Makeshift Monsters: Christian Eisenberger's Pareidolia at MARTINETZ
Christian (Gen X, Austrian) balances unhinged randomness with the consistency of recurring motives.
You know when multiple characters in a cartoon get into a fight and it’s just drawn like one indistinguishable mess? This is what one silvery piece looks like here. Smaller and larger flat figures are interlocked so tightly that I can’t tell what belongs together and what doesn’t. Each cardboard piece got cast in aluminum, quite a material upgrade.
Christian cut these figures into some recognizable shapes, there’s something humanoid, Mickey Mouse ears, and monstrous fangs. Can’t decide if one piece is a Balaclava or a sheet mask. Nearby, a comically enlarged knuckleduster leans against the wall. Mhm, maybe it really is a Balaclava. This whole thing must look spooky af at night like a shadow theater. But if you look closer, you’ll see those monsters under your bed are taking a break from their scaring duties and turning broomsticks and mops into makeshift fishing rods.
Christian finds faces everywhere, playing with pareidolia. What’s pareidolia? It’s when you believe to see faces in random things. A smiley face on a pancake or clouds, for example. It’s actually a survival mechanism: Your brain would make you see a creature in a moving bush and run, just in case it’s a tiger or something.
Now that pareidolia doesn’t have to protect you from tigers or whatever, it’s a fun feature you can get creative with, which is what Christian does. Whatever he finds, be it in his studio, out on the street, or even while doing the last touch-ups as the first guests come in for the opening, Christian will put it to use. Rolled-up cables morph into faces as you walk past them. Sticks and leaves from a forest walk turn into a tiny mutant creature. More dried butterbur leaves dispersed in a corner look like countless smiling masks of some silly camouflage uniform. My bro and homie Wikipedia just informed me that they also call ‘em leaves “Devil’s hat”.
Beyond the aluminum brass knuckles (which I want so bad for real), I was particularly fond of a compact print edition featuring the artist lying on his studio floor like a corpse at a crime scene. He even stuck numbered cards to objects the detectives might use as evidence. I swear Christian is so The Naked Gun (1988) coded.
Just like his objects, his painted motives shapeshift into several beings simultaneously. He portrays ghosts (I needed five attempts here to spell “ghost” right because my brain insisted on “goths” and “goats”) through elusive brushwork. In the two light turquoise paintings, paint drips down and horizontally, eyes are just a couple of pasty swirls, and the weighty folds of dried paint suggest sagging skin. The dark squirts and discolored residue on top make it kinda look like moldy cake frosting.
In another painting series, Christian amplifies the contrast between black and white. These inflated heads could be skulls, aliens, or even early Mickey Mouse sketches. He keeps the technique blurry, not disclosing what exactly he’s smashing on there. Judging by the intricate swirly cracks and dissolution, it’s more than simply acrylic.
It’s hard to pin Christian down on a technique. Here he’s collecting real animal bones from the woods and arranging them to spell ECHO on a mirror (I’m not so sure if I’m convinced of that piece, though), there he’s marbling paint drops onto canvas confusingly close to Valentino rock studs. Here he paints thick white outlines reminding me of a preparatory grid system for church mosaics, there he constructs a shepherd’s staff made of egg shells. How is he so meticulous and unhinged at once?
Christian Eisenberger: MASSE UND MACHT JÄGER UND SAMMLER (fällt das Feld dann fehlt das t) 9975 - 16932 - 41852, through February 1, 2025, at MARTINETZ.
MARTINETZ
Moltkestrasse 81
50674 Cologne
Website
Instagram: @petramartinetz @eisenbergerchristian
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Jennifer
The Gen Z Art Critic