Raphaela Vogel — In festen Händen

The lions, a symbol of power and masculinity, open their mouths as if in a piercing cry of pain. They each press powerfully down on a snake’s body with their paws, the serpents stretching their heads out. These are their last stirrings before being mortally clawed by the feline predators. Raphaela Vogel dangles two copies of this monumental sculpture from the ceiling, attaching the weighty bronzes with chains and straps. The colossi hang upside down as if falling, a grotesquely inverted trapeze act. “These strongest creatures in the animal kingdom are also present in front of the Berlin district court,” says Vogel. The two bronze sculptures were probably cast in 19th century Italy. Black spheres hang from their noses, which are, in fact, Audiorama loudspeakers manufactured by Grundig in the 1970s. The voice of Raphaela Vogel emerges from them, singing a song by pop singer Milva; oppressive, gloomy, and lost.

Fears, reflections, and bizarre architectural decoration are all amongst Raphaela Vogel’s recurring creative tools, as is the music that accompanies her installations. Always sweet, wistful melodies, they are played on the accordion or piano, contrasting with weighty structures, kaleidoscopic videos, and massive sculptures.