Silly aging: In the Kreuzberg Gallery Zero, paintings by the late Dee Dee Ramone are on display. This can notoriously go terribly wrong when musicians start painting. Just think, or perhaps better not to, of Udo Lindenberg. Dee Dee Ramone, on the other hand, who passed away in 2002 from a chemical cocktail, had already sought other forms of expression in the mid-90s beyond the "Onetwothreefour!" stage hopping. And he found them triumphantly: Dee Dee was the publisher of a punk fanzine, wrote two books, and painted. Over ten of his paintings (there aren't actually many more) can now be seen at the Kreuzberg Gallery Zero.
What does someone who co-created punk and ensured it doesn't die paint? Large-format fabric paintings with charming, comic-like motifs. On a bright pink background, "The Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church" stands out, complete with a stylish new and old broken tower in sunny yellow and black; like the backdrop to a trash comic, the legendary New York Chelsea Hotel is also recognizable by its neon sign. He has also pinned up a Warhol soup can, and in "Self Portrait 2002," he paints himself on a radiant yellow background as a grinning face with scorpions on his black torso, a brown hair helmet, and - of course - jeans.
It's a family-friendly affair. Because the challengingly naive appeal of the works, their clever bravado plays with the elements that punk and its aesthetics have always played with: graffiti, cartoons, and comic strips.
A few works were created together with Paul Kostabi: square, consisting of stick figures, faces, and text, scribbled all the way to the corners. Full of a desire for silliness. As if a grown man cheerfully looks back on his punk past, carelessly mixing symbols, memories, and effects, and throwing it all onto a canvas with a "What the hell" attitude.
The third artist whose works the enterprising gallery owners are exhibiting is also a newcomer with a punk band past: Joseph B. Raimond. He paints "Tony Blair's Soul," which is certainly not pure, stick figures in mixed media, sextuplets (which look like six fried eggs), and "Lucy in the sky with potatoes," a smiling, red-haired ghost weighing a giant potato.
One can't have anything against that, no matter how hard one tries. The gallery is to be wished that the Turkish neighborhood sees it similarly this time: The last exhibition, provocative naked and semi-naked photos of girls and boys by Diana Scheunemann, stirred the emotions of the residents so much that they, along with screaming children, stormed against the alleged pig pictures. The gallery owners were threatened until they covered the windows - scandalous taste censorship under the cheap pretext of child protection. With Dee Dee Ramone, the alleged moral guardians from the neighborhood can superficially find nothing to complain about. After all, the old drug punk serves excellently as a moral role model.
Until November 29, Mon.-Fri. 12-6 PM, Sat. 12-8 PM, Gallery Zero, Köpenicker Str. 4 - Berlin
What does someone who co-created punk and ensured it doesn't die paint? Large-format fabric paintings with charming, comic-like motifs. On a bright pink background, "The Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church" stands out, complete with a stylish new and old broken tower in sunny yellow and black; like the backdrop to a trash comic, the legendary New York Chelsea Hotel is also recognizable by its neon sign. He has also pinned up a Warhol soup can, and in "Self Portrait 2002," he paints himself on a radiant yellow background as a grinning face with scorpions on his black torso, a brown hair helmet, and - of course - jeans.
It's a family-friendly affair. Because the challengingly naive appeal of the works, their clever bravado plays with the elements that punk and its aesthetics have always played with: graffiti, cartoons, and comic strips.
A few works were created together with Paul Kostabi: square, consisting of stick figures, faces, and text, scribbled all the way to the corners. Full of a desire for silliness. As if a grown man cheerfully looks back on his punk past, carelessly mixing symbols, memories, and effects, and throwing it all onto a canvas with a "What the hell" attitude.
The third artist whose works the enterprising gallery owners are exhibiting is also a newcomer with a punk band past: Joseph B. Raimond. He paints "Tony Blair's Soul," which is certainly not pure, stick figures in mixed media, sextuplets (which look like six fried eggs), and "Lucy in the sky with potatoes," a smiling, red-haired ghost weighing a giant potato.
One can't have anything against that, no matter how hard one tries. The gallery is to be wished that the Turkish neighborhood sees it similarly this time: The last exhibition, provocative naked and semi-naked photos of girls and boys by Diana Scheunemann, stirred the emotions of the residents so much that they, along with screaming children, stormed against the alleged pig pictures. The gallery owners were threatened until they covered the windows - scandalous taste censorship under the cheap pretext of child protection. With Dee Dee Ramone, the alleged moral guardians from the neighborhood can superficially find nothing to complain about. After all, the old drug punk serves excellently as a moral role model.
Until November 29, Mon.-Fri. 12-6 PM, Sat. 12-8 PM, Gallery Zero, Köpenicker Str. 4 - Berlin
