Paul Sochacki’s paintings defy categorization, leaving one in a state of uncertainty. His insistence on adhering to traditional mediums is juxtaposed with a delicate delivery that feels almost sardonic in its portrayal of the tired battle cry that painting is “not dead.” This sentiment, of course, goes without saying and is a cliché that Sochacki seems to take great pleasure in. Similarly, his blending of mundane visual humor – complete with psychoanalytical cues – with a novice-like eagerness to please, and then subsequently reject, hints at his ultimate goal of rendering himself impenetrable and impervious to criticism.
In his debut exhibition at Galerie Dorothea Schlueter, aptly titled “Le Monde diplomatique,” Sochacki not only displayed his own paintings but also invited fellow artist Elke Marhöfer to screen her films in conjunction with them – further highlighting their playful irreverence. Sochacki’s approach forces the viewer to relinquish control and surrender to his whims.
This is evident in his small painting “Das Gespenst der Freiheit” (The Ghost of Freedom, 2010). A diminutive ghost, glowing and bashfully hovering in a sea of monochrome darkness, grasps a palette of primary colors in its left hand and a red-dipped brush in its right, tracing a clumsy line where its neck should be. The clever paradox of this pictorial suicide by a disembodied canvas-white entity is presented in a style that seems tailor-made for a refined nursery in an upper-class household. While the work may appear to mock painting and its self-imposed demise, any trace of ambitiousness is cleverly thwarted by Sochacki’s elusive humor.
