CHEMNITZ, Germany — With its selection as the European Capital of Culture 2025, Chemnitz has gained newfound prominence on the cultural map of Europe. Nevertheless, the city has also gained notoriety as the epicenter of rising far-right sentiment within German politics, particularly following recent local elections dominated by the Alternative for Germany party. In this politically charged atmosphere, Chemnitz emerged as a poignant venue to explore the haunting themes of war and the vibrant contributions of Ukrainian art, encapsulated in the theme of the fourth Pochen Biennale, which ran from September 26 to October 20 under the evocative title: Ex Oriente Ignis, translating to “The Fire Comes From the East” in Latin.
The biennale title draws inspiration from Ukrainian author Mykola Khvylovy, who reinterpreted the Latin phrase “Ex oriente lux” — meaning “Light comes from the East” — in his 1920s modernist poem as “Ex oriente fumis,” or “Smoke comes from the East.” This transformation celebrated the industrialization that followed the 1917 Russian Revolution, but at the biennale, the focus returned to the primal element of fire, serving both as a metaphor and a reflection of the tumultuous state of Eastern Europe, particularly Ukraine.
In a city indelibly marked by a colossal, 23-foot-tall (~7-meter-tall) head of Karl Marx—an emblem retained by locals post-Communist regime—the biennale provided a thought-provoking counterbalance to the overarching “Eastern State of Mind” theme accompanying Chemnitz’s nomination as the European Capital of Culture.
“The ‘Eastern State of Mind’ slogan is an attempt to place Chemnitz and the mentality of its citizens in a European context,” asserted Kim Brian Dudek, project manager of the Pochen Biennale, during an insightful walk-through of the exhibition on October 12. “This is a simplification and reduction that ignores how discursive, intellectually complex, and profound the East is, exemplified by authors like [Milan] Kundera, Czesław Miłosz, or Ismail Kadare.”
The expansive former Wirkbau textile factory, which once held the title of Germany’s largest textile factory upon its opening in 1883, showcased the works of 22 artists primarily from Germany and Eastern Europe. The artworks employed a diverse array of media, revealing the visceral imagery and haunting sounds of destruction brought upon Ukraine by Russian aggression, encapsulating a looming sense of fear, war, and mortality. Notably, the name “Pochen” is multi-faceted in meaning, conveying the notion of insistence, rhythmic tapping, or pounding, much like the labor that defined the region’s uranium mines.
Danylo Galkin’s poignant installation “Tourniquet” featured two turnstiles that spun in only one direction. Originally conceived in 2013 during the precursors of the Maidan Revolution, the installation poignantly represents the forced conscription of Ukrainian men and their resulting travel restrictions.
The turnstiles granted access to a stark white chamber illuminated by fluorescent lights, housing the installation “European Sleep.” Created by bergenissen — a collective operating under the names of Alisa Berger and Lena Ditte Nissen — this uninspiring room evoked the chilling aesthetic of a gas chamber melded with the ambiance of an ordinary modern office.
Nearby, Mykola Ridnyi’s sculpture “Dark City” (2015) presented a haunting model of an urban landscape marked by black governmental edifices, residential blocks, and transport networks, all overshadowed by a blank flag, signifying both territorial claims and military targets. Coupled with his video “The District” (2022), Ridnyi guides viewers through his childhood memories of Northern Saltivka, now ravaged by heavy Russian bombardments.
A sizable hall within the Wirkbau was dedicated to an array of video works that emerged as the stars of the biennale. One notable piece was Maria Matiashova’s “Futile Words, Loud Noises” (2022), which critiques the hypocrisy of international diplomatic entities through cleverly crafted paper planes, an artistic representation drawn from the Geneva Conventions and similar treaties aimed at prohibiting particularly brutal weaponry. Furthermore, in “How to Disappear” (2020), the Austrian art collective Total Refusal, which self-identifies as pseudo-Marxist media guerrillas, illustrated the harrowing reality of escaping from the violent clutches of war in the video game Battlefield V. In this virtual realm, even desperate actions like leaping off cliffs or self-inflicted wounds fail to result in death; the game programmed inescapability into the player’s experience, underscoring the grim nature of conflict.
While the biennale showcased a predominance of Ukrainian artists, it also extended its reach to include international perspectives. Noteworthy works included those from Vietnamese-German artist Sung Tieu, who craftily explored the “Havana Syndrome”—an alleged sonic attack against American diplomats—through an immersive video reconstructing the Hotel Nacional de Cuba. Additionally, Cyprien Gaillard’s thought-provoking film “Ocean II Ocean,” first unveiled at the 58th Venice Biennale in 2019, showcases the fate of New York City subway cars as they are discarded in the ocean, transforming into haunting aquatic relics inhabited by fish navigating through their rusted windows.
The biennale also courageously revived an iconic mural from the German Democratic Republic era: “The Mechanization of Agriculture” (1960) by Karl Heinz Jakob. Once a centerpiece for the city council of Chemnitz, then known as Karl-Marx-Stadt, this monumental artwork, measuring approximately 36 feet long and 12.5 feet high (~11 by 3.8 meters), was obscured with drywall in 2002 to modernize the space. In a compelling performance on the biennale’s opening day, Jakob’s granddaughter, artist Henrike Naumann, rekindled the mural’s spirit in the Chemnitz town hall, joined by the Chem Valley Line Dancer eV and the hardstyle jumpers of Nischelhupper. Meanwhile, Leipzig artist Susanne Rische crafted a drawing of the original mural, inviting Chemnitz residents to collaboratively recreate it under the guidance of the biennale team.
A youth art section at the biennale cleverly played on the event’s theme with the title “Ex Oriente Polylux.” Drawing inspiration from the Polylux brand of East German projectors commonly utilized in schools during the Communist era, this interactive section enabled children to explore the art of projection, allowing them to place objects on projectors and playfully engage with translucent, hanging screens.
“The fall of the Berlin Wall and the collapse of the so-called ‘Eastern Bloc’ did not mark the ‘end of history,’” Dudek reminded attendees, addressing prevailing misconceptions about formerly Communist regions in the wake of the 1990s idea advocated by American political scientist Francis Fukuyama.
“The resulting new geopolitical orientations were commented on by Chancellor Scholz in his speech at Charles University in Prague, when he said that Europe’s center is moving eastwards,” Dudek elaborated. “The Biennale aims to create a space for discourse, to discuss whose experiences and ideas shape the debate about our future, about the East, and about Ukraine, in order to start thinking of a common future in fragile times.”
