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Neuformulierung des Titels und Übersetzung ins Deutsche: David Altmejd über seine Tour-de-Force surrealistische Schlange

David Altmejd embarked on creating his latest sculpture, The Serpent (2025), with a combination of Maximalism and engineering skills, allowing the process to unfold organically without extensive planning. This approach of discovering the meaning and form of his work as he progressed, guided by his materials, is a common practice among many artists. The final sculpture, currently exhibited at White Cube in New York until April 19, showcases Altmejd’s playful and exploratory creative process. Despite working intuitively, the Los Angeles-based Canadian artist reflects thoughtfully on his work, as demonstrated in the following interview.

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The essence of my sculptures lies in the process of creation. I intentionally leave seams and traces of my hand untouched, intrigued by how an object can retain the memory of its making.

For some time now, the image of a snake has been subtly emerging in my work. Working intuitively, I truly believe that the snake’s presence in my creations unfolds naturally. Initially hesitant to explore such a symbol, I eventually felt prepared to confront it, perhaps due to my personal circumstances.

I chose to construct a snake composed of multiple heads without a predefined vision of its final appearance or size. Drawing inspiration from my experience of crafting heads in previous works, the process felt akin to threading pearls onto a necklace one by one.

Anticipating the chaotic and unpredictable nature of The Serpent, I decided to create a sculpture named Snake Charmer (2025) as a counterbalance. This calming presence in the studio, featuring multiple busts of a figure playing the flute, provided a contrast to the emerging chaos.

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As I delved into The Serpent’s creation, I initially envisioned identical heads forming the sculpture. However, the limitations of the casting process prompted me to allow each head to exhibit its unique character. Thus, I embraced the diversity of the heads, each a cast of my own head with subtle alterations to symbolize distinct life moments.

While some may view The Serpent as a self-portrait, I contemplate the definition of a self-portrait. Every sculpture I produce begins with a cast of my head for practical purposes, rather than a deliberate representation of myself.

Reflecting on the shaping of my sculptures, I recognize a desire inherent in the materials, guiding their form. Drawing on Carl Jung’s concept of the unconscious, I speculate that an unseen energy within the material’s unconscious awaits my assistance in manifestation.

Although my work has been likened to Surrealism, I initially viewed this comparison as superficial. However, I now acknowledge the shared practice of allowing the unconscious to materialize, akin to the Surrealist approach.

The joy of creating lies in the unpredictable journey, embracing chaos, and letting the material dictate the outcome. I revel in the uncertainty, comfortable in the midst of chaos.

The exhibition commenced with sculptures of musicians playing swans as instruments, leading to the realization that I, as a sculptor, compose music and choreograph the material’s dance. I aim to maintain a sense of spontaneity without imposing a strict choreography.

In a corner of The Serpent’s plinth, a rabbit peeks out of a hole, a motif I have incorporated in my work for several years. Initially drawn to rabbits due to the limited space for drawings on human busts, I have continued to explore this theme in my sculptures.

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Also dachte ich: Wenn ich große Hasenohren mache, könnte ich sie als Zeichenfläche verwenden.

Danach wurde mir klar, dass meine Verbindung zum Hasen viel tiefer geht und bis in meine Kindheit zurückreicht. Bald interessierte ich mich wirklich für den Hasen als Trickster – nicht unbedingt als Figur, die Streiche spielt, sondern als eine Art Geist, der sowohl in der Welt sein kann als auch durch ein Loch unterirdisch geht und dunkle Kanäle unter der Erde navigiert. In Alice im Wunderland ist es der Weiße Hase, der Alice in ihr eigenes Unterbewusstsein führt, wo sie die Königin und all diese Charaktere trifft. Für mich als Künstler ist das das wichtigste Werkzeug, das ich habe: die Fähigkeit, unter die Oberfläche zu graben und den dunkleren Raum des Unterbewusstseins zu erreichen – und dann wieder an die Oberfläche zu kommen.

– Erzählt von Emily Watlington