Art needs the viewer to concretize itself. Concrete art, too. In this constellation it has the possibility to remain completely with itself and to rely on the persuasive power of the factually visible. But it can also open itself up to the viewer by taking to heart the premises of concretion and yet conjuring up an emphatic illusionism.
In recent years, Wolfram Ullrich has increasingly opened up his artistic work in this direction. The rational effort to achieve formal rigor is just as important to him as the irrational downside of its effect. Ullrich’s most recent reliefs, for instance, initially captivate us with their precise form and colouring. They are polyhedra over trapezoidal surfaces. At the edges their geometric body of brushed steel becomes visible, the front side itself is covered with a monochrome skin of lacquer and acrylic paint: blue, salmon or earthy rust brown.
When one successively moves away from what is actually visible, these reliefs begin to twist involuntarily. Depending on the observer’s point of view, they work their way into or out of the wall, they tilt and become soft, bend over narrow shadow gaps towards the observer and finally say goodbye to weightlessness. The
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Art needs the viewer to concretize itself. Concrete art, too. In this constellation it has the possibility to remain completely with itself and to rely on the persuasive power of the factually visible. But it can also open itself up to the viewer by taking to heart the premises of concretion and yet conjuring up an emphatic illusionism.
In recent years, Wolfram Ullrich has increasingly opened up his artistic work in this direction. The rational effort to achieve formal rigor is just as important to him as the irrational downside of its effect. Ullrich’s most recent reliefs, for instance, initially captivate us with their precise form and colouring. They are polyhedra over trapezoidal surfaces. At the edges their geometric body of brushed steel becomes visible, the front side itself is covered with a monochrome skin of lacquer and acrylic paint: blue, salmon or earthy rust brown.
When one successively moves away from what is actually visible, these reliefs begin to twist involuntarily. Depending on the observer’s point of view, they work their way into or out of the wall, they tilt and become soft, bend over narrow shadow gaps towards the observer and finally say goodbye to weightlessness. The illusionistic pull that these works exert is strong. But the centrifugal force of concrete art stands firm against it. Thanks to this well-calculated antagonism of forces, Wolfram Ullrich succeeds in remaining true to a strong tradition without succumbing to its conventions.
