| Sibylle Fendt’s photo series, “Uneins,” portrays the living spaces and the faces of so-called “pathological hoarders;” pack-rats who cannot distinguish the useful from the useless, whose homes have become overrun with so much junk that they cannot begin to categorize it. Psychologically, the outer chaos of this condition indicates an inner trauma that remains concealed, covered by newspapers, pieces of clothing and household items. |  |
Framed Chaos at C/O Berlin – Anna Altman
“Trauma is something that hits us with such violence and speed that it creates a split in our perception without leaving an image behind.”
Sibylle Fendt’s photo series, “Uneins,” portrays the living spaces and the faces of so-called “pathological hoarders;” pack-rats who cannot distinguish the useful from the useless, whose homes have become overrun with so much junk that they cannot begin to categorize it. Psychologically, the outer chaos of this condition indicates an inner trauma that remains concealed, covered by newspapers, pieces of clothing and household items. So if the trauma that causes such behavior—that rends each of Fendt’s subjects in two, leaving them too paralyzed even to manage their belongings—then what value do the images left behind have? How do these images correspond to the images missing from the subjects’ own psyches? What, if anything, do they show us?
Despite the viewer’s privileged entrance into the private space of each subject—Fendt shows us their homes, their belongings, and their aggressive or often averted gazes—these people remain cut off from the viewer and indeed from their environments. The eerie stillness of the photographs, which capture such chaos and unrest, both physical and mental, creates a disparity that betrays photography’s dishonesty. The camera does not—no, cannot—organize this space, despite the neat wooden squares gently set around the explosions of objects it captures.
But the straightforward perspective of Fendt’s photographs tells us that the artist knows her photographs lack any explanation. They are only witnesses to the existence of these people, to their grubby and meaningless belongings, to the evident pain and struggle of one finally showing her face. Fendt’s deliberate choice to leave her photographs unmarked and the names of her subjects unknown protects the fragility of these people and their spaces, and proves Fendt to be a humble and respectful intruder.
And so the viewer is allowed into, indeed sucked into, each vortex of filth and disorder. We will never know under what circumstances one elderly woman stacked dozens of board games on a shelf, only to leave the rest of her belongings in a heap that overtook her home. But because of Fendt’s even-handed and unassuming approach, the pain that such a scene documents is neither exploited nor judged but observed and even empathized with.
That such equanimity is on display as part of C/O’s Talents series—an initiative that hopes to give voice to young artists that have finished their training but not yet started their careers—speaks highly of Fendt’s promise. Her audience can only hope that her clear and humble eye will gaze and record.
Art theorist Anne Pascale wrote an essay to accompany the exhibition “Uneins.”
