Making art confronts me with more questions than answers. I am much too entangled and I lack analytical distance. I know too much. But I also know too little. If my work is any good, I don’t understand it myself. At least not right away. The work I make tends to overrun, and sometimes even undermine, my intentions. Understanding how my work functions in the world is a process in which I learn from others and their reactions. I like lists, and I like alphabets. So I set out to make an alphabetical index of terms related to my work: A for Abstract, B for Bold, C is Creative, no, Critical, E stands for Eccentric or Emotional, F for Feeling, no that should be Feminist, G is Gay, yes, H for Humorous, I for Intimate, no better Intense, and the list goes on, O for Obsessive, P is Perverse, Q Queer, then Realist, Sincere, Tough, Utopian, Visceral. | ![]() |
Ulrike Müller is a Vienna-born artist currently living in New York City.
Ulrike Mueller, Mock Rock, 2004. C-Print still from Super8-Film, 5 x 7 inches. Courtesy of the artist.
Making art confronts me with more questions than answers. I am much too entangled and I lack analytical distance. I know too much. But I also know too little. If my work is any good, I don’t understand it myself. At least not right away. The work I make tends to overrun, and sometimes even undermine, my intentions. Understanding how my work functions in the world is a process in which I learn from others and their reactions.
I like lists, and I like alphabets. So I set out to make an alphabetical index of terms related to my work: A for Abstract, B for Bold, C is Creative, no, Critical, E stands for Eccentric or Emotional, F for Feeling, no that should be Feminist, G is Gay, yes, H for Humorous, I for Intimate, no better Intense, and the list goes on, O for Obsessive, P is Perverse, Q Queer, then Realist, Sincere, Tough, Utopian, Visceral. But wait. I listed Realist for R and Utopian for U and—as far as terms go—that’s a clear contradiction. Contradictions are an exciting territory. I encounter them often in my work. I would have better started my alphabet with A for Ambivalent. Ambivalence is where a lot of my work comes from. It is a very passionate place: I insist on not having to pick one over the other, I want both, and more, and that other thing also.
I want my work to be feminist and critical, geared toward social change. But we live in a radically different world now than 15 years ago. Conceptual methods have been formative for me, but I also feel the need for a different aesthetic, one that is not exclusively rational. Recently a critic wrote that my drawings are “both hot and cold.” That was a beautiful thing to read, because it poignantly describes the tension between analytical distance and passionate involvement. I’m interested in messier messages, in things that are embarrassing, or cannot be put into words. I believe that our feelings of helplessness, loneliness, and despair are part of a larger political landscape. I know that art can play a role in changing the world by offering situations in which to gather around objects and to share experiences. My work jumps at this possibility and seeks to make intimate contact with its viewers.