In short
Podcast Summary: This Cultural Life - Anselm Kiefer
Episode Overview Podcast Title: This Cultural Life Episode Title: Anselm Kiefer Host: John Wilson Guest: Anselm Kiefer, renowned German artist Release Date: [Add Release Date]
Episode Description The episode features a deep dive into the life and work of Anselm Kiefer, a prominent artist known for his exploration of Germany's cultural history and the legacy of fascism through his art. Kiefer discusses his childhood memories shaped by post-war Germany, his creative process, and the profound influences on his work, including his admiration for Vincent van Gogh.
---
Key Themes and Discussions
Early Life and Background
- Birth and Environment:
- Born in southern Germany in 1945, shortly before the end of WWII.
- Kiefer's birthplace was bombed on the night of his birth, which influenced his worldview.
- Grew up playing in the ruins left behind by the war, which he found fascinating rather than traumatic.
Artistic Philosophy
- Exploration of Ruins:
- Kiefer views ruins not as the end but as the beginning of new narratives.
- His work often features themes of destruction and resurrection, signifying ongoing renewal.
Artistic Process
- Work on Paintings:
- Kiefer frequently alters his artwork, even after they seem finished, believing that a painting is never truly complete.
- Utilizes materials like straw and molten lead to create textured, layered works that reflect the passage of time.
Historical Context
- War and Memory:
- His art addresses the psychological impact of war and the necessity of confronting Germany’s history.
- Discussed controversial early works that incorporated his father's Wehrmacht coat and Nazi salute, emphasizing the naivety in his explorations of identity and history.
Influences
- Vincent van Gogh:
- Kiefer's admiration for Van Gogh is evident, as he reflects on how Van Gogh's themes of nature and humanity resonate within his own work.
- His recent exhibition "Kiefer/Van Gogh" pairs his artwork with that of Van Gogh, showcasing the intertextual dialogue.
Literature and Poetry
- Inspiration from Paul Celan:
- Kiefer draws inspiration from the poetry of Paul Celan, especially "Death Fugue," which reflects on Holocaust experiences.
- He often incorporates poetic lines into his paintings, creating a multi-layered narrative.
Alchemy and Transformation
- Use of Lead:
- Kiefer’s work frequently features lead, symbolizing permanence and transformation.
- He discusses the concept of alchemy, relating it to the metamorphic nature of art and life.
Current Work and Legacy
- Studio Life:
- Kiefer describes his large studio complex in France, now a foundation for public visits.
- He expresses a sense of ongoing creativity, stating he works more than ever at the age of 80.
Personality and Approach
- Childlike Wonder:
- Kiefer emphasizes the importance of maintaining a childlike perspective in art, pointing to the joy and curiosity that drives innovation.
---
Key Takeaways
- Kiefer’s Work: Anselm Kiefer's art serves as a powerful exploration of memory, destruction, and renewal, deeply rooted in his experiences of post-war Germany.
- Philosophical Approach: His philosophy on ruins transcends trauma, emphasizing rebirth and ongoing transformation.
- Cultural Reflection: Kiefer’s engagement with historical events and literary influences underscores the importance of confronting one’s past to inform artistic expression.
- Artistic Process: His experimental techniques highlight a dynamic relationship with materials, where art is a living, evolving entity.
---
Conclusion The episode showcases Kiefer's complex relationship with history, art, and identity, offering insights into the mind of one of contemporary art’s most significant figures. His reflections invite listeners to consider the broader implications of art in understanding cultural legacies and the human experience.
Written by AI. May contain mistakes. Listen to the episode to check what was said.
Transcript
Automatic transcript. May contain errors.0:00BBC Sounds. Music, radio, podcasts. You're about to listen to This Cultural Life. Episodes are released weekly, wherever you get your podcasts. But if you're in the UK, you can listen to the latest episode first on BBC Sounds, seven days earlier than anywhere else. Do subscribe to This Cultural Life on BBC Sounds and make sure you have push notifications turned on and we'll let you know as soon as new episodes are available.
0:32Welcome to This Cultural Life, the series in which some of the world's leading artistic figures reveal the influences and experiences that have inspired their own creativity. I'm John Wilson and my guest in this episode is Anselm Kiefer, one of the world's greatest living artists. Born in Germany at the end of the Second World War, much of his work in paintings, sculptures and vast installation pieces has addressed his country's history and culture and has asked difficult questions about the legacy of fascism and conflict. His paintings, thickly layered and sometimes embellished with straw or molten lead, often depict dark rutted fields or dense forests.
1:13Kiefer is renowned for the size of his work and for his industrial-scale studio complexes in France, where he's lived for over 30 years. His work is shown in galleries all around the world, including the Royal Academy in London, which has paired him with one of his artistic heroes for a new exhibition called Kiefer Van Gogh.
1:34Anselm Kiefer, welcome to This Cultural Life. Oh, I like to be with the BBC because I look always BBC in my television in France. That's great to hear. Good to have you here with us. You were born in southern Germany in a town in the Black Forest in 1945, a few months before the end of the Second World War. And in fact, I think on the night that you were born, your town was bombed in an Allied area. We was, so my mother was going to the hospital and there was a room in the cave of the hospital because it was dangerous. The basement. In the basement I was born. And in this night our house was bombed.
2:16Can you imagine? Destroyed? Yeah. Nobody would have survived if I wouldn't have been born. You know, life and death is always combined, no? So much of your work, of course, in the years since has dealt with the physical and the psychological legacy of the war. So are your earliest memories of ruins and rubble? The time when I was born, I think I have no explicit memories. Sure, when you were growing up. But I had no Spielzeug. I had no things to play with. So I played always with the ruin on the other side of our house, you know. Because you had no toys. Yeah, no, I had no toys. And I built buildings with two floors.
2:59Can you imagine? Before I was going to school, two floors. I had the material in abundance, you know, that was fantastic. Using the rubble, the bricks? The bricks, just the bricks. And I found some wood for the floors, you know, for the first floor, second floor. And I was sitting there while it was raining. I was very happy to have my own house. You were very happy. So these are not traumatic post-war memories then? It's not traumatic. It's the contrary. I like these ruins. I still like ruins. Yes. Well, I was going to say the ruins, the imagery of destruction and ruination has recurred through so much of your work over 50 years.
3:41You know, because ruins is a beginning. It's not the end. It's a beginning of something. The end is if something stays for hundreds of years. It's the end. But the beginning is a ruin. So that imagery of ruination then, is that a conscious reference, do you think, to those childhood memories? This I don't know. I'm not a psychologist. But I think it's more philosophical. For me, ruins are the beginning of something new. You know, I destroy my paintings all the time. I destroy them. I put them out in the weather. I put them in the snow. I burn them. I put electrolysis on them. I do all kinds of things to ruin them.
4:20And then they get up again. Resurrection.
4:33I painted a long time on this painting and added layers on layers and layers. And now I go back to the beginning.
4:52Is that because something happens that you can't predict in those paintings, but you enjoy that process of change and resurrection. No, it's an enthoushment, disapproval with my painting. Disapproval, you can say this in English? Disapproval? Disapproval. I don't like it. Like dissatisfaction? Dissatisfaction. And I hate them sometimes, you know, I hate them. And I get aggressive, you know. There's a war in my head, you know. You literally, you hate the paintings. You finish a painting, or you think it's finished, and then you start to kind of hack away, scrape it, burn it. It can be one month later or a year later or ten years later that I get really, really angry.
5:34So a painting is never really ever finished? No, it's not finished. It's a process. Even when it is displayed in a gallery? When it's bought, I cannot do anything anymore. But if it's in the gallery and not bought, I take it back with me. So it's an ongoing process then? Yeah, sure, sure, sure. Tell me about your parents. What did they do? So my father was in the war. He was an officer. Not high up, but captain. The captain in the Wehrmacht. Yeah, yeah. But he was in the... As he could... He painted a lot of horses. He was very liked by the general. Painted horses? Yeah, yeah. He was a horse painter.
6:19Not like Stubbs, but... So he was in the central where they do the decisions, Generalstab. So he still had all the plans for Russia. So I still have them. Really? Yeah. All of the sort of the German forces? Not all, but some of the plans. Unternehmen, Wintergewitter, Unternehmen and so weiter. He was wounded near the end of the war. Did he ever talk about his experiences with you? No. That's an absolutely strange thing nobody talked to me about. You know, they have the Kristallnacht, how is this called in English? Kristallnacht. In 1938, no? In Germany, when they destroyed all the synagogues and stuff.
7:05And I'm sure in my town, Donaesingen, there was some destruction too. Of Jewish property and shops. Yes. But they never told me anything about this, you know. It didn't exist. But how was growing up, the aftermath of the war, the destruction, how was that explained to you and other children, what had happened? Oh, there was, it was just said, there was a war, you know. No, no, it was, they didn't speak about, and I became aware of the things when I had a disk by accident, what the Americans made. A record. A record to inform the Germans what happened, you know. and then there was voices of Hitler, Goering, Goebbels and I was so touched by these voices, you know.
7:58You were, because this is the first time you realized it. Yeah, yeah. So it was an educational LP explaining to Germans. From the Americans to the poor Germans who were so horrible. Yeah, and this brought me to, then I made these actions because it's the best to do an action to conceive something. Well, you say your actions, some of your earliest works, in fact, a series of photographs called Occupations, which you made in 1969. You took self-portraits in various locations around Europe whilst wearing, I believe, your father's old Wehrmacht greatcoat and performing the Sieg Heil, the Nazi salute, which, of course, had been banned in Germany since 1945.
8:38So this was a series of illegal acts that you were performing. You've said many times in the past that what you were doing was examining very forcefully how the war was simply just not talked about in Germany in those post-war years. And the works became very, very controversial. Were they intended as a provocation? No, no, it was more naive. I just wanted to know, you know, and when you put yourself there, then you get in conversations and stuff. So it was, yeah, it was naive. Because you made these works in 69. I don't think you exhibited them for several years, maybe 74, 75. No, the first time I showed them really was...
9:21Ah, there was once a show in Montpellier. And what was the reaction? The reaction, they wanted to kill me. Were you surprised? They wanted to beat me up. A little bit, yes. But the chef of the show, of this big show, he protected me then. He understood. I remember very well the situation after the World War II, time zero. You know that German politics created this word, and that's absolutely wrong. And this is one of the biggest misunderstanding of our time, I think, because there is no time zero. You cannot cut a historical stream from one day to the other. You cannot believe that after 1945 and the Americans came, and the English, that the people changed from one day to the other.
10:16Nobody can believe that. But they tried to make believe that. At a time when the far right is again on the rise in Germany, the AfD party, do these works suddenly have new relevance, new resonance, do you think? you know today I wouldn't do this again not at all because this could be interpreted in a completely wrong way I wouldn't do that but now you know I always said the swamp it's still alive I said always I knew you cannot just have a year 45 and then it's all finished so you mean the swamp of fascism yeah that's still I said it's still there it will come up. So you made those works originally out of naivety.
11:05Yeah. Whereas now, after five decades of work, you have a better idea of how to present the world and explore the world. Now I have, I studied a lot, you know, a lot about this war, about all this. And I have now a real knowledge about it. That's different when you start with the knowledge, you know. You know, I don't know if you know the book who came out two years ago. there was something I thought I knew all. But this was even worse than what I knew before. You know, when the Russians came to Germany, and so then the Nazis, the SS, had to exhumify, exhumify, exhumify the bodies of people they killed.
11:49To burn them quickly, that they don't find it. And this, you can imagine, to do this, and then people who was in Auschwitz had to exhume them, the Jews themselves. And sometimes mothers exhume their baby. Can you imagine? You cannot imagine something more horrible, no? And this was published, I think, two years ago. I bought it, and this was really, oh. So you're still learning things about Germany's past, which is shocking you. And it's a subject which you are still there for. And you know what I don't understand in German TV, There is a lot about Hitler, you know. He's quite a star there, you know.
12:31It's too much, perhaps. But the young people don't know this. They don't look at it. You say you wouldn't make those works, those works that you called The Occupations, you wouldn't make those again today. But how do you feel about the original works when you see them? No, I think it's as it was, you know. I have no feelings about this. It's what I did. It's just what you did. so you don't feel any kind of particular artistic pride in what you were doing, the fact that they were kind of brave? No, no, I'm not pride. I just did it, you know, to know something. No, I'm not pride.
13:10On This Cultural Life, Anselm Kiefer, my guests choose the influences and experiences that have most inspired their own creative lives. And your first choice for this programme is Vincent van Gogh. When did you first become aware of him? This was when I was very young. I would say just before I was going to school, we had some books in our house, my parents. Not so much, but Bangkok we had. So I studied the book, and so it took a long time until I saw the original, but the books I studied. Which paintings of his in particular are in this book? Oh, there were sunflower paintings, starry night paintings.
13:49All these paintings. The classics, the famous ones. What was it about those paintings that particularly appealed to you, do you think? You know, I would say that I couldn't say this in those times yet, but today I think it was a combination of the things on the earth and the universe. So the relation between the microcosmos and the macrocosmos. So the fields that he was portrayed. Yeah, the fields, but also the starry night. The stars above. The stars above. The starry night, yes. So this was always what I'm most interested in, this combination of microcosmos and the macrocosmos. When did you first start making art yourself seriously or start thinking that you might want to be a artist?
14:34I have a collection of, I started with three, four. My father collected it all. And with five, I was really a genius. Then you lose a little bit, you know. But when I look at my paintings at five, it was fantastic. And did your parents encourage you? Did they realize you? My father encouraged me, yeah. Because when you say he painted horses, was he a good artist then? No. He just enjoyed it? He just enjoyed it. And he became, you know, after the war he couldn't study because he was in the Wehrmacht, he was officer. But then he was a helper in a school. An assistant. He didn't study. Right. But then he became, later he became a professor.
15:16and so he was working. So you had talent from a young age and you enjoyed art. In 1963, I think when you were probably 17. You know, talent is a word I never use to say if an artist is good or not. Because talent can be the reason for bad art. Right. What do you mean by that? Yeah. If an artist is so able to do things like this, but it's no content and it's... Oh, you mean if technically? Yeah, technically. Technically they can portray something, they can paint a horse like your father could do. Yeah, yeah, yeah. But it doesn't mean he's necessarily a good artist. No. Right. But talent is judged, and you were judged in 1963 to be a very talented artist when you were 17.
16:07You won a prize called the John Walter Prize, which gave you a scholarship. This was even more about my writing, because I had to write a journal, and for this I think I got the prize. A diary. That's it, yes. But from what I understand, this prize allowed you, gave you a scholarship and allowed you to study Vincent van Gogh. You followed in his footsteps. You travelled to the Netherlands and to Paris and Lyon and of course to Arles in the south of France. What did you learn about van Gogh in that time, do you think? It was the first time that I saw a lot of originals. So Hogue-Wil-Louvre in Anheim, in Holland.
16:43Yes. Hogue-Wil-Louvre the park and then there was this big museum with all the Van Goghs. And I saw the first time really the originals, you know. I didn't see this before. Then in south of France, I lived three weeks with a farmer and it was so nice to give me a room. Then I could see all the subjects of Van Gogh, you know, all the things. So the subjects, the environment that he saw. I was in Saint-Rémy, I was everywhere. I made copies of Van Gogh. I made it like this. Drawings. The self-portraits I did. You have just opened a new exhibition at the Royal Academy in London after a very similar show in Amsterdam earlier this year, which pairs your work with that of Van Gogh.
17:30Are all of the works that we see in the exhibition made in response to specific works by Van Gogh? Yeah, sure, sure. For all the drawings, as you will see, I made them during my travel. I had paper in my knapsack. Knapsack? Your backpack. Backpack. I had the paper, the charcoal with me, and the spray even. That's why I was... It was heavy. And I did all this, a lot of drawings. I think I did 100 or so drawings of the landscape. And they look like Van Gogh, yes. So you're quite proud of those works then? Looking back, you recognise that that was the start of your artistic career? Yes, I'm proud because I was able to copy Van Gogh.
18:17Right. It was. Even today, cornfields and sunflowers are images, obviously very familiar from the paintings of Van Gogh, but they are images that have recurred in so much of your work. Why do you return to that imagery time and time again? You know, the paintings you see now, these big cornfields, I made recently when I had to give a speech in the Tate Britain about Van Gogh. And then I thought, oh, I do some paintings for me to get in the mood to speak about Van Gogh. I have to do something to get some ideas, you know. But that imagery is so strong, isn't it? The cornfields rose stretching into the distance and then the individual sunflowers.
19:02very often your sunflowers have been destroyed or they appear to have withered and died. Also, there are paintings in which you use straw as a material on the canvas, and then often it's burned. Yeah, I burn a lot. I burn a lot because fire is a big helper. It's transformative. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, fire. So, you know, fire is an alchemist. The alchemists use all fire, you know. Were you familiar with cornfields from the Van Gogh paintings as a child, or did you have cornfields and sunflowers around where you grew up? No, certainly. I lived in a village. There was fields of cornfields and all this, and they were higher than me as a kid, you know.
19:47So I can imagine it was like a forest, you know. It was very impressive, yes. Recently, the great German film director Wim Wenders made a documentary about you and your life and your work, and there are flashback scenes in which a small child plays you as a boy, and there's a scene in which he's lying in a field of sunflowers.
20:09Is that recreating a specific memory? This I did in the south of France. There I have a big piece of land, you know, some hectares. And there I grow sunflowers, by the way, with the grains of Japan, because they are taller. Oh, really? Okay. Japan makes all better. Japanese sunflowers. No, it's true. In Provence. And though I was lying underneath, and then if they are ripe, the sunflowers, they get like this. They turn. Yes. And then these sunflowers look like the firmament. It's because of black and a little bit glittering and so on.
20:54After studying Van Gogh as a teenager, you began your own drawing and painting and photography. And then you met the great German conceptual sculptor, Joseph Beuys. Did he become a mentor to you? You know, I met Beuys when I had already finished my studies, in a way, in 71. And then I met Beuys, so he wasn't beginning with me. But I think he was, I don't know if it was an influence, but I admired him, you know. I still think he's the most important artist of the second half of the 20th century. And you took your paintings that you were already making and strapped them to the roof of your car and would drive them up to Dusseldorf to show you.
21:35Yeah, because I was in the forest, in Odenwald Forest. Which is a long way away. But what did you get from Boyce as kind of a confirmation that you were on the right track? Yes, because when I showed him the photos with the Seekheil salute, he didn't look as provocation. So he said, just a good action. He said, you know. He said he looked at it from the professional point. He was also, of course, an artist trying to grapple with Germany's past. Yeah, yeah. What did you learn from him? I think it was more influence on to look at other works, you know, to get wider in what I appreciate and so.
22:23Your next choice of creative inspiration for this cultural life, Anselm Kiefer, is poetry, and specifically the work of Paul Salan, the Romanian-born poet and Holocaust survivor. And you've previously written that, and I'm going to quote you here. You say, poems are like boys in the sea, you swim from one to another, and without them, you are lost. So are your paintings very often made directly in response to poem? Sometimes, yes, but mostly not. I do a painting and then when it has a certain state, it comes some lines in my head, you know. Lines from poems? I knew once 200 poems by heart, you know, really.
23:04Now I forget them. But pieces stay still. And then the pieces come to the painting. And as I write a lot, it was a long time, big decision to make if I'm a painter or a writer, you know. Even though you thought you were probably a genius at the age of five as a painter. Yeah. How were you as a writer growing up? It was a serious consideration. In these five I had no writing. But yes, I had some success in writing. When did you first read the poetry of Paul Celan? The first one was in school. Schwarze Milch, we drink in the früh, we drink in the evening, we drink. the first poem. This is called Death Fugue.
23:45Death Fugue. And this is the most simple poem. Simple in the way of you can explain it. The aphorism is clear. Later it's different, you know. And this was the first one, but then I read more and more poems. That poem is called Totus Fugue. Totus Fugue, yeah. Death Fugue in English. And it's a poem probably reflecting on his experience of the death camp. Yeah, because he was not in a death camp, but his father, his mother, was killed. Yes. And all his life long, he had the problem that he couldn't help them. He was not going to the death camp, you know, by accident in a way. But he could have joined them if he would have wanted, but he didn't.
24:28So what does that poem in particular mean to you? Why has that one inspired you so much? Because it describes the situation. These poems proved that after Auschwitz you can still do writings poems. You know, I don't know who said this. Black milk of dawn. We drink you at night. We drink you at noon and mornings. We drink you at even. We drink and we drink. A man lives in the house. Your golden hair, Margareta. Your ashen hair, Shulamit. He plays with the serpents. He calls, play sweeter of death. Death is a master from Germany. He calls, stroke darker the violins. Then you'll climb a smoke into the sky.
25:29Then you will have a grave in the clouds. There one lies, uncrowded.
25:42This poem was easiest to conceive. But other poems, there are no more metaphors. You know, they are like the French poet. Malamé was the first poet in France, after Rimbaud and so on, where you cannot see any more metaphors. Metaphor. Metaphor. So you can say it's kind of abstraction. You cannot explain the poem. There's no more metaphor. And with Celan, in his late poems, it's the same thing. But there's one difference, that in Celan's poems, there is no metaphor, but there is a kind of metaphor because you always see through him his story. In 2022, you had an exhibition at the Grand Palais in Paris called For Porcelain, featuring sculptures and installations and I think 19 or 20 large scale canvas paintings.
26:43Was that show the culmination of a lifetime's inspiration by Salat? It was for all the inspiration of the big room of the Grand Palais. I liked it. the Grand Palais. It was difficult. It was when you have to do something really difficult. And so then you it's a defeat, no? A struggle? You have struggle too. Yes. Okay. This was I liked it because it was really difficult. And you say that you considered working as a writer rather than a painter. But text has recurred, of course, throughout your work, isn't it? You use lines Yeah, I'm full of these poets and things. So it's in me, you know. I incorporated all this and it comes out from time to time.
Read the full transcript
27:36Another choice that you have made for this cultural life, Anselm Kiefer, is the subject of alchemy. Originally the medieval science of trying to turn lead into gold, Now it's a phrase which is associated with less specific transformations of substances. Where does your interest in alchemy come from? Oh, this comes from, it's long ago. I don't remember what it was, but I think alchemy is the first thing of science, you know, of your big English hero, Newton. He was alchemist. He was scientist too. You think he was just a scientist, you know, but he was alchemist too. So he combined both. That's very interesting.
28:21And as you've already said, change and decay are very often built into your work. You often use materials that are bound to mutate over time. And then you treat them so that they carry on changing after somebody else has bought them. So they're kind of slightly falling apart if they're hung on a gallery wall. Nice stories. You enjoy that process of mutability then of the substances. Why is that so important? Because, you know, there is nothing forever. Nothing can, it's forever. It's all changed, you know, around you. So you can pretend it stays, but it's nonsense. Does that idea of transformation relate back to your Catholic upbringing as a child?
29:06I don't think so much because, you know, if the Pope speaks ex cathedra, you know the expression ex cathedra, then this is without any change through the centuries, you know. It's the contrary of changing, you know. I was thinking more of the symbolism of the Eucharist, of the idea of transubstantiation. You mean the transformation of the bread into the body and the wine into the blood of Christ. Yeah, but this is one time that they did it, and it stays like this, you know. But you were brought up a Catholic, though, were you? Yeah, yeah, sure. But not anymore? No, no. You're not prime to see it?
29:45No, no. Just getting back to the idea of alchemy, originally, as I say, it was the process of trying to turn lead into gold, but you use so much lead in your work. Yeah. What is the symbolic value of lead in artistic terms? Yes. So it's a lot. First, if you have a book out of lead pages, you can put in something, a drawing something, it will stay there for one million years because no rayons can go through the lead. No, what is this, what the sun sends out and stuff. Oh, the radiation. Radiation from the sun. Radiations cannot go through. That's one thing. Oh, right. It's complete protection. And when you say books, because you've made thousands of books made from lead, so the pages are made from lead.
30:33Yeah, and there are drawings in things that nobody can see. Lead is an incredibly heavy substance, and you used the lead not only to make the leaves, the pages of books, but also feathers, dresses, materials which are often associated with lightness. Yeah, yeah, but I like always the contrast, light and heavy. You know when in Egyptian mythology, when the soul of a man dies and the soul goes in the other world. Right, in the underworld. There's a god with a wagon. The scales. Scales, yes. They put on one side the heart of the man, on the other side a feather. If the heart is heavier than the feather, he goes to her.
31:16Right, okay. And that's the idea that you're playing with then? Yeah, yeah. With the feathers, the books. The feather and, yeah, yeah. But lightness, the concept of lightness is really important to a lot of your work, isn't it? Yeah, sure, sure. And lead is light because, you know, I throw it out of a painting and then the painting gets alive, you know. It gets wings and things. It's fantastic, you know. Lead can do all kinds of things. Well, you say you throw lead at the painting. What you mean is molten lead. You melt it down. Heavy and hot lead I put on the painting and then some stays on the painting, some fall down then.
31:56But when you... And it burns through the paint in the canvas. You would see how I throw it on the painting. You see the lightness of the lead, you know? It goes everywhere and makes something. You use so much lead in your work and you have done over the years. You once told me that you bought the lead from the roof of Cologne Cathedral when it was being... That's a long time used already. Long time used. But you took the whole, they were refurbishing the cathedral. Yeah, I was there. What did you do with that lead? Oh, I did a lot. I did books. I put it on paintings. I did a lot of things. But it was very soon consumed.
32:29Used up for the art. You know, the cathedral has not so much lead. It was consumed very, very, very quickly, yes. Lead is also a very poisonous substance. Do you have to be careful using it? No, I'm very careful for my assistants. They have things who take the air away. what is this? Oh yes, the extractor fans. The extractor fans. That's all very fine, but I don't use it. You don't? No. You're not careful when you're using it? Do you get blood tests regularly? Yeah, but not for the lead, for other reasons. No, my lead is, if there is a paper, you know, for the line, and mine is outside the paper.
33:11You mean if you did get tested for lead poisoning, it would be off the scale? Is that what you mean? But I don't... For me, it's not poisoned. You are renowned for the vast scale of so much of your work. What is the significance of the huge size of your paintings? You know, this is all nonsense. When critics write about the sizes, the size doesn't make the quality or the not quality of a painting, not at all. And look at the Renaissance tableau or all these Renaissance painters. Their paintings are bigger than mine. But they are big paintings. Relative to today, to many artists, to most artists, you do make, I mean, you can't deny you are associated with size and scale, monumental artwork.
33:58But size and scale is for me not a, it's not an argument. It's nonsense. It's like I am, you know. It's my activity, you know. But there's no particular... I like to work with my body, you know. I'm dancing in front of the paintings and they can be far. It's a very physical process. Yes, because you don't think only with your head, you know. You think also with your womb. Womb? Womb. You think with this too. You don't have a womb though. No, no, I mean the... You mean your gut? Gut. Sorry, your gut, right? No, you think with your gut. The gut has structures like the brain, you know this, no? So, so, so, so, so.
34:42alcohol okay good
34:57the process of making your paintings demands it is such a physical process but also just to get around your studio spaces you're cycling or you're using kind of mechanical hoists and lifts and and miniature tractors to drive around. That's not normally the way that artists work. It's quite unusual, isn't it? No. Remember Richard. Richard Serra. Richard Serra, yes. Yeah. He needed bigger machines. He was a sculptor who made work on a huge scale. The paintings and sculptures do need enormous gallery space, and the various studio complexes that you work in and have worked in contain hundreds of artworks and installations and archives and materials and libraries.
35:40You know, a few years ago, I did a show with Jay. Jay Jopling. Yeah, with James Stone's book. No, this is the other one. Finnegan's Wake. Finnegan's Wake. Yes, I remember you did that show. I did a work. Yeah. Finnegan's Wake. So there I needed a lot of my arsenal. I call it arsenal material. And I put it in a certain way. And then it helped a lot to do something. You know, it's really courageous to do something about Finnegan's make. And that was another, obviously, another text that inspired you, that book. Yeah, yeah, yeah. A favorite book of yours. Because it's so nonsense, you know. He decomposes all words, you know, from different countries.
36:26And it's like I described it before. He decomposes the words. He makes another... All of a sudden, another sense comes out. And he's really... He makes fun, you know? He makes fun of the words. And recomposes, in fact. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. You recently moved studios from your complex in Bajac, in the south of France, to a new one on the outskirts of Paris. That must have been a huge undertaking to have moved so much of your work across the country. You mean from Bajac, from the south to there? To where you are now, on the outskirts of Paris. Yeah, but they are transport organizations, You know, I don't carry it myself.
37:02Sure, I know, but how many lorries did it need? Oh, it was a lot. I don't know the number of the lorries, but there was some. But this complex in the south of France, in Bajac, that still remains. It's now a foundation. It's now a foundation that the public can visit. I cannot change anymore anything there. It stays there for the future. And I think there are 75 or 80 buildings. They're connected with streets. there are tunnels underneath, two kilometers of tunnels. The sort of underground complexes in caverns that you've got. Yeah, I did some tunnels. And also towers, these towers which you are renowned for as well, which stand around the complex, really high concrete towers, which could suggest medieval towers in an Italian town or maybe watchtowers.
37:49There's a lot to find and greenhouses where the women of antiquity are in. There's a lot of stuff. People come now. they can ask a ticket. You book a ticket, book a visit. Yeah, yeah, and at the end of January it's all sold, my secretary said. What is your hope for the future of that complex of those buildings? I hope that people see it and get something out of it. You can see a little bit all what I did. I mean, it's very serious your work, isn't it? You are working on a huge scale and there's a great sense of complexity to so much of the work. Yeah, yeah. But I'm just wondering about your personality and the person that is sitting opposite me now.
38:34You are very playful. You have a very kind of mischievous attitude. No, no, I think as an artist you should not forget that you are a child. It's very important. Well, it's very striking the way you were talking about your childhood and growing up in the rubble. It all goes back to those earliest memories then. Yeah, yeah, yeah. And the sense of possibly of freedom that you had then? Yes. You know, freedom when you are three years old or four years old, what means freedom, you know? It's, you have not the concept of freedom, you know, because you don't know the things from them you can be free.
39:15You know what I mean? It's not so easy. Sure, but that's what I mean, because as a three-year-old growing up in post-war Germany, you have no conception of what the country had been through. So therefore your mind is free from. Yeah, yeah, sure, sure, sure. It's free from, but I think deep in you, you have some memory that you cannot verbalize, but there must be something, you know, because I nearly died, you know, after the birth. My mother didn't give food and they gave me cow milk and this is oh i see she couldn't breastfeed you no she couldn't breastfeed and there was only cow milk and i couldn't digest this so i nearly died well you nearly died twice because a bomb landed on your house on the night you were born and then and perhaps you have something of this in your memory without formulated it's interesting you've touched your again your gut again several times so it's almost like a gut instinct that you're describing i think so yeah And do you think that a lot of your work is, even though there are these references to literature and to history and the German experience, do you think so much of it is an instinctive process, your work?
40:26Yeah. Instinct is a difficult work because animals have instinct. But I would say gut, gut, gut brain. What drives you on creatively, Anselm? What keeps you going as an artist? Oh, all around me. All around me, you know. What would I see? What I feel? And also other artworks, sure. But you have had so many exhibitions. You've created thousands of artworks, many of them monumental, as we say. Is there a need to keep making, to keep making new works? I work now more than ever. You're 80 now. And I'm very sad to be here, not in my studio. I'm keeping you away from your work. Yeah, yeah. How often are you there in your studio?
41:15Is it every day? Sure, what do you think? I live there. Yeah, well, I can imagine. No, it's a big complex, you know. There's my studio, there's this studio, there's this, and then there's my bibliotech and all this. It's all one thing, you know. So is it genuinely frustrating when you're not there working and creating? You know, I don't like to leave. But when I'm somewhere, I was just in Milan, I like it too, because Italians are so wonderful, you know. And I have a big project now in the Palazzo Real in Milano. You are regarded as a very serious artist. You are a big name in the art world. What do you do?
41:52But they think I'm serious. I'm not serious. I like to joke, you know. I've noticed. What do you do to relax away from the studio? Oh, the studio is relaxing. Is it? Not the travelling. It's not relaxing. The studio is relaxing. Anselm Kiefer, I'm going to let you get back to your studio as soon as you can, but it's been an absolute pleasure. Thank you so much for sharing your cultural life with us. Thank you for your questions.
42:29Well, I really hope you enjoyed that conversation with the artist Anselm Kiefer. That was the last episode in the current series of This Cultural Life, in which we've had some great guests from so many art forms, including the novelist Maggie O 'Farrell, painter Jenny Saville, actors Simon Russell Beale and Gillian Anderson, the composers Steve Reich and Alan Menken, and Pete Townsend of The Who. You can hear every episode and all the previous series on BBC Sounds or wherever you get your podcasts internationally. And please do subscribe to This Cultural Life so you don't miss an episode. We'll be back with Series 12 at the end of August.
43:05So from me, John Wilson, and Series producer Edwina Pittman, Thank you very much indeed for listening to This Cultural Life.
43:19I'm David Runciman, and from BBC Radio 4, this is Postwar. From the cradle to the grave, they said. 80 years on, we're telling the story of the 1945 election and the creation of postwar Britain. There must be a revolution in our way of living. This is the Britain that many of us grew up in and which still shapes an idea of who we think we are. Even Winston Churchill's throne. All right, he may have won the war, but he is going to win the peace. Post-war with me, David Runciman. Listen on BBC Sounds. Can we have the Britain we desire?
From the publisher
Anselm Kiefer is one of the world’s greatest living artists. Born in Germany at the end of the Second World War, much of his work in paintings, sculptures and vast installation pieces, has addressed his country’s history and culture, asking difficult questions about the legacy of fascism and conflict. His paintings, thickly layered and sometimes embellished with straw or molten lead, often depict dark rutted fields or dense forests. Kiefer is renowned for the size of his work, and for his industrial-scale studio complexes in France, where he has lived for over thirty years. Kiefer's works are included in numerous public collections including the Museum of Modern Art and the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, New York, Tate Modern, the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art and the National Gallery of Australia. His most recent show at the Royal Academy in London has paired his works with those of one his artistic heroes for an exhibition called Kiefer/Van Gogh.
Producer: Edwina Pitman



