exhibitions shows ( selection)
Arcoiris
"Arcoiris" is a Spanish word meaning "rainbow", but literally translated it would be more accurate to say "to see the bow in the eye". It is an installation of nearly 600 bones painted in watercolours. An extract from Russana's work diary gives an insight into how she came to create this work:
".... I went to the room where the spiritual world and I meet. After the period of dark nights, after I had already started working on Bergamo, I wanted to see something bright, to work on something that did not contain night. Maybe to find a balance? I don't know anymore. So I said to the room, "Show me something white," and then I saw them in the distance. White arches with coloured rings in bright colours. At first glance it looked like a rainbow. I liked it very much. When I got closer, I saw that the white arches were made of bones.“
Amelie Russana describes herself as a medium who is shown her work in various forms, including, in the case of Arcoiris, a white spirit-soaked room. She then translates the works she sees in these visions and the experiences she has there into artistic works and makes them accessible to the viewer. Depending on the vision, she chooses to translate it in the form of painting, performance or installation.
Information about the exhibition:
Due to the fragility of the works, you can visit the exhibition at any time by appointment at amelierussana@gmail.com
THE ARTIST NIGHTDREAM, was of soft Blackness
Detail of THE ARTIST NIGHTDREAM, was of soft Blackness", charcoal and pastel on paper, 3 m x 13 m, 2023
"To get to the light, you must first cross the darkness. Beyond is a place of constant rebirth.
Did you know that a shooting star consists of one big star and a thousand smaller ones? Did the creator of this universe capture the shooting star or did she want to throw it into the darkness?
She gave birth to a child between her legs. The newborn plays with the moon. In her right hand the creator holds a staff that can create water.
She sits in the middle of the jungle where plants and women live. They, women and girls, wear masks and are naked. Some faces can be recognized.
Like pollen, new stars, moons and planets sprout from the flowers of the jungle plants.
A waterfall cascades down from above. A snake follows the stream.
A pregnant woman prances through the jungle and over the water. She carries a child in her belly, soon to be born. In her heart lie three more children. She will give birth to them later in her life.
Fireflies accompany her as she approaches a black door. Where does this door lead?
A wall frieze has been created around the door. This tells of the phases of the moon and the physical love of women.
Extinguished stars lie in jars.
The snake slides out of the picture.
Three galaxies dance ecstatically. Their bodies cast shadows into the darkness. Hanging from one of the dancers, strung from stars, is a skeleton trying to reach for a star.
A curtain of bones begins to open. The snake slithers peacefully and silently between it.
Flowers and leaves grow up into a crescent moon.
In this great world of black and white sits a woman who dreams of everything. She wears a mask of blue paper feathers and dreams this world again, again and again"
Amelie Russana
Information: Due to the fragility of the works, you can visit the exhibition at any time by appointment at amelierussana@gmail.com. / The performance for the drawing will take place daily
Maskperformance
Self-portrait as a medium of art, watercolor on paper, 120 x 90 cm, 2022
Bergamo -The painting of the pandemic-
Destroyed human lives and families, never-ending grief and loneliness. No one will ever forget the convoys of military trucks that brought the dead out of the city of Bergamo. A loving and dignified farewell was not possible in the hour of death. Bergamo became the symbol of the pandemic. Therefore, like Picasso painted Guernica at the time, I decided to create a painting that takes on Bergamo and thus the pandemic.
My works are created in cooperation with the spiritual world. They showed me what Bergamo meant and I painted it. Here is an excerpt from my diary from 2020:
"I took myself to my room. everything is black I can only see me. No above, no below. Then I said: Show me what Bergamo means. A field of dahlias came towards me. A big field. At first glance it looks beautiful at night. A spell. Those big flowers and the blue night. Only then do I notice that almost everything has dried up and the flowers have broken off. A field between flowering and death. Between. Something flickers between the flowers. I can't tell. It flashes violently in front of the eyes. I can't resolve this. For days I see this flash between the flowers. Then I pull it apart and a new picture of Bergamo emerges. Large and small, thick and thin, fully blooming dahlias float past me. I have to think of the Styx. These are the ones gone and the first image of the withered field is the here and now. The work can begin."
The first painting twin, Bergamo 1, is currently on display until July 24th. The second twin will then follow until the end of the exhibition on September 11, 2022.
Leviathan
“I was collecting bones and leaves from a river that emptied into the sea when a huge shimmering mountain slid past me. It sparkled and glowed. There was no end, not up into the sky and not towards the horizon. It was wonderful. It wasn't a mountain though, it was a fish, a giant and because I had never seen anything like it I only knew one word for it from an old story: Leviathan
Not being able to bring him here, I did what I could and brought only a piece of his skin."
The night has twelve hours
"Corona wiped out the people in my paintings. Then there was only blackness on the painting canvases and in my white room. Bit by bit, this turned into the blackness of the night. Then, very slowly, the light came and the night began to dress in blue. In this midnight blue dahlias started to grow. When and if the day will come is uncertain.......But that's ok with me."
Bertholt Brechts - The Song of the Moldau and the choice of the exhibition title:
We are all currently in the night. The night is the pandemic and we cannot change that. Death, darkness and the routine of constant threats are part of everyday life for all of us. In order to choose a suitable title for the exhibition, I chose the sentence from Bertolt Brecht's poem - The Song of the Moldau - from 1944. He wrote it during the war and it has this memorable sentence "The night has twelve hours, then the day will come". What is existential for the paintings and this poem is the current state and at the same time the promise of the day, of change. So to the change, to the promise that every horror can transform itself again. Life finds a way. The paintings born in the pandemic contain the darkness but also the promise of light. We are, so to speak, in the blue hour of the night.
Pandemic
The White Cave
"There's this white room. I don't know what it is or where it is, but I like going there. Everything is super white. I find things there, I see things. There are bones everywhere, there are so many colors and so much light. I can't take anyone there. So I'm starting to bring things over here from over there. So that others can see it too"
Los muertos están vivos - the dead are alive
mask performance
"It sounds strange to say - the dead ones. I feel, see, hear them. Sometimes they stand next to me. Not because of me. More like overhearing a snippet of conversation while walking past strangers on the street. I have a feeling that they are not so different from us. There is something that has transformed, but the essence remains the same. I see them all the time at the academy. I hate leaving the studio door open. A friend feels it too, but most are blind and deaf to it. I want to somehow honor that knowledge and give it a form.
I will organize a performance.
It will be at night.
all saints day on halloween
The whole house will be occupied by them (Werderstraße 71, Karlsruhe).
The dead live (the performers) and the living (the viewers) can visit them. This time the dead cannot see them. Usually the dead can see us, but we can't see them. Here it should be the other way around. The dead are visible and wearing a mask. It is the symbol to distinguish them from each other. I will lay out my sculptures and my colors. The only instruction for the performers is: "You cannot see the living"
The performance lasted three hours and was on view for one night
Credit Performers: Sarah Degenhardt, Katinka Eichhorn Yonkuk Ko, Pollo Guzman, Hiroko Nagata, Hao, Solveig Scharper, Nikolas
Say, have we met before ?
Ich arbeite an den kleinen Aquarellen, es sind schon mehrere Hundert. Ich möchte sie gerne zeigen. Da ist diese Stimme in meinem Kopf.
Die Stimme: "Bring sie in den Wald."
Amelie: "In den Wald?"
Die Stimme: "Ja zeig sie im Wald !"
"Say, have we met before?", Waldausstelllung Installation Dossenheim, Förderung Dossenheim 2018
