‘When she was young, Alexandra Bircken was an avid reader of the popular English magazines “i-D” and “The Face,” which cover fashion, music and youth culture. Expressing individuality and self-determination through fashion plays a very special role in these magazines.

‘Alexandra Bircken thinks a lot about the skin as a shell. For example, she is interested in how skins separate us from other things in the world, or how the surfaces of materials surrounding us can look, how vulnerable they are, or how they provide protection.

‘Sometimes she also focuses her gaze deliberately on the inside of bodies and objects. For example, she cuts open motorbikes or other machines with great precision, so that suddenly not only the exterior but also the interior of the object is visible.

‘After almost a decade as a designer, Alexandra Bircken decided to leave the fashion world. In 2003 she rented her small studio “Alex” in Cologne. But soon she started creating her first sculptures—Alexandra now regarded herself as an artist.

‘In machines and architecture Alexandra Bircken observes similar structures as in a body, e.g. a “skeleton” or “organs.” With her installations, she sometimes consciously intervenes in the existing architecture and creates works specifically for a particular space or place.’ — Museum Brandhorst

 

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Further

Alexandra Bircken Site
Alexandra Bircken @ instagram
AB @ Herald St.
AB @ Contemporary Art Library
AB @ Maureen Paley
Buy ‘A-Z’, a Alexandra Bircken catalog
Alexandra Bircken on fashion, club culture and the fragility of flesh
Alexandra Bircken’s work threatens to spill messily from its frames
She just really likes handicraft.
The artist who makes work out of old Audi parts – and her own placenta
PRESENTATION: Alexandra Bircken A-Z
Artist of the week: Alexandra Bircken

 

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Extras


Alexandra Bircken: ESKALATION (English)


Alexandra Bircken (German)

 

________
Interview
from Art Viewer

 

Alexandra Bircken: My interest in the body and corporeality has personal roots: as a child, I underwent several intestinal surgeries and spent a lot of time alone in the hospital. This early, existential confrontation with my own body left a lasting impression. I began to perceive the body not only as my own but also as something abstract—an object that can be observed and examined. Beyond this biographical experience, I am interested in the body as a universal element: something that connects us all, since every human lives in and with a body, however diverse those bodies may be. Moreover, bodies are not only containers of inner life but also alter egos. And it is precisely this moment of otherness that is crucial in art. Sculpture always means to me: something stands opposite you; you relate to it. What does it do to you? What function does it have in the space or in relation to other objects, or within itself?

Paul Bernard/Selma Meuli: Beyond the body, skin in particular is a recurring theme in your work.

AB: Skin is the surface we see when we meet and observe each other. At the same time, it is the largest organ of the human body and reveals a great deal about the body’s condition. Skin is also something we clothe or cover and adorn. In this sense, it stands for representation as well as protection, vulnerability, and pain—all aspects I address in my artistic work.

PB/SM: Your work also shows a particular interest in machines, revea-ling their anthropomorphic character in certain places. How do you perceive this strange analogy between the body and the machine, the organic and the mechanical?

AB: Inside machines and engines, complex bundles of cables, known in German as «Kabelbäume,» (eng. cable harnesses) run through them. These highly branched structures resemble the human nervous or vascular system, both formally and functionally. Just as a network of fine veins extends from the heart through the human body, in a car, the battery serves as the central organ supplying power to electrical components—ignition, navigation system, radio, heating and cigarette lighter—through the cable harnesses. This transfer of organic principles to technical systems fascinates me and is a central motif in my work. The wall piece Efeu Elektro (2023) expresses this most clearly: the work consists of a rhizomatically grown cable harness that takes the form of an organic-technical sculpture.

PB/SM: This way of relating structures or systems that may seem foreign to each other appears to be a fundamental gesture in your artistic methodology. It is also present in your weaving works.

AB: In the works Picasso (2025) and Automatik (2024), both again made from car cables, I continue the approach of transferring systems—this time starting from the archaic technique of weaving. It’s less about analogies between body and machine and more about the encounter of different technical, cultural, and gender-specific regimes. Weaving is one of humanity’s oldest cultural techniques. In her «Carrier Bag Theory of Fiction» (1986), the American author Ursula K. Le Guin describes that the first human technology was not the weapon but a container: a bag, basket, or net used to gather food or catch fish. I found it particularly exciting to transfer a traditionally male-associated material—car cables, a symbol of an industrial, technicized world—into a textile technique that is historically female-dominated and much older. Despite the rapid technological progress that shapes our present, there are things that have hardly changed over millennia. Weaving is one of them— as is the technique of bronze casting, which I also use in several works in the exhibition, such as Trophy (2013), Chérie (2022) and Husky (2024).

PB/SM: The display in the corridor of the Parkett, showing snapshots, reference images, and material samples, seems like an intimate insight into your working process. Can you explain what is shown here?

AB: The showcases (Vitrine I-V, 2025), presented here for the first time, offer me a playful opportunity to relate collected impressions and materials to each other. The showcases thus form a kind of dynamic echo that reverberates back and forth between ongoing personal research and my works in the space. Similar to my sculptures, some showcases are more conceptually or thematically driven, while others suggest an associative approach—a kind of montage, in the cinematic sense of the word.

PB/SM: The horse is another recurring motif in the exhibition rooms. How do you approach this symbol of power?

AB: Recently, I completed PS (Horsepower) (2024)—a large-scale horse sculpture in public space. The nine-meter-long, painted stainless steel sculpture is placed at a heavily frequented traffic junction in Munich and represents a vertically split toy horse held together only by a hinge. Munich is considered a car city, yet the cityscape is also characterized by numerous equestrian statues—a sculpture genre widespread throughout the Western cultural sphere since antiquity, traditionally symbolizing power, military strength, and progress. With the exception of statues dedicated to the resistance fighter Jeanne d’Arc in some French cities, these representations almost exclusively serve the representation of patriarchal and male-dominated historical narratives.

Against this backdrop, PS (Horsepower), as well as the derived sculpture Gebrochenes Pferd (Broken Horse) (2024) featured in the exhibition, can be understood as an attempt to question and literally deconstruct this specific sculptural tradition. The horse, traditionally staged as the bearer of the rider, is rendered dysfunctional: slowed in its movement, stripped of its original dynamism. Only the connecting hinge hints at a potential moment of transformation. The idea of dysfunctionality, or the deliberate braking of established systems, runs through other works as well—pieces that also indirectly reference the motif of the horse, such as Gebrochenes Pferd (Broken Horse) (2023), Paystation (2025), and Ulysses (2025). These sculptures are composed of sawn and re-collaged car engines and motorcycles—machines that have replaced the horse as a means of transport—and thus reflect both a technical and symbolic reversal of historical narratives of progress. Finally, this theme continues in the work I (2025), created specifically for the exhibition: the serially moulded ceramic delineators are also a reference to the limitation of mobility. Positioned in a grid in the Salle Poma, they form points of reference in the space.

PB/SM: You also reference other symbols of authority in your work, such as the so-called «Merkel rhombus,» a gesture characteristic of the former German chancellor. This gesture appears notably in the work Doppelhaushälfte (2021), where you associate it with a dollhouse standing on two legs.

AB: In this figure, for which I combined various found objects—a mannequin leg, a branch, a dollhouse, a ball of yarn, and a hammer—it becomes clear how materials can generate new layers of meaning through their interaction. In Doppelhaushälfte, not only do different materials come together associatively, but also multiple cultural and political references. Angela Merkel’s hands, folded into a diamond shape in front of her stomach—incorporated into the sculpture as a photograph—have long become a recognizable symbol: a gesture of calm, control, and dignity in a political arena still dominated by white men. The German public—and especially the media—nicknamed Merkel «Mutti» (eng. «Mom»)—sometimes affectionately, sometimes ironically, and at times critically. The term alludes to her role as a seemingly maternal, calm, and caring leader, someone who knew how to listen and respond to people’s needs. This image of Merkel enters into a dialogue in the sculpture with a reference to Louise Bourgeois’ Femme Maison (eng. «Woman House»)—a series of drawings and paintings from the 1940s in which naked female bodies merge with houses, their heads concealed by architectural structures. In these iconic works, Bourgeois explores the traditional role of women as keepers of the home, while the outside world (and paid labor) remains gender-coded as male. The woman is enclosed and objectified in her corporeality; her identity vanishes behind architecture. This tension between body and symbol lies at the heart of the exhibition, as the chosen title «SomaSemaSoma» clearly suggests.

PB/SM: Can you tell us more about this title?

AB: The title refers to the ancient Greek words sōma (σῶμα), meaning «body,» and sēma (σῆμα), meaning «sign.» Both terms form the root of the discipline of semiotics, the study of signs. What interests me in this juxtaposition is the difficulty of translating between the body and language. Bodily experiences—sensory impressions, emotions, lived events—can never be fully conveyed through language. Language is an abstract, symbolic system that can only ever capture a fraction of what we experience physically and emotionally. This reduction creates an inevitable gap, a discrepancy between signifier and experience. It is this ambiguity—arising from the translation problem between body and meaning—that I explore in my sculptures. They negotiate the fragility and fragmentation of identity within a field of tension defined by materi-ality, symbolism, and political perceptions of the body.

PB/SM: This relationship between sculpture and language is also reflected in the titles you choose for your individual works. How do you approach that process?

AB: The titles don’t just name the works—they add another layer of meaning and visibility. It’s only through the title that many works can be fully experienced as independent pieces. Titles also allow me to playfully explore the contextualization or re-interpretation of the materials I use. Sometimes I choose humorous titles to cast the work in a different light and wordplays to evoke different meanings—Pinstrike (2021) or Paystation (2025) are typical examples. The title Ulysses (2025), for instance, refers on the one hand to the underlying material—a particular model of motorcycle—and on the other hand to the cultural and symbolic significance of the name. This interplay between reference and shifting meaning is something I find particularly fascinating.

 

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Show

Storm, 2013

 

Gebrochenes Pferd (Broken Horse), 2023
Car engine

 

Gebrochenes Pferd (Broken Horse), 2024
Larch wood, black stain, LED optical fibre, cable, metal

 

My Space, 2022

 

SomaSemaSoma, 2025

 

Blondie, 2010

 

Motorcycle, 2 parts: Part One, 2019

 

T3, 2023
Steel, Motorbike tank

 

Deflated Figures, 2021

 

Musterung, 2023

 

Herald St, 2017
Motorbike suit and nails

 

Trophy, 2016

 

Present Absent, 2014

 

Cherie, 2023

 

The Doctor, 2020

 

Diana, 2022

 

Alexander, 2017
wood, gold leaf, gear stick

 

Warrior, 2020

 

w/ Thomas Brinkmann Twitter, 2011
tape machine, tape, microphone, knitting needle

 

Loplop, 2019

 

Deine Beine, 2019

 

Efeu Elektro, 2023
Cable harness

 

Klein’s Jacket, 2017

 

Deflated Bodies, 2014

 

 

*

p.s. Hey. ** kenley, Hi. Haha, ah, understood. Thanks for the link. I do know Sumac a little and like what I know. No, I haven’t seen ‘Vanderpump Rules’, and I don’t know that actor. I just liked the way the person shook their head, basically. Anyway, I’ll take a peek (at ‘VR’). ** Bill, Thanks. Seems like the SF Cinematheque would show her films if they haven’t. Nice about Steven Brown. ** Steve, Based on some videos I saw in my feed this morning of heavily wrapped people trudging around in the East Village, you guys definitely have gotten some snow by now. The Bow Wow Wow conversation was mostly me laying out my theories about the ways in which they were such a multi-layered project and him confirming and elaborating. Everyone, Mr. Steve Erickson says … ‘My latest “Radio Not Radio” show is out now.This one features Haram, End It, Vein.fm, Che, bleood, Seo, sidepeices, Zayok, Ari Falcao, Meryl, Didi B, Lady Saw, Nina Simone, Beverly Glenn-Copeland & Elizabeth Glenn-Copeland, Frederik Croene, Kris Davis, Cassie Watson Francillo, Julianna Barwick & Mary Lattimore, Hekura, Hildur Guonadottir, Here And Now, 801, Fauna, Dry Cleaning, Geologist, Maria BC, Gaute Granli and Ralph Towner.’ Sounds wild, I’ll be there. ** Dominik, Hi D!!!! Great to see you! I’ve been good. My health is totally A-okay now. The script is inching towards the finish line. Zoom book/film club was good. We ended up mostly talking about the Minneapolis horror, unsurprisingly. Enjoy your break. How are you going to enjoy it ideally? Apart from the ‘House of Leaves’ exploring. I’ve heard about ‘Pillion’, but I haven’t seen it. I guess I’ve been thinking it might be a little too gay with a capital G? What did you think? Love giving you undetectable ChatGBP abilities and a high speed button, G. ** Carsten, No, all the gifs I use on the blog and in my gif fiction work are found. For the book/film club we watched Costa-Gravas’s ‘Z’ and read an excerpt from Knausgård’s new novel. Finances and lack of bookshelf space lead to me skipping the After8 sale, at least so far. We have sunshine, but it’s that kind of whitish, freezing type. Which I like quite a bit, don’t get me wrong, but my heavy coat is staying buttoned. Functioning is becoming like trying to have a conversation at a Black Metal gig. ** _Black_Acrylic, A bit nippy here too. I’m so impressed by how often you eat pizza, you lucky dog. ** Charalampos, Hi. Weekend was good enough. Not in the world, but in my apartment, etc. I have seen that cover of ‘Triptych’, but it’s not the one I own. I own this extremely misleading looking one. Hi from the 8th. ** Bernard Welt, Hi, B! Ah, so you have something in common with a whole bunch of the sex slaves. Everything, and most immediately the Minneapolis thing, is so horrifying I don’t know what to even feel anymore much less say. As always, hoping against hope that it’s a tipping point, for god knows what though. I didn’t know or remember that Gretchen Bender was from DC. Wow. I don’t why wow, but wow. Did you ever go to Therme Vals before it got turned into an unaffordable, jam packed luxury destination. Boy, it used to be amazing. You’re not a freak in my book, but then who possibly would be? The escorts are usually on the big sites, I just have to spend laborious amounts of time finding the very rare ones who write an interesting profile text. I’m embarrassed to say this, but a bunch of posts from bears probably would gross me out. Paris in the fall! Mexico! Have you met up with Mark Doten when you were there (Mexico City)? ** Alice, Paris has a really good zoo. Zoos tend to depress me, but this one is vast and manages to convince you that the animals are okay with their incarceration. So it’s not enough if you write a moment that might incite possible viewers of the film, you have to incite anyone who reads the script? Maybe have a character kick a dog or cat? That’s guaranteed. Hm, I’ll have to think about a suggestion. Hollis Frampton’s book on filmmaking is great in that regard off the top of my head. ** beaujolais, Hey! Nice to meet you. Oh, gosh, that device is definitely intentional, but I wrote those books so long ago, and I would have to look at my notes and graphs to be able to explain whatever system I was using, and I don’t have them with me. I’m sorry. I agree with what you wrote, but the nature of doing this p.s. involves moving along at a fair clip such that I’m not sitting here at my laptop for a big chunk of my day, and I think an answer would necessitate a lot of thought and consequent thinking about how to articulate those thoughts, and I can’t do that right now. I’ll think about it after I’m finished here, for sure. It’s a great and honoring observation. If by chance you’re in Paris, let’s have a coffee. ** Lucas, Hi. My weekend was perfectly acceptable. Interesting about ‘About Ed’. I can see that. What I’m reading right now are two books that haven’t been published yet: a novel by Tracy Lynn Oliver called ‘Magician’ and the new novel by Wolfe Margolies. Both very good. Everyone, Cool new collage by Lucas is viewable here. Very nice! If it weren’t for attractive, seemingly unattainable people and the roiling emotion they inspire, I wouldn’t have written quite a bit of what I’ve written. So there’s that. ** HaRpEr //, I think maybe they were disapproving of your lack of self-confidence? ‘The Ice Tower’, no, not yet. I’ll write it down this time. ‘I think it’s more faithful to my outlook if I don’t force closure, just leave everything where it is.’: wise words, I think. ** Steeqhen, Someone else also pointed him out. I don’t know that show from Adam, for better or worse. Word on that ‘Silent Hill’ is very, very bad. And not fun bad. That makes sense about the job’s effect, yeah. ** Uday, Thank you. If they weren’t called ‘snow angels’, I might even try making one. And it would be ugly, no doubt. Luck with the interview today. What’s it for? ** horatio, Hi. No, I’m completely allergic to using gifs in online conversation. I don’t know how much money one would have to pay me to do that. They’re strictly for the blog and my gif fictions. The Shellac concert was satisfyingly fierce. Um, no, I don’t think I have favorite song by them, no. Strange. Two weeks: I’ll know when to start peeling my eyes. Thank you. ** Right. I saw some art recently by Alexandra Bircken, and I was intrigued by why I was charmed by it, and I ended up thinking about the nature of charm, and then I decided to give her a show in my galerie. See you tomorrow.