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

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

 

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.

Katja Gaschler. 2012, Chefredakteurin bei Gehirn&Geist – dem Magazin für Psychologie und Hirnforschung.

germanized

 

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