Author: Tina Schulz Jirka Pfahl »ausderkunst< Reihe A4 Band 5 ISBN 3-936826-27-7 gutleut-verlag, Frankfurt/ Main und Weimar Hunter and The Hunted A: Hunting the Great Bear Art is a bear whose shimmering coat lures many hunters out into the arena. Of course, this is no ordinary bear ? although no hunter can surely claim that he shot it, its skin having been torn apart a thousand times before already. But the strange animal remains vivacious, continuing to prowl around, seeking to expand its territory and to deceive those chasing it. Within the field of art, artists, communicators, critics and consumers flock round the bear. Once driven by passion, all of them sooner or later want to possess (some part of) the bear ? almost at whichever price. Hunting techniques range from taming, trapping to the free hunt, and alongside all the conjurers, thieves and hunters you also get the occasional poacher. Involved thus far, moral objections against disreputable behaviour become accessory: "If there is something to steal, then I steal it", Pablo Picasso is known to have said. And Francis Picabia similarly makes no secret of his dubious methods, "lying, lying and cheating, but not trying to make personal gain". Lying, cheating and stealing ? and never to one's own advantage? I using the material that belongs to one's own artistic territory, conscious transgression as well as constant self-assertion as an artist are equally important. Anything may become the object of desire: a work of art, an everyday utensil, a technique, a language game, a method, a context, an idea or an attitude. Ultimately, Marcel Duchamp ? more the collector of coincidences and temporal periods than the hunter of momentary innovation ? may be seen as the tortoise relaxedly calling over to the hare, "I'm already here!" Duchamp's both phenomenal and fundamental lightning attack marks to this day the outermost point of the territory under discussion. However, around this point, the boundaries are endlessly expanding and nobody has caught sight of the great bear in a long time. The title of a work by Jirka Pfahl, "Chasing the Solo Exhibition", already reveals him as a hunter. Interpreting the title, it seems that the hunt is on for the royal stag of the art world ? the solo exhibition, or even better, the retrospective, in which the artist's oeuvre is displayed in dimensions befitting the museum, archiving him as the dominant stag within his métier. Jirka Pfahl's work comprises three photographs of his own face, as he successively aligns his sights, aims and fires. On two pictures one sees the artist taking his bearings on the eye of the camera past his hand raised vertically between his eyes. The third photograph shows him pointing both forefingers aggressively at the lens, and by extension, at the viewer standing in front of the picture. As his handscover more than one third of his face ? making it harder to identify the depicted person ? the photographer's 'shot' shoots back at the viewer like a ricocheting bullet. Even if the work's title claims that the artist is hunting for the solo exhibition, he is far from being prepared to risk his neck. Or is the short, exclusive moment in which eyes meet and the viewer's attention is focused solely on the artist's picture, the bag itself? B: Reading Trails, Laying Tracks In many of Jirka Pfahl's works there is a constant shift of position from hunter to hunted, from subject to object. This may be read as a means of expanding one's territory, i.e. scope of action, a widespread strategy in the roundabout of the art world over recent decades. Single authorship has dissolved in favour of multiple fissions: the artist is no longer just an artist, but also theorist, communicator, critic and consumer. Subjectivity is accessible in new, project-based contexts of changing function. The disintegration of the subject as stable ? expressed today as an omnipresent effect of postmodernism ? may already be found in 19th century philosophy: The realization that it is impossible to firmly define a stable standpoint by referring to the self soon became the wavering 'fixed point' of the Romantic ideal, and at the same time the starting point of modern subjectivism and self-analysis. Art is like subjectivity: "(...) both ? subjectivity and art ? have a decisive trait in common. There is no given ground within art and subjectivity. On the contrary, they constantly communicate via themselves, revealing signs of that strangely casual compulsion of modernism ? thematizing themselves through the analysis of their linguistic means and conditions." This is very much reflected in Jirka Pfahl's work. The series "possible works" and the exhibition project "Sold" examine the concept of authorship in a state of disintegration. Jirka Pfahl does not shy away from the bold style of the demonstrative epigone ("possible works #1 after Joseph Kosuth", 2003), nor from deluding the viewer by means of false artistic identity ("Sold", gallery project, since May 2003). Artistic strategies of appropriation, quoting and faking ? present in the artist's repertoire ? subvert the already stated and its implications through faithful repetition, or slight alteration of the original, bringing to the fore the modalities and conditions of each respective context. Jirka Pfahl deploys the principle of appropriation both on the level of the work as well as artistic stance. He is keen to cross territorial boundaries and is occasionally an avid poacher. The heterogeneity resulting from this changing position ? both in terms of style and stance ? can be interpreted as a reaction to the circumstances of the art market: "You will never get me", the artist seems to be wanting to tell us. C: How to Throw Someone off the Scent by Pulling Their Leg In the present publication, Jirka Pfahl presents photographs whose immediate context cannot be reconstructed by the uninitiated observer. Rather, this heterogeneous collection of pictorial causes seems to want to say over and over again "I'm here already". But where, we are forced to ask. There are both references to the everyday and to club and party culture, as well as quotes from the world of art, but nothing seems to make any real sense. We get to see glimpses of the secondary arenas of art production and communication, figures in action (but what exactly are they doing?), replicas of the artist's works and the occasional exhibition view ? yet without any explanatory information. We are faced with an open sided archive of images, without knowledge as to its selection criteria. The final selection thus appears subjective, resisting clear interpretation, and any conclusions about the author/s of the images are unnecessary. Strewn in between the images, the statement "We don't intentionally do it for you" underlines this rejection for the viewer, along the lines of: "No entry if code unknown." Of course, being thus turned down only serves to heighten passion. Who is behind this collective? What is there to discover behind the door? What connects all these incidents? Jirka Pfahl is obviously laying tracks, his photographs seek the trail of the great bear. Whether the artist wishes to permit the shooting of the bear or rather conquer its territory for good with the text piece "I guess we should give it a try in the market" shown on the cover of the book, remains to be seen.