German artist Franka Hörnschemeyer works with architecture and space, using arrangements of objects made with ordinary building materials to examine history and social structures. By casting the familiar in a new light, her installations, objects, and site-specific interventions open a range of temporal and spatial associations. “Die Ökonomen (Singspiel),” her current exhibition at the Neuer Berliner Kunstverein (n.b.k.) Showroom in Berlin, features a new ensemble of works created for the space. Repurposed found objects and elements from earlier works transform the site into a conceptual stage where visitor observation alters the relations of five characters.
Robert Preece: What were the ideas behind “The Economists (Singspiel)?” And how does a Singspiel, which is a kind of comedic opera with spoken dialogue, fit in?
Franka Hörnschemeyer: I began working on the exhibition last summer with curators Anna Lena Seiser and Krisztina Hunya, which gave me the opportunity to plan over a longer period. My first thought was to call it “Die Ökonomen”(“The Economists”). This gave me an entry point into a world that I wanted to translate into another space, which I combined with the idea of a Singspiel.
I started this approach with Das Westzimmer (The Western Chamber, 2001), a work that refers to the 13-century Chinese “Singspiel” of the same name. It’s a very popular, traditional play that combines music, acrobatics, and other elements. So, I provided the “economists” at n.b.k. with a stage on which they could act as a permanent ensemble of five characters. When visitors enter the exhibition, they also become actors in the play, transforming it through their presence. In the double-slit experiment, a foundational concept in quantum theory, it was shown that the observer changes the behavior of particles. Whenever someone or something enters into a relationship with someone or something else, both are affected, fundamentally changing the situation. There are only subjective, individual experiences—objective perception does not exist. That’s why I often reflect on how and to what extent the observer changes the experiment.
RP: What is the symbolism of the missing puzzle pieces in Slight Discrepancy (2025)? You’ve stacked them up against the wall outside the gallery. I feel like I want to return them to the space and complete the puzzle.
FH: By observing and engaging with the five characters of the Singspiel, you’ve entered into an exchange; you’ve just described how your observations alter the situation. My work often explores the thresholds of imagination, illusion, and representation.
Slight Discrepancy was created specifically for the n.b.k. Showroom. It consists of 96 wooden panels faced with roofing felt, arranged like a large puzzle. I removed 33 panels and placed them outside the exhibition space. The pattern of empty spaces created by this removal is integral to my concept; by taking something away, I have added something else. The missing panels create islands—gaps among the remaining pieces that reveal the painted floorboards beneath. The outer edges of these voids accentuate an arrangement that can also be read as a map. Separated from the whole, the displaced panels exist in a state of mental motion. Gaps, holes, and openings are central to my thinking and practice.
RP: I like the horizontal band of jute rope, Critical Noise (2025), for its stability, formalism, and how it directs the eye.
FH: The jute rope is pulled taut through a hole in the wall several times and around a doorway into the exhibition space. It simultaneously ignores and highlights the separation between the two rooms. Critical Noise guides us from one space to the other and, through the drilled opening made specifically for the exhibition, it allows both spaces to be experienced at once. The rope cinches the wall like a corset.
The position of the hole—85 centimeters above the floor—corresponds to the standard height for an accessible light switch. The conspicuously small doorway that leads into the n.b.k. Showroom is a decisive element of the exhibition; without its specific proportions, Critical Noise could not exist. This doorway will be enlarged and made barrier-free for future exhibitions. Such proportional relationships—apparent, yet overlooked—are fundamental to my work, as are the physical conditions of our surroundings.
RP: Why did you place three objects on Slight Discrepancy? How did you select them?
FH: The number of characters was determined early on: there are five in total. Almost as soon as I decided on the exhibition title, I knew which figures should be part of the play. They come from different contexts and are either components of earlier works, found objects that I altered or left unchanged, or newly developed pieces created specifically for this situation.
All five characters take their names from “Communication in the Presence of Noise,” a seminal paper by the American mathematician Claude E. Shannon. The themes of transmission and encryption of information are part of the Singspiel, and for me, the names and characters form a single unit—they belong together.
I can’t say exactly in which order the figures appeared, though, of course, the newly created ones were completed last. Here, too, the proportions of the characters and the space work together: their relationships and interactions create the arrangement in the space, creating a sense of co-existence rather than hierarchy.
RP: One of these objects is The Channel (2024), which looks like a piece of wood. Did you alter it? Why is it The Channel?
FH: The Channel is a found object that I transformed. A few years ago, I picked up a branch from a freshly felled tree and buried it in the ground. I unearthed it several times to observe the traces left by microorganisms and small animals. After about two years, it reached the state I was aiming for, and it was immediately clear to me that it should be called The Channel.
By contrast, the bright-red pressure compensation tank remained unchanged in my studio for years. Here, too, it was immediately clear that it would be part of this particular ensemble—it is called Information Source.
RP: Where did you source the material for Volume of Uncertainty (2017–25)? How did you build up its circular pieces, which are assembled in an atom-like way?
FH: For Volume of Uncertainty, I have to go back several years, since I consistently reuse materials in my work—there is no waste. This approach to material is a recurring principle in my practice. Volume of Uncertainty is made of plasterboard, commonly used in damp rooms, which gives it its light green color.
In Berlin, in 2017, I used perforated plasterboard for the first time and kept the round cutouts—called “cookies”—produced when drilling holes. These holes are drilled into plasterboard walls for sockets or light switches—which relates conceptually to Critical Noise—only my panels were filled with countless holes.
In 2022, the perforated plasterboard panels became part of Vermutung (Conjecture), which was exhibited at Museum Kurhaus Kleve. Later, I created Volume of Uncertainty by threading the leftover plaster “cookies” onto steel wire. The piece has appeared in various contexts—sometimes hanging, sometimes lying down—and here it leans against and partially connects to the wall.
RP: Did you do a lot of testing to determine the placement of the works in the space? I’m particularly curious about Slight Discrepancy and the arrangement of the three other works on the puzzle pieces. When did you know you were finished?
FH: Although the exhibition title and characters were decided early on, producing Slight Discrepancy was a lengthy process. At the same time, I developed the relationships among the characters. For complex spatial arrangements, I use models—here, at a scale of 1:10. It’s always fascinating what a model can reveal. I became so immersed in “Die Ökonomen” that the model was like an entire world for me. At the same time, I concentrated on the personalities of the figures, on their encounters and interactions, and on their harmony. I only know a work is finished when it is finished.
RP: Do you think of such an interconnected exhibition of works as an installation? And how do these new works relate to your previous projects?
FH: I don’t refer to my works as installations, but as sculptures or spatial constructions. An essential aspect of their development is the dialogue with materials—often those used in today’s rapidly constructed buildings. I have a conversation with materials and a space, explore their characteristics, such as the former identity of the location, and operate on both spatial and temporal axes.
The work I created for the Paul Löbe Building of the German Bundestag is an early example of this approach. The meaning of a material lies in its origin, production, and function. If you listen carefully, you can learn a great deal.
I see sculpture as an exploration of unexpected relationships between materials. I also see myself as material—capable of changing characteristics and therefore at home in different realities.
“Die Ökonomen (Singspiel)” is on view at n.b.k. through August 3, 2025.
