My first paintings were little watercolors of wounded, disfigured and bandaged children. I was incredibly naive at that time and completely uninformed about any aspect of traditional art; deliberately, because I rejected anything that came from my parents’ generation.
Once I learned about the Holocaust, I realized its implications, and saw the collective denial and amnesia in Austria at that time. Everything froze for me and I refused to move on from that point. Maybe due to my infantile obsession with ‘justness,’ something broke for me, and from then on I felt detached from my ancestors, their traditions and values.
I avoided all established cultural institutions like museums, and I never visited a gallery. I was a proud ‘orphaned’ street kid, glad to be ignorant. I only cared about the so-called ‘trivial arts’ like comics and rock music. In a way, I was privileged when I began painting because I was completely free. I had no influences from other artists and I had no goals regarding a career. I took cheap watercolors and started to paint. It was like talking to myself, I didn’t know where this would lead to and if anyone would ever notice my little paintings. I had no idea if they were any good either because I had nothing to compare them to. ...

Helnwein: In den 70er Jahren war ich von den Möglichkeiten der Massenvervielfältigung fasziniert, das Original betrachtete ich damals als eine Art Edelabfall. Es war die Sehsucht nach einer Demokratisierung, einer Umorientierung von einer esoterischen in eine für jeden verständliche Kunst.
Aber Jahre später hatte ich mein Damaskuserlebnis als ich Originale von Kandinsky in der National Gallery in Washington und die Renaissance-Gemälde in den Uffizien sah. Ich war so erschüttert und überwältigt von der Unmittelbarkeit nie zuvor erlebter ästhetischen Intensität und der spirituellen Qualität dieser Werke, dass ich zu zittern begann und den Raum verlassen musste, da ich nicht vor allen Leuten zu weinen beginnen wollte. Ich weiss nun dass es die Magie, die Aura eines Kunstwerkes gibt, und ich habe zu der Abendländischen Kunst (von der Gotik, über die Renaissance bis zur Moderne) ein geradezu religiöses Verhältnis. Ich bin immer noch der Meinung, dass die modernen Reproduktionstechniken neue Bereiche und Möglichkeiten für die Kunst eröffnet haben, aber an der Bedeutung des Originals und der Aura eines Kunstwerkes hat das nichts geändert. ...

Das Gefährlichste, was einem Künstler passieren kann, ist: von der bürgerlichen Gesellschaft vollkommen akzeptiert und umarmt zu werden. Es ist die Todesumarmung. Der Anfang vom künstlerischen Ende. Mir geht es darum, dass Menschen meine Bilder sehen. Mir haben immer wieder Leute gesagt, dass sich meine Bilder schon in ihrer frühen Kindheit tief in ihr Gedächtnis eingegraben haben und dass sie eine wesentliche Erfahrung für sie waren. Ich denke, das können nicht viele Künstler von sich sagen. Es ist mir wichtig, dass meine Bilder in Museen sind, aber noch wichtiger ist es mir, dass sie in den Köpfen der Menschen sind. ...

GH: Vienna, the city I was born into right after the Second World War was a dreary place. The long shadows of the Third Reich were still cast over the city and the smell of death was in the air. I remember the empty streets, ruins of bombed houses, rust, rubble, no colors, no sound. There was a sense of despair. All the grown-ups I saw seemed silent, dark and broken. I never saw anybody laugh, I never heard anybody sing. It was a world that stood still, as if undecided yet if life should go on. What I didn't know then, was that my parents’ generation had recently lost two World Wars in a row and just completed the biggest genocide in history. The only art that I saw in my early childhood were 19th century paintings of tortured, blood-soaked martyrs and saints on the wall of cold churches were I spent a good time of my childhood. Until one day some PR-officers of the occupying American forces, God bless their hearts, thought it a good idea to bring some American culture, say Walt Disney's comic books, to the Nazi-kids in Germany and Austria to re-educate them. Especially the Donald Duck stories by the ingenious Disney artist Carl Barks hit us children like a comet and turned our world upside down. It was a culture shock. For me it was also an epiphany, a religious experience. Opening my first comic book was like leaving my parents’ yesterday-realm of death and darkness and stepping into a bright and infinite future. For the first time I experienced color and speed and the power of fantasy and imagination. ...

Para Gottfried Helnwein el arte tiene un sentido humano y altruista. Pero en la exposición llamada El canto de la aurora, que se presentará en la galería Hilario Galguera, no esperen encontrar escenas obvias. El artista vienés -conocido ampliamente por su trabajo con músicos como Rammstein y Marilyn Manson- mostrará 12 pinturas hiperrealistas, inspiradas por el espíritu de la Europa de la post guerra, donde vemos imágenes de niñas que muestran la inocencia de la infancia, pero de una manera sutil pero conmovedora también la violencia y la destrucción. Hablamos con Hilario Galguera sobre lo que propone Helnwein en esta exposición.
  ...

GH: People are constantly bombarded with millions of images of the daily horror from around the world, through mass media, television, internet, which makes us feel helpless, because it tells us there is nothing we can do about it.
Art is the exact opposite; with art you can approach any subject, no matter how horrible, because aesthetics can transcend and transform any uglyness, into something beautiful, it can elevate, inspire and might be able to open doors to understanding. My images always dealt with what's happening around me, I wasn’t making things up.
From early childhood on when I looked at people around me I perceived them as suffering in some way, without being conscious about it. I thought that most people seemed to be somewhat damaged , and that’s what I started to show in my paintings. ...

Wie sah es in Arno Brekers Atelier aus?
Helnwein: Überall standen Gips-Plastiken von Negern und Juden herum, die er nach dem Krieg hergestellt hatte. Eine heroisierende überlebensgroße Büste stellte einen beleibten Schwarzen in Uniform und vielen Orden dar. Ich fragte, wer das sei. „Das war der frühere Präsident der Elfenbeinküste“, antwortete er. „Der tauchte in den sechziger Jahren bei mir auf, legte seinen Arm um meine Schultern und sagte: ‚Breker, kommen Sie zu mir an die Elfenbeinküste. Ich werde Ihr zweiter Hitler sein". Breker sollte eine neue Hauptstadt entwerfen, was dieser auch sofort tat. Er zeigte mir das Gipsmodell dieses Utopia in dessen Mitte sich ein gigantischer Platz befand mit der riesigen Skulptur eines Afrikaners - mit zerrissenem Hemd und gesprengten Fesseln, der aufgewühlte Blick und die geballte Faust gen Himmel gerichtet. Auf meine Frage, was aus dem Projekt geworden sei, antwortete Breker mit leiser, resignierender Stimme "Der Präsident ist leider kurze Zeit darauf gestürzt worden"
Wie reagierte Breker, als Sie ihn mit Ihrem Beyus-Porträt in der Hand fotografierten?
Helnwein: Er hielt das Bild hoch und murmelte: „Das hätte sich der Beuys aber nicht träumen lassen.“ ...

"In der Ausstellung ist erstaunlich viel passiert. Zum ersten sind alle meine Bilder nach kurzer Zeit mit kleinen Stickern überklebt worden , auf denen stand: „Entartete Kunst.“ Ich wurde mit meiner Nase direkt in dieses Thema hineingestoßen. Die Leute haben über meine bandagierten Kinder gerätselt. Ist das ein Geisteskranker, der das malt? Ist das ein Wahnsinniger? Und wenn ich mich zu erkennen gegeben habe, als der, der das verbrochen hat, waren die Leute meistens noch mehr verwirrt. Sie haben gesagt: „Sie scheinen ja ganz normal zu sein, wieso machen Sie denn so was?“ Und dann immer die hoffnungsgeschwängerte Frage: „Haben Sie eine schreckliche Kindheit gehabt? Wurden Sie missbraucht?“ Diesen Bildern ausgeliefert zu sein ohne Erklärung, schien das Unerträgliche für die Leute zu sein."
...

Helnwein: Ich bin trotz allem gerne in Los Angeles, muss ich sagen. Ich geniesse es, wenn ich früh in der Morgensonne durch die ausgestorbenen Strassen Downtowns ins Atelier gehe, vorbei all den Graffiti-Kunstwerken an den Fassaden der heruntergekommenen Industriebauten und dem Abfall auf der Strasse. Bis Mittag lebe ich in einer Ghost-Town, da hier vorher kaum einer auf ist. Es ist ein bisschen wie in einem Film. Es hat was von "Blade-Runner", der ja auch hier gedreht wurde. Verfall hat seine eigene Faszination und Ästhetik. ...

TOKYO

Interview with Gottfried Helnwein
Interviewer: ITO Toshiharu
Translation: ENDO Tohru
ゴットフリート・ヘルンヴァイン インタビュー
インタヴュアー： 伊藤俊治
遠藤徹　訳 ...

HELNWEIN: LA is a strange place. A few blocks from my studio the streets are filled with thousands of homeless people, huddling on sidewalks or staggering through the streets -- and from time to time some lost soul is gesticulating franticly and shouting at invisible enemies. I live and work in the so called "artist district" in downtown Los Angeles - an innocent little island with old warehouses and brick buildings that look like left-overs from a noir movie set, inhabited by artists, photographers, musicians, skinny girls with nice tatoos, freaks, and Japanese students from SCI-Arc (The Southern California Institute of Architecture) placed in the former Santa Fe Rail Road freight-depot, a concrete block one-quarter of a mile long.
The heart of the artist district is the "Groundworks" cafe in a red-painted building across the old, run-down "American Hotel" where Bukowski once wrote the screenplay for "Barfly". The air is heavily polluted from all these diesel trucks that blow their unfiltered exhaust gases through their erected chrome-pipes into the air of downtown. When I touch my paintings my hands gets black from the layers of black dust, that sets on everything all the time. ...

"My first performance was with six-year-old Sandra, who was considered a problem child by her parents. I think her mother had a hard time coping with Sandra’s wicked sense of humor. One time, as protest for being locked in her room, she cut up all her mother’s clothes into tiny little pieces, arranged them in a neat pile in the middle of the floor and called her mum with the innocent voice of an angel. Another time she set fire to her parent’s apartment. She was one tough and mean little lady, but I liked her instantly. She had the pride of a Latino street gang leader. When she looked at you, her piercing little eyes had a very clear message: “Don’t mess with me!” ...

"Well, the world is a haunted house, and Helnwein at times is our tour guide through it.
I think in anything that is really relevant and emotional art, there is some kind of a mirror that people experience. I don't think that you can recognize a feeling from something that you look at unless it's part of yourself, and so when someone is willing to take on the sadness, the irony, the ugliness and the beauty in the kind of way that Gottfried Helnwein does.
Not all of Gottfried's work is on a canvas.
A lot of it is the way he's approached life. And it doesn't take someone knowing him to know that. You take one look at the paintings and you say "this guy has been around." You can't sit in a closet - and create this.
This level of work is earned."
Sean Penn ...

It’s a foggy, cloud-streaked afternoon in Waterford County, Ireland. I’m meeting a man who has spent a large part of his life on this island that is famously steeped in tradition. He’s called this place home for some while. Ireland has a long history of treating its artists, literary figures and musicians well. ...

...

WW: Was there any theory behind your work at this early stage?
GH: No. I didn't believe in intellectual explanations or irrational conclusions. I believed in spontaneous, intuitive things like rock and roll. I felt a part of rock and roll street culture and comics. That I understood because you don't have to know theory. You only need to hear it, see it, and you know it. That's actually the power of the so-called trivial or low art. It's instant and deep, penetrating. You hear Keith Richards and what do you need to know? You feel it in your gut. That's how I painted. ...

Helnwein:
"I think art always reflects the society and the time the artist lives in; it always tells you something about the condition of the culture.
This is the age of materialism and profit, accompanied by its favorite all-eating pet – the entertainment industry. Therefore in order not to sink into oblivion, in a desperate struggle to be heard and seen, many artists and curators try to compete with this multi-media-entertainment-Godzilla, trying to be just as loud and cheap and stupid. That’s why 70% to 80% of all the contemporary art in our museums is crap.
It’s true though that each time has its own aesthetic values and if you want to reach the people of today you have to develop an artistic language that they can understand. And that’s what I try to do – my audience is the great love-affair of my life. I am obsessed with my public, and all I want to do with my art is touch them and move them and to hold them tight – and sometimes I want to kick their ass. That is all I care about.
But I also listen to them and take them and their responses serious, because they and other artists are the only ones that ever taught me anything." ...

"...When I look at a work of Art I ask myself: does it challenge me, does it touch, move or inspire me? Do I learn something from it, does it startle or amaze me - do I get excited, upset?
That is the test any artwork has to pass: can it create an emotional impact on a human being even when he has no education or any information about art? I’ve always had a problem with art that you can only understand if you have a degree in art history, and I have a problem with theories in general. Most of them are bullshit anyway. Most critics and theorists have little respect for artists, and I think the importance of theory in art is totally overrated. Real art is self-evident. Real art is intense, challenging, enchanting, exciting and unsettling; it has a quality and magic that you cannot explain. Like the Blues, a poem of Rimbaud or Rembrandt's late self-portraits. Art is not logic, and if you really want to experience it, your mind and rational thinking will be of little help. Art is something spiritual that you can only experience with your senses, your heart, your soul. Think of Bob Dylan, Hendrix, Mozart, Howling Wolf, Goya, Bukowski or Robert Crumb - do you need to know the theories that some busybodies might attach to their art in order to experience it?
Marcel Duchamp said: "The work of art is always based on the two poles of the onlooker and the maker, and the spark that comes from the bipolar action gives birth to something - like electricity."
These two poles is all you need. ...

Auxiliary Magazine: Many pieces of your work are intimate glimpses to fascist figures and groups. Is this a theme you still feel is relevant?
Helnwein: Mussolini once said: "Fascism should rightly be called Corporatism, as it is the merger of corporate and government power". Well, look around - does it look like there is a growing influence of bankers and big corporations on our governments and our lives? The new Fascists will not come as grim looking brutes in daemonic black uniforms and boots, they will wear slick suits and ties, and they will be smiling. ...

Helnwein: Schmerz und Gewalt gegen Wehrlose sind die zentralen Themen meiner Arbeit.
In den Siebzigern haben meine Bilder und Aktionen Entsetzen hervorgerufen, weil man dachte, ich sei pervers. Der Missbrauch von Kindern wurde damals von der Gesellschaft und den Medien vollkommen verschwiegen. Mittlerweile ist einiges von diesem systematischen Terror gegen Kinder ans Licht gekommen. Sie wurden in der Psychiatrie gefesselt und in dunkle Räume gesperrt und Bettnässer mit Elektroschocks behandelt. Die österreichische Psychiaterin Maria Nowak-Vogl hat Kinder absichtlich mit Malaria infiziert und in ihrem "Kreuzzug gegen Onanie" Röntgenstrahlen, Psychopharmaka und Tiermedikamente bei kleinen Mädchen eingesetzt. ...