Sandro Kopp - Intensive Care Units – By Marcello Farabegoli

Who am I? What are we?
Thoughts on the work of Sandro Kopp

Sammlung Friedrichshof Stadtraum, Vienna, 3 June – 30 July 2021
By Marcello Farabegoli – Curator Friedrichshof Collection

We live in a time dominated by science and technology. Man has robbed nature of its magic, and
with his fantastic technologies runs the danger of destroying the world or his own kind. At the
same time, technology affords us the chance to undo our capital mistakes and ensure the
survival of our species for eternity by one day possibly opening up extra-terrestrial habitats to
us. Because in about five to seven billion years our most important and sustainable source of
energy – the Sun – will begin to transform and destroy our Earth. Our dearest star, which was
dedicated to Helios, God of the Sun, and later Apollo, God of light, healing and the arts, is
nothing other than a giant nuclear fusion reactor that is slowly but steadily consuming its
resources. This thought may seem infinitely far away and therefore irrelevant, but in times of a
pandemic, such apocalyptic ideas may move closer to our consciousness. Perhaps the “selfie
culture” of our time is an expression of our collective unconscious fear of the end of the earth, as
if we could actually immortalize ourselves and our loved ones with countless megapixel images
in the cloud…

Since photography was first invented in the 19th century, and all the more today that a
smartphone can “shoot” perfect pictures or record almost cinematic videos, creating portraits or
self-portraits with a brush and oil paint or the more modern felt tip pen almost appears to be an
anachronism. But Sandro Kopp does just that, maybe even in defiance of our time, with a
consistency and devotion that leaves a deep impression. As much as a talented, sensitive artist
may work in a “classical” manner, he will not remain untouched by the zeitgeist. And indeed
there is a contemporary spirit in Kopp’s works, particularly in the way he works, which becomes
evident in his first Vienna solo exhibition.

The artist, who was born in 1978 in Heidelberg (Germany), emigrated to New Zealand at the age
of twenty-two and has lived in Scotland since 2006, shows three bodies of work in the Vienna
branch of the Friedrichshof Collection, in the so-called STADTRAUM: “The New Me III” (2020), his
Eye Portraits (from 2017) and his Lockdown Zoom Portraits (2020-21). I would like to point out
Kopp’s concise “artist statement” about the current exhibition, which was published in the folder
accompanying the exhibition, as well as a few interesting texts on the bodies of work just
mentioned, available on his website1. I am therefore not presuming to think up or write

1
Regarding the self-portraits “The New Me” I would like to point out the text “Portraits for the artist” by Denis e Wendel-
Poray written on the occasion of the exhibition “Take Time” in the Gallery Eric Dupont in Paris (2016), and regarding the Eye
Portraits I will mention the text “The Faithful Interpreter – On the paintings of Sandro Kopp” by Jasper Sharp on the
occasion of the exhibition “mEYEcelium” in the Palazzo Grimani Museum in Venice (2019). Sandro Kopp’s Skype Portraits,
which he showed in particular in the exhibition “There You Are” at the Gallery Lehmann Maupin in New York (2012), were
examined by Carolin Ackermann in the text “Sandro Kopp – ANALOGUE“ on the occasion of the exhibition “Analogue” in
the Gallery Antoine Laurentin in Paris (2014).

“The New Me III” (2020)

We are familiar with famous self-portraits by Albrecht Dürer, Leonardo da Vinci, Rembrandt van
Rijn, Artemisia Gentileschi, Vincent van Gogh, Pierre-Auguste Renoir, Max Beckmann and Lucian
Freud, to name only a few in chronological order. Reportedly there have been self-portraits since
antiquity, but this special practice only became established during the renaissance. It was then,
according to the most prevalent interpretation, that the “self-confident” artist began to view
himself as not purely a craftsman, but as an equal to the intellectuals of his time, the
philosophers, scientist and literati. Wikipedia says2: “Apart from the examination of one’s own
physiognomy as the always present and cheap model, many self-portraits also bear witness to
the artist’s inner confrontation with himself, and his own changing moods and transience.” This
is also true for Sandro Kopp, although he transcends it by far. Sandro Kopp painted his first series
of self-portraits in 2008 (“The New Me”), then again in 2013 (“The New Me II”) and most
recently in November/December 2020 “The New Me III”, now being shown in Vienna. For
twenty-eight consecutive days, a so-called lunar month, the artist sits down in front of a mirror
for hours and paints his likeness. While Sandro usually likes to smile and his face exudes a
cheerful, solar disposition, in the self-portraits his face appears particularly serious. This has
nothing to do with self-importance, as is so often the case with photographic portraits, but is the
result of hours of focused self-observation. At the same time, this gives a majestic quality to his
slim, well-formed face. This, however, also stems from the artist’s intensive engagement with
late Egyptian art, in which the first portraits appear to have originated, as tomb paintings – the
mummy or fayum portraits.

From the perspective of a former natural scientist Sandro Kopp’s “painterly process of selfknowledge”
appears like an experiment: the artist attempts to establish the same or similar
framework conditions in order to conduct a kind of measurement. On the one hand he measures
the daily “fluctuations” in his creative capacity. Some portraits are more realistic, others are only
hinted at in an impressionist manner, a rather gloomy self-portrait consists mostly of a lush
pencil sketch. Another gives one the feeling of recognising the exposed muscles of his face. In
another one his features appear smudged, as if in a nightmare. The different colours surrounding
the head are remarkable and might have a connection to the artist’s mood. Sandro also makes
mistakes in his painting, he recognises and corrects them, but also partly leaves them, as a part
of his painting and cognitive process.

On a higher, metaphysical plane, this body of works is about the “New” and the “Me”. What is
new about me? What will remain? Greek philosopher Heraclitus’ panta rhei (everything flows) is
juxtaposed with his contemporary Parmenides’ fundamental question of being behind
appearance. In fact, we are changing every moment, physically as well as mentally. Our mood
depends on many factors like our recent experiences, a sentence, a touch, our sleep or the
current dream. In our body, around ten billion cells die every day, and just as many are newly
born. But not only we are constantly changing, our entire environment is as well: the
temperature, the climate, the lighting conditions… . In one single day the earth moves about 2.5
million kilometres along its elliptical path, and the universe is likely to also have grown by about
6.4 million kilometres. In spite of all these infinite changes, something seems to remain that
allows the continuity of our consciousness in time: the self. Thus the impression arises that with
his self-portraits, Sandro Kopp wants to “measure” precisely this mysterious constant and
therefore essentially pursues the existential question of our innermost being: Where do we
come from? Where are we going? Who or what are we?

Eye Portraits (from 2017)

But let us leave the self-portrait and dive into the Eye Portraits by Sandro Kopp, almost a
hundred of which the artist has embedded on a large mural painting in the Stadtraum. In the
space, most of them are facing his self-portraits and are looking at them and the exhibition
guests spiritedly, curiously, dreamily or simply in the ways in which a hundred different eyes can
look at us. The eyes, as we know, are the windows to the soul. But what even is this soul? Is it
“only” electromagnetic waves buzzing around in the highly complex neuronal networks of our
brains? Or is the enigma of our consciousness grounded in the macroscopic quantum effects of
the microtubules of our brain neurons, as suggested by Sir Roger Penrose? Or is there something
that transcends the physical after all? With the Byzantine-looking gold leaf background that the
artist applies carefully behind many of the eyes, is he maybe alluding to this non-profane,
spiritual plane?

When you look deeply into another’s eyes, sometimes there is a feeling of shame, as if the other
were seeing us naked, could sense our most intimate feelings, longings, our darkest and
brightest thoughts. Maybe only the fine eye muscles that are shaped by character and moods
over the years let us know the inner life of their owners. But what is this shine in the eyes of
children or in the eyes of a loved one and not least in Sandro Kopp’s Eye Portraits?

At first glance Sandro Kopp’s eye portraits appear very material, sensual, I would even say
fleshly, as if the painter had dissected them and not just painted them on the 10 x 10 to 20 x 20
cm wooden cassettes, but carefully encased them within them. Looking at them for a longer
time, they develop a life force of their own. They speak to us. We feel the intimate relationship
between their owners and the painter. In several works one can even recognise the artist
painting the portrait in the reflection of the pupil. The eyes belong to family members, friends,
highly interesting personalities and not just a few celebrities whom Sandro Kopp, in his rich life,
has met again and again all over the world. The oversized portraits were created in his studio in
Scotland, in cafés, in theatres, on the set, in hotels, even in toilets if the lighting conditions
required it. It is astounding how easily Sandro can not only recount the names of the eye
owners, but also the smallest details about the creation of these many Eye Portraits.

The mural that spans across rooms, created by Sandro Kopp in the Stadtraum, boldly and
inspired by music, appears like a landscape, in which a shining yellow monastery-like structure
rises up triumphantly. Here his non-figurative, gestural vein also appears, possibly concealing an
actionist element within it. Large, monumental non-figurative works by Sandro Kopp will shortly
be shown in particular in the film “The French Dispatch” (2020) by Wes Anderson.

Lockdown Zoom Portraits (2020-21)

Dulcis in fundo we move to the upper, cabinet-like room of the Friedrichshof Collection’s
Stadtraum, where thirty-six so-called Lockdown Zoom Portraits by Sandro Kopp hang on the wall
as if suspended in air. With a certain serenity, they look down in the direction of the
self-portraits of their creator.

It is remarkable Sandro Kopp had already recognised the influence of Skype and therefore also
its successor apps in 2008 and examined them artistically. With respect to these portraits, the
artist speaks of a “mediated presence”. Since the Corona pandemic he has primarily used Zoom,
the most prevalent of the platforms. During the online conversations, the artist drew the
portraits on A5 format sheets of paper from a sketchbook using light-sensitive felt tip pens. They
alternate between illustrations in bold, striking colours and delicate, rather withdrawn sketches.
Some portraits are already a bit faded by the light, which does not bother the artist at all – on
the contrary: it is an intended characteristic of these works, which thereby also allude to our
transience. Sandro Kopp explores how the virtual presence of these people he comes in contact
with manifests and affects him. Particularly in times of a pandemic, where physical meetings and
travel must be reduced to the absolutely necessary, Skype, Zoom and the likes of them turn out
to be essential means to maintain human contact. The same technology that makes us amble
through the world looking fixedly at our smartphones allows us, in these difficult times, the best
possible connectedness – not only in business, but also with family, friends and acquaintances.
In these circumstances, the inherent contradiction of technology becomes apparent once more.
In these small, fleeting works by Sandro Kopp technology and art therefore seem to merge in a
way that is reminiscent of the original term techné. This seemingly harmonious connection could
therefore also be interpreted as an approach to a solution to the tense relationship between
technology and nature or man and the world.

Thanks to Sandro Kopp’s exhibition in Vienna, we embrace being infected by his palpable love
for painting and drawing, by his skill, his enthusiasm for colour, his dedication and intense
attention to human features and eyes, to humanness itself, and not least by his far-sighted
intuition as well as his positive, hopeful attitude that shines through in his personality and in his
works, completely and without reservations.

Marcello Farabegoli
Curator Friedrichshof Collection

More essays