THE SKIN CLEAN
Underworld and real men:
Opening at Kirsten Roschlaub's
BY DANIEL HAAS
The number of men with broken noses this evening is record-breaking. Their body measurements also deviate from the norm of the art opening audience.
Galerie Roschlaub presents portraits of those boxers whom Moritz Klatten, coach and manager, trains in his gym. Oiled muscles, energetic looks, the aesthetics of the pictures are somewhere between Mern's Health and Riefenstahl.
The audience, too, displayed a convincing mix of bourgeois composure and muscular dominance. Will the ladies soon be speaking an octave lower, given the testosterone levels in the air? One checks to see if one's hair growth has increased.
The hosts are splendid. Gallery owner Kirsten Roschlaub, in black Marlene Dietrich trousers and a turquoise top: a German Kim Basinger, minus the migraine stare. And Moritz Klatten always ducks his head out of politeness when answering questions. He doesn't want to look down on his interlocutor, which is impossible at 2.04 meters tall. Together with his girlfriend (1.90 meters) and her mother (around 1.85 meters), he forms a mobile portico. For a moment, one's thoughts drift—ah, the beauty ideal of antiquity...
Then Michel Ruge, a red-light district expert, comes along and explains how a bespectacled weakling can defeat an opponent. "Always aim for the eye! You repress it. *You mean the guilt? -No, the eye!*"
You might also want a tip from Kalle Schwensen on how to increase virility. He looks at you over his sunglasses (is that a social thing: looking paradoxical?), and says: "The most important thing is that I don't lose my composure."
And how does one lose their composure? "I don't know."