"Born and raised in southern Germany in 1945 during the final days of the collapse of the Third Reich, Anselm Kiefer experienced divided postwar Germany firsthand. A law student, he switched to art in 1965 and held his first solo exhibit in 1970. His works often incorporate materials like straw, ash, clay, lead, dirt and shellac. The poems of Paul Celan have played a role in shaping Kiefer’s themes of German history and the horror of the Holocaust, as have the theological concepts of Kabbalah"
Anselm Kiefer, 'Rorate coeli desuper et nubes pluant iustum' (Drop down dew, ye heavens, from above, and let the clouds rain the Just One), 2006. Oil, acrylic, emulsion and shellac on canvas
Corona - A poem by Paul Celan
Autumn eats its leaf out of my hand: we are friends.
From the nuts we shell time and we teach it to walk:
then time returns to the shell.
In the mirror it's Sunday,
in dream there is room for sleeping,
our mouths speak the truth.
My eye moves down to the sex of my loved one:
we look at each other,
we exchange dark words,
we love each other like poppy and recollection,
we sleep like wine in the conches,
like the sea in the moon's blood ray.
We stand by the window embracing, and people
look up from the street:
it is time they knew!
It is time the stone made an effort to flower,
time unrest had a beating heart.
It is time it were time.
It is time.
Anselm Kiefer. 'Aperiatur Terra et Germinet Salvatorem' (Let the earth open and bring forth a Saviour) 2005-06. Oil, acrylic, emulsion and shellac on canvas 110" x 299" (Images ripped from here)
Corona - A poem by Paul Celan
Autumn eats its leaf out of my hand: we are friends.
From the nuts we shell time and we teach it to walk:
then time returns to the shell.
In the mirror it's Sunday,
in dream there is room for sleeping,
our mouths speak the truth.
My eye moves down to the sex of my loved one:
we look at each other,
we exchange dark words,
we love each other like poppy and recollection,
we sleep like wine in the conches,
like the sea in the moon's blood ray.
We stand by the window embracing, and people
look up from the street:
it is time they knew!
It is time the stone made an effort to flower,
time unrest had a beating heart.
It is time it were time.
It is time.
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