Matthias Koch

The cigar – a symbol, of course! A picture of duality, refinement on the outside, rot on the inside. The elite, watching over culture, while cryptic thoughts rise. Paul Celan knew it well: “a grave in the air” – we’re all building it together. What’s hidden here? A cycle that never ends, a constant relapse into the same entanglements, the same calls for order, for leaders.And the girl portraits, a young defiant figure, like Oskar Matzerath, seeing everything clearly: the splendor and the shame, eyes wide open. Look, see through! But who really sees?Koch shows it to us, in fragments, almost casually: the old cycle of authority, disobedience, rebellion. The hut in Todtnauberg, where thoughts wander among the trees, but dark shadows follow along. What Heidegger once wrote there is not just philosophical musings – it’s something that’s always followed us, in small and large ways. The butterflies keep dancing. The question remains: Can we escape?Family: always family! The grandfather, the “Master from Germany,” that fearsome shadow in the background. You want to get rid of him, but – he’s there. Regimes, ideologies don’t spring out of nowhere; they’re deeply rooted in history, in upbringing, in behavioral patterns passed down like old cigar butts.The past clings to us, and it won’t let go. Koch throws this heritage at our feet, uncomfortable, almost provocative: Can we escape it? Can we break with what was, or are we just walking in circles again and again? It’s not a historical stroll – it’s a cycle, one we all enter. A Celan quote here, an image there, a puff of cigar smoke, and before you know it: repetition.A call – yes, perhaps a warning: Those who refuse to face history, who avert their eyes, are doomed to repeat it.