entering the exhibition find the entire space darkened. The projected image seems to advance toward them, as the projector casts it over the screen and the partitions of the first bays, beaming it through the darkness toward the entrance. What they do not see from this vantage point is a wall-mounted rail—positioned not far from the screen—equipped with a sliding magnifying glass; this allows for the close inspection of slide stills capturing various stages of the negative’s decomposition from earlier points in time […]
Each component carries sufficient dramatic weight on its own: the live installation featuring images of a process of decay that actually generates new life; the nearly three-meter-tall, large-format reproduction of a skull in the foyer—printed on a semi-transparent substrate—where transience has manifested as an irreversible, frozen moment brought to a deadly standstill; and finally, the DVD film *Ritual, Prayer* (2003) screening in the lecture hall, which uses technical means to restart a process that had actually concluded. Kacunko creates a cycle consisting of a single static shot—edited into an endless loop—of the animal skull’s profile being set ablaze from behind.
Accompanying these are smaller-scale black-and-white photographs from the 1990s—the earliest of which were created during her studies in Nan Hoover’s class at the Düsseldorf Art Academy. These works feature high-contrast, sharply defined organic forms set against a black background—some of animal origin, others plant-based—including seashells and snail shells, horns, a blossom, and a radish. When enlarged, the forms hover ambiguously between these two states, taking on a distinct identity that distances them far from their original referents. The radish mutates into an introspective animal; a seashell fragment evokes the image of a crucified creature.
Deep black dominates the artist’s body of work to date, inspired by both harrowing personal life experiences and global political developments. Kacunko’s work consistently acknowledges loss: the loss of cultural heritage, cultural memory, and the identity tied to them—resulting from war, inhumane regimes, and terrorist attacks—as well as the annihilation of human life following a nuclear strike. The disappearance of a legible image from the negative of her Coburg installation should also be viewed in this light. Ultimately, however, “Leben” (Life) signals a defiant stance against death—an attitude conveying strength that she has also articulated as an appeal to the viewer in the form of a multiple: an altar candle without a wick. Kacunko envisions the future as an “open system” based on constant interaction, rather than on finalities.“
(From: Christiane Fricke, Sabine Kacunko: Leben. Kunstverein Coburg, 6.4. – 18.5.2003. Kunstforum International, Vol. 165, 2003, pp. 340 – 341. [translated from German])
