With the “Rendez-vous Bundesplatz,” the limits of artistic freedom became severely restricted – at least aesthetically. Argument.
There are days of joy for fans of over-supported major events in public spaces: until the end of November, the Federal Palace will once again be exposed to confusing images. Whereas in previous years popular children’s themes such as 500 Years of the Reformation were dealt with, now mystical paths are taken.
The Federal Palace as a fantasy land: what sounds like an excerpt from a mass statement is actually much worse. The Parliament House is transformed into an art display surface with the aesthetic appeal of a portrait of Rolf Knie above a white leather sofa.
It is also recommended to look further from a health perspective. The light show has been the best guarantee for the worst dizzy spells since the launch of the Windows 95 screensaver.
What is presented is initially limited to images of a forest scattered for a hopelessly long period. This is what it must feel like to be invited to a slide show evening by a couple you casually know, where all the trees you saw from your last trip to Scandinavia are presented. The Bundesplatz has never felt so desperate.
Then things start moving. All kinds of animals creep through the picture. It seems that they were trying to imitate Disney characters, but the 180,000 francs that the city of Bern pumped into the show was not enough to secure the corresponding rights.
In order to legally protect themselves, all life forms were removed from the animals. All the animals living in the forest have a pitiful appearance, as if they had been kept at the Rhine’s knee for several years for medical experiments.
This is another example of how animal art does not work in public spaces in Bern. We remember: In 2017, “Bernartinians” swept the streets of Bern – sculptural monsters that looked as if Andy Warhol had acquired his artistic skills in the advertising department of a dog food company.
Return to the facade of the Federal Palace. Meanwhile, people were also spotted. But even with them, the technical implementation is very confusing.
The numbers are so crudely designed that one initially suspects unscrupulous product placement. Because suddenly Knurli, the chief of Armat, appears in the branches. But a false alarm. When zoomed in closer, the figure appears to be Little Red Riding Hood.
As with animals, people also seem somewhat dissatisfied with their appearance on the Federal Palace. The facial expressions are as dead as those of minor characters in gloomy Soviet children’s books. For young viewers especially, this concentration of human desolation forms a solid foundation on which to build all sorts of fears of commitment, which must be addressed 20 years later at great cost.
The performance ends after 30 minutes. It looks like a collective dream for a fairly talented graphics class.