Sisyphean Mode
Sculptors in Flow

The story of Sisyphus, his boulder, and his punishment is a very old one. Ever since Classical Antiquity it has been narrated in a variety of ways and over the course of time has etched itself into our collective memory. What is more, every generation discovers its own relevance in the story. Every century adds something to the tale and lets other aspects fall into oblivion. Contrary to the initial assumption, it is not the clinging to a set idea that makes a story endure. Tradition does not come about when you watch over the ashes but rather when you stoke the fire. Times change and something has to provide people with ever fresh inspiration for it to remain fruitful and of relevance for the present.
Typically, these new interpretations happen imperceptibly and at some point they are simply part of the story. People forget just how this new interpretation and fabrication came about and what was a metamorphosis suddenly has the status of a certainty. Sculptors Emilia Neumann and Urban Hüter are very familiar with this interplay between creative, aesthetic practice, on the one hand, and the artwork on the other. Though their work consists of constant movement, of an incessant search and struggle, of a continual dynamic interaction with material and form, nonetheless a complete work emerges at the end of this process. Moreover, the sculptors’ artistic activity and the finished work appear as two aspects of a larger process, and as such one can definitely read the works of Hüter and Neumann as repositories and places of remembrance of their aesthetic endeavor. One need only look at their works and they begin to speak, to narrate their stories and encourage their recipients to rethink things.
So it is hardly surprising that it is their works and especially those pieces included in the Sisyphean Mode exhibition, which enable us to gain a brief insight into how the great narratives develop – something that often remains unknown.

Let’s start at the very beginning, in Classical Antiquity, with Sisyphus the man. It was rumored of the King of Corinth that he was the cleverest and most cunning of people. The real Sisyphus was power-hungry, someone who brought guilt upon himself through his actions against this enemies and against women. These deeds account perhaps in part at least for the punishment that would make him so famous. However, we don’t have any further information about it. We do know, however, about how he feuded with the gods. Sisyphus incurred Zeus‘ wrath because he revealed to a river god where Zeus had taken the former’s daughter after abducting her. This put an abrupt end to Zeus‘ sexual exploits and he was absolutely furious as a result. To take revenge on Sisyphus he ordered Thanatos, the God of Death, to end Sisyphus´ life.
However, Sisyphus had no desire to die and it was not for nothing that he was considered the most cunning of men. He tied Thanatos up and managed to escape death. That said, Sisyphus suspected he would not escape the gods’ wrath so easily again. So, he instructed his wife that in the event of his death she leave his body lying on the street for everyone to see. When Thanatos came a second time Sisyphus acquiesced to being led down into the Underworld. However, no sooner had he arrived when he began to moan. His body was lying in plain sight and had not been given a proper burial. As the gods were loath to make even Sisyphus suffer such a disgrace they relented and he was allowed to return briefly to Corinth to set things straight. However, once he was back in the world of the living Sisyphus had no intention whatsoever of crossing the River Styx again voluntarily and descending to Hades. Instead, he stayed up above and lived a long and happy life, until he died a natural death at a ripe old age. At the very end, there was no escaping. The gods had not forgotten him and meted out the punishment that made him famous. From now on until all eternity he would have to roll an immense marble boulder up a hill.

While the life of Sisyphus was forgotten in the Middle Ages, attention shifted to his punishment. It became the epitome of human suffering, a symbol for the pain and torment of human existence. With the advent of Modernity, which as we know focused on the individual, the work on the boulder and the constant struggle of rolling a stone up a hill was no longer read as pure and passive suffering but taken as an illustration of man’s will to achieve a goal in life. In politics, in romantic love or even in the field of art – in Modernity and to this day, the focus has shifted to people’s singular striving for power, happiness and beauty.
So we are approaching the artistic practice and Sisyphean Mode of Hüter and Neumann in seven-league boots. All that is missing is the greatest of all interpretations, that by French author Albert Camus in the mid-20th century. If not for his notion that we should think of Sisyphus as a happy man, we might perhaps have been completely forgotten the figure. Camus takes a step back from the historical Sisyphus and views him neither as a suffering penitent nor a happy toiling workaholic. Instead, he construes the figure as a man who breathes a sigh of relief the moment the boulder rolls down the hill again. Camus shifted the focus to an aspect of the story that had not previously received any attention, namely the time Sisyphus takes to clamber down the hill again. Now he can walk upright and for a short time is relieved of his punishment and suffering. He accepts his fate. He recognizes his life as a series of actions that are connected to one another through his recollections. It is his life. Fully conscious of his own existence he can laugh in the face of the gods and hurl a strong, existentialist Yes at them. In Camus’ reading Sisyphus accepts his fate with the boulder and in doing so becomes master of his own fate. This reinterpretation was as surprising as it was influential, and subsequently various writers and artists also took a liking to the ascent of Sisyphus.
For example, since the 1960s the act of rolling the rock up the hill has also been interpreted as an act of resistance against an absurd world. Günther Grass calls Sisyphus his very own saint and Hilde Domin writes:
“Rolled uphill.
The rocks
become bread and water”

The notion that the stone might remain at the top of the hill becomes a terrifying one. And Erich Fried expresses the fear that the stone could wear away and there would be nothing left to work on.
“Sisyphus
dusty,
and sated
from the flour
of his rock
fears the stone will wear away”

Sisyphos behaut den Stein (1973), Wolfgang Mattheuer
Sisyphos behaut den Stein (1973), Wolfgang Mattheuer
Camus saw in Sisyphus. They not only take up the detached gaze that hovers over things during his descent from the peak, but also the activity of the creative subject who appropriates things. These aspects are not actually mutually antagonistic but are interfaced by an artistic practice that places itself at the service of the matter and is always in contact with the material. Here, there is no despairing laughter in the face of divine superiority, nor any fear that things might change. In Flow, the sculptors enter into a state during their creative work that can lead them from the effort of repetition to happiness. Naturally, it is no coincidence that happiness is a possible outcome of work. It arises from skilled craftsmanship, an outstanding aesthetic sense, and an openness and curiosity that is second to none. This is the foundation on which intuition can take over and the extraordinary art of Hüter and Neumann can become reality. Their artworks still reflect the aesthetic practice, the movement of their hands and the thinking that produced the art.
As such, it is no coincidence that the old story about Sisyphus has been updated by two people who – as Emilia and Urban once described it to me – think with their hands. Through their artistic works they have joined the short list of those who add a new dimension to very old material.

And we contemporaries stand by and gaze in amazement.

Leon Joskowitz