Martin Kippenberger

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Kippenberger’s key works, for me, are a series of assembled sculptures called “Peters,” which he produced in the late nineteen-eighties. In German, Peter means “guy,” and, when used as a suffix, may denote a role or an attribute (as we say “cable guy”). Kippenberger adopted it as shorthand for any stylistic tic by which artists identify or brand—and, thereby, caricature—themselves. (“Peter-ness” might be interpreted as “ness-ness.”) A dizzying mishmash of techniques and vaguely familiar styles—in wood and steel, furniture and mirrors, photographs and printed signs—the Peters express a spirit of swing-barrelled derision, hinting that every conceivable artistic attitude is inescapably vain and selfdefeating. For the most notorious of the pieces, Kippenberger built a coffee table, using an abstract painting by Richter, which he had bought, for the top. (The piece sold at what amounted to a steep discount.) Other Peters immortalize banana peels in cast resin, present an Aldo Rossi chair with holes drilled in it, and entitle a gawkily carpentered wooden enclosure “Playpen for Brochures.” Most of the subjects are unclear, but you may still feel their pain, as the artist gores them.

Taking a Toll, A Martin Kippenberger retrospective by Peter Schjeldahl, March 1, 2009, NewYorker.

Tate.