Mother tongue

When I once tried (and failed) to recreate in clay the salt stone licked into a complex shape by a cow, I understood something: It's important that the soft craters of the stone were formed over weeks by a tongue. And if I want to perceive this structure as a poetic one, it needs the cow's tongue, the field and time.

Or: How can a work of art reflect the problematic pressure of its own creation? And how can a work be created in and through a space and then become a space itself?

Christine Moldrickx (*1984 in Münster) lives in Düsseldorf and Amsterdam. She studied at the Kunstakademie Düsseldorf and the Städelschule in Frankfurt am Main. From 2015 to 2016 she was a scholarship holder at the Rijksakademie van beeldende kunsten, Amsterdam.

Solo and group exhibitions (selection): 2024 Kunsthal 44Møen, Askeby (DK); Kunstmuseum Goch; Museum Schloss Moyland; 2023 Neues Museum Nürnberg; 2022 Galerie Martin van Zomeren, Amsterdam; Edition Block, Berlin; 2021 P/////AKT, Amsterdam (NL); 2020 GAK, Bremen; 2018 Three shadow Art Center, Xiamen (CHN); 2017 Skulpturenmuseum Glaskasten Marl; 2016 Djupivogur (IS); Nassauischer Kunstverein, Wiesbaden; Kunsthalle Düsseldorf; 2015 BON-GAH, Tehran (IR); 2013 Artothek, Cologne.