With the four-part work "Radical Domesticity" Patricia Lincke negotiates the current strengthening of the of right-wing ideas. The red thread is formed by the used wigs in the colours the German national flag, with whose help it deconstructs the traditional image of Germany and denies the new right-wing groups their interpretative sovereignty.
The two photographs "Heilige Einfalt" and "Sichtschutz" each show an iconic female figure, who through the mere change of the pose has a different effect on unfolded to the viewer. The first picture reminds us by its hand gesture of traditional representations of christian holy figures, the second appears to be a veiled Muslim woman. The Headscarf turns out to be a common tradition between the Occident and the Arab-Islamic world.
In addition to this, in the lace curtain, due to its history of origin, are intertwined, western and occidental aesthetics. Through the interplay depicted, the artist throws a new perspective on the discussion about a christian "Leitkultur" in Germany.
Patricia Lincke's figure of a woman can be understood as a modern national allegory that describes Germany but does not give a face, but on the contrary, blindness and limited perspectives embodied. Under that wig, anybody could hide. It's similar with the new Rights whose electorate is made up of various social groups. These believe in the digital space in secure anonymity, to express their hate and hatred without loss of face to unload.
Instead of being ready to fight with sword, Lincke's Germania stands there empty-handed and blindly capturing empty campaign promises made by right-wing populists. So the lace curtain will be raised in "Right jerk" to the net and instead of unity the right wing pulls in its direction. The scenario of this video work is repeated again and again from the front and is accompanied by Descending. The white tiles and the cool light remind in their sterility of Battle chamber. This association is solidified in the installation "Stimmenfang", in which the hang three wigs in black, red and gold separately from each other on the butcher's hook.
Hanna Banholzer, 2019
Me in black. Me in red. Me in gold.
Only the title reveals that this work is a form of self-portrait. Patricia Lincke, however, denies the viewer the view of the face or body that is typical of the genre. Only the title of the third part, "Ich in Gold" (I in Gold), reveals that it is not hair colors that are called upon here, but rather the German national colors. The only metaphorical "I" in the form of artificial hairpieces is firmly embedded in the black-red-golden lining, both secure and constricted, almost suffocated by the curtains wound several times around the head - a leitmotivically recurring attribute of German cosiness in Lincke's work. These fabrics used to be a common component of dowry boxes and guarantee homeliness and protection from outside intruders. Thus, the "I" perhaps does not nestle reluctantly at all, but quite the opposite, comfortably in the and retreats into it? On the other hand, the circularly draped fabric can also be read as an opening through which the mop of hair pushes out and which gives birth to the "I" in three variants.
For the Football World Cup in Germany in 2006, the wearing of the national colours, which had long been frowned upon in Germany, became suitable for parties and the media for the first time. It symbolizes belonging to a community that we usually cannot choose. Against this background, the series can also be understood as thematizing the "birth of a new national feeling" (Lincke).
Patricia Lincke's "me in black. me in red. me in gold" does not represent a particular personality, but negotiates the ego as part of a collective. With our national identity, the work focuses on a rarely illuminated facet of personality and puts "German" to us for debate. As a self-portrait without the self, the serially arranged photographic work rather represents a conceptual confrontation with the question of identity inherent in the genre and, in its facelessness, at the same time forms an alternative to the "omnipresence of the self-portrait in the mass media today" (W. Ullrich) and to the faciality so dominant in our society.
Dr. phil. Susanna C. Ott, Munich. 2017
As far as here
Borders, familiar patterns, insights into the hidden private space protected by curtains and fences: Patricia Lincke's works recurrently deal with the dialectic of demarcation and opening - also
conceived under the idea of "strokes and overthrows". What is essential is the deliberately chosen section and thus the insight that the artist grants the viewer: The composed composition of
materiality, a curtain as long as the floor in front of a wall of artificial grass, in front of it a kind of doormat which, however, allows one to conclude a gravel path. A hedge as a green
shelter for conversations over or with the neighbour, a blond hair - someone is at home, but not approachable. Paul Watzlawick took up Heraklit's idea of the "unity in the diversity" of things
and pointed out that too much good always turns into evil. The viewer may now ask himself which side he is on.
With her installations, Patricia Lincke constructs the image of the domestic bourgeoisie in a neat and tidy manner with few means. The feeling of orderly everyday life faces curiosity, what might be hidden behind the carefully arranged layers? It is this private insight, the moment that can also be found in Thomas Demand's "Badezimmer" (Bathroom) (1997), that sharply stirs up aversion and curiosity at the same time.
Patricia Lincke's use of curtain fabric is a recurring and elementary motif: the floral embroidery on the fabric conveys a lovingly meant yet mass-appropriate protective shield against uninvited glances.
The permeable fabric, however, gives an idea of what is going on behind the façade. In the 17th century, this stick was widely used in painting: In his paintings Jan Vermeer conveyed the intimacy of a domestic room through a curtain pushed to one side. Patricia Lincke's curtain fabric, however, does not only hang down from the pole. In her films and photographs, the protagonists literally get caught up in it, an ugly game takes its course. René Magritte also covered his "Lovers" (1928) with a cloth on the head. They seem to kiss, at the same time the cloths wind around their necks like ropes. The ambivalence of feelings is reflected in Patricia Lincke's work, which reveals her subtle criticism of social grievances.
Erinn Carstens, Cultural Manager, Munich. 2015
Window to the Soul
Patricia Lincke's view of the windows of our contemporaries moves us strangely. For suddenly we feel drawn into a whirlpool of conjecture: This sadly comic collection of porcelain figurines, what
simple heart is attached to such cheap kitsch? And there, the puny little plants: Someone must live here who simply can't throw away anything living! How depressing, on the other hand, the
unadorned window, the pane grayed by the soot of car exhaust fumes. Whoever lives here has probably long since broken off contact with the outside world ...
The windows of an apartment, we suspect, are also windows to the soul - or expressed less metaphysically: they tell us a lot about the people who spend their lives behind them. For a long time, social psychologists warned against drawing hasty conclusions about others based on their appearance - they objected that it was all too easy to fall prey to simple clichés. However, recent psychological experiments have shown that we are often not that far off the mark with our assessments.
According to psychologist Samuel Gosling of the University of Texas, everyone inevitably leaves fingerprints of their personality in their environment - clues that others know how to interpret. Each of us sends symbolic signals of the characteristics that we consciously want to communicate to the outside world: "Identity claims," as personality researcher Gosling calls them. And what could be more suitable than a window to stake out one's claims in a way that is clearly visible to one's neighbors? Look what a modern, sophisticated, creative person I am! The question remains whether these are honest messages, wishful thoughts or deception: Who is able to say what dark thoughts are supposed to camouflage the snow-white curtains, what obsessive mind is fighting against private chaos behind accurately folded curtains?
Behavioral residues" hold more truth. They represent random remnants of lifestyle: A flower arrangement on the windowsill that has long since dried up reliably announces that its owner has long since stopped paying attention to such things. It is not for nothing that detectives search for traces left by a murderer unintentionally. But what if fingerprints are completely missing? We stand broodingly in front of the double-covered window, which seems to refuse any information about the occupant. Of course, our instincts tell us: if he doesn't have something to hide ...
Katja Gaschler. 2012, Chefredakteurin bei Gehirn&Geist – dem Magazin für Psychologie und Hirnforschung.
The photographic works, translated into German by Patricia Lincke, continue to focus on window arrangements of German bourgeoisie. But at the same time they form a new beginning. The focus is no
longer on documenting existing windows, but on condensing the theme into a targeted composition of individual objects with strong associations. The precious objects, domestic, subjective
treasures, stand and hang closely crowded on the windowsill, entwined and complemented by plants, from the interior of the room - strictly separated by the curtain, as a hermaphroditic area of a
staging of the private area from inside and outside.
For the first time, however, the owners of these "show windows" seem to be visible, a hand or a face showing. On closer inspection, however, they turn out to be equivalent symbols of the German bourgeoisie. The pure presentation objects are suddenly joined by the window designers. They lose or renounce their anonymity, the protection of curtains and impersonality. People themselves become part of the windowsill. The dreamy, eerie atmosphere of the photomontages creates parallels to the photographs of the Surrealists. The degree of construction and manipulation of seemingly incoherent individual elements evokes associations with the atmosphere of the world of Man Ray or Hans Bellmer, as well as with the bizarre subjects of the Dora Maar, their staging, fetishization, and metamorphoses.
The window could exist in this way - or not. Patricia Lincke reinforces the artificial character of her photographs in the works of the series "Verdeutscht". Whereas previously she primarily reworked her photographs on the computer, the current works have been generated entirely as photomontages of individual photographic elements on the computer. Since Dadaism and Surrealist photography in the 1920s, the condensation and "realization" of a phenomenon in an image by means of photomontage or subsequent image processing has been a widespread artistic tool - always and in Patricia Lincke's work more subtly and independently than ever before.
Fiona Seidler, Art Historian. 2010