Janine Dollmann
Munich-based artist Janine Dollmann documents herself to explore the concept of identity and its illusions. Through the use of clothing, makeup, props, and poses, she not only constructs a sense of who we are but also questions the essence of human experience.
Dollman draws from her background in theater to bring a unique perspective into her work. Her self-portraits and performances subvert traditional imagery, pushing the boundaries of societal norms. By embodying diverse characters, she exposes the fluidity, infinity and subjectivity of the self, while posing a critical examination of the constructs we have inherited.
As a self-professed latecomer to smartphones and technology, Dollmann's artistic journey goes beyond the performative stage and into the digital realm. Here, she has given life to a mesmerizing series of pink-hued, provocative forms that simultaneously dehumanize and captivate as they move.
In this interview, Dollmann shares her unfiltered reflections, inviting us into her world, where stereotypes crumble, and identities can be reshaped.
Dear Janine, it's an honor and a pleasure to interview you. Could you please start by introducing yourself and your work?
When you and Donald asked me for an interview, I pictured my ego having a 72-hour party. Maybe it was because I was on my way to a festival at the same time. Now, I find myself seated in front of my computer in my one-bedroom apartment, sweating like crazy at around 40 degrees. I can't tell if it's the heat, your thought-provoking questions, or just the anxiety induced by the blank sheet of paper before me. That familiar feeling of being overwhelmed comes over me. It's like a time machine throwing me back a decade ago when I was studying art history. I was sitting in bed, probably way too comfortable, surrounded by white sheets filled with black text. My eyes recognized individual letters, words, and sentences as I tried to trace their paths across multiple lines. However, the more I concentrated on grasping the semantics, the more the meaning would just slip away, eventually lulling me to sleep. Wake up! I realized that the intricate language of art history is not the language I want to speak in the future. In the meantime, I have completed my studies in stage and costume design at the Academy of Fine Arts in Munich. And now, I find myself facing this blank sheet of paper. I watch one of my fingers as it automatically moves over and over again to the backspace key. Just a moment ago, my fingers were dancing tango on the keyboard. I feel this frustrating inability to translate my thoughts into words that truly capture the essence of my work. But I'm still sitting here, not giving up. And the bottom line is actually quite simple: I'm concerned with the "what" and "how" rather than with the "why". Let's imagine a scenario: I show up with your favorite cake. At first, you might wonder about my motives and look for an answer. Obviously, I’ve got my reasons, otherwise there wouldn’t be any cake. But does the „why“ affect how you taste it? Or does it distract you from experiencing the taste at that exact moment? You look at the cake, you can smell it. It practically screams "Eat me!", so I slice a piece for you. Finally, you take a bite. And I see your reaction in your face. You say, "Oh my, that's salty!".
The first time I saw you perform was back in 2017 in Munich. I was still immersing myself in German culture, particularly that of Bavaria - something that was quite foreign to a Colombian like me. For the performance titled 'Frida', you created an installation of a Leberkäse stand and performed as the woman selling them, hyperbolizing Bavarian stereotypes. In fact, stereotypes seem to hold a prominent place in your artistic practice. Could you shed some light on why stereotypes are crucial elements in your work?
Stereotypes are like bad habits. They creep in slowly. Everyone has them and everyone wants to get rid of them. But it is part of our perception. The construct of stereotypes begins in our perception of what we see. Our brain tries to simplify and classify information for the sake of efficiency. Stereotypes confront us at all times with our own human failures, but failures can be dealt with. Dealing with stereotypes is by no means new in the art world. My interest in stereotypes comes from the theater context. When you develop costume designs, you are inevitably confronted with stereotypes. After all, it's about creating new characters or convincing illusions of identities. Stereotypes are an inherent aspect of the craft, a starting point for a reflective journey. Without focus, you will crash into a metaphorical tree that is the pure reproduction of stereotypes. Such a collision is painful. But the goal is to discover an aesthetic break. Once found, you confront the visitors. You look at their faces and you can see this: „Oh wait“. Initially, you may perceive a mere "mask" of a face, but gradually, individual facial muscles come alive, revealing a range of emotions. You witness the expression of pure emotion on their face. That's beautiful!
Your 'Self-Portrait' series captures a fascinating exploration of self-reflection through iconic characters (Sailor Moon, the pope, old people, etc.) How does the series challenge conventional notions of identity? Could you elaborate on the symbolism behind choosing these characters as a vessel for your own introspective journey?
That's a really exciting and challenging question. I’d like to address it from two different perspectives.
Let's spotlight on the first one: Identity is basically a narrative construct that our supposed "self" has created. This "self" constantly whispers to us: These are your emotions, these are your thoughts, these are your individual experiences. All this forms our perception of who we are. Maybe you are bored by my blah blah right now. But are you really bored by it yourself or is it not rather the feeling of boredom that you perceive at this moment. And this leads us to an intriguing point. We tend to identify every perception within our own consciousness with our "self". But what is this "self" supposed to be anyway? Isn't it such just a thought, a feeling, a conceptual self-image created by our mind? Hmm. In some ways, identity behaves like water at first glance. It is fluid, difficult to grasp, and we are all full of it. But at second glance, you notice the essential difference: identity is an illusion. And after all, a mirage doesn't help us survive. When we think of terms like old, staid people, Sailor Moon, or the Pope, they are icons that refer to certain groups in a metaphorical sense. For instance, when I think of old people, I immediately picture my grandparents and the afternoons we spent together in their apartment, engaging in ordinary activities like cooking, eating, and watching TV. The only difference now was that I dressed up as an old woman, while my mom captured the moment with her camera. trying to pretend being somebody else through costume. So, I ask you this question: What is my supposed identity at this moment? Does it truly matter, or isn’t it more about representing an experience from my past? Are you thinking about your own grandparents right now?
Let’s take a closer look at the second perspective: I love what you see in my self-portraits. Essentially, your questions point directly to the fiction of identity. You see me in my role as an artist, and you interpret my self-portraits as pieces of art, attempting to uncover deeper meaning within them. However, if I were to reveal that most of my self-portraits were primarily created as semester assignments from my professor, would you still view my work in the same light? Would you take me seriously as an artist? Or would I, in that moment, demystify both my work and myself? Consider the scenario with the cake: this perfectly illustrates the "why" problem. Regardless, I have influenced your perception of me and my artwork, even though the works themselves remain unchanged.
—> You see? Playing roles is part of the game. So choose the role you want me to play ;)
Your performances are known for their immersive nature, engaging the audience as active participants. Could you expand on the importance of audience involvement in your work? How does this interaction influence the intended meaning and impact of your performances?
My performances are theatrical in nature. Picture this: As you look in the mirror, you encounter an illusion of yourself, and at the same time recognize yourself in it. In that moment, there I stand, trying to keep you in front of the mirror. I challenge you to look more closely, to move, to smell, to taste, and to confront and break free from your memories and thought patterns. I don't see you as a passive, visual recipient. Rather, I encourage you to experience the immediate moment. This immediacy is unpredictable, and thus, I embrace improvisation in my performances. One such instance was when I sat in a self-built storefront, whose facade I covered with pastel-colored insulation boards. Our class transformed during the annual exhibition into a promenade, and visitors strolled from one shop window to the next. In one of the last storefronts, I sat on an old chair, splattered with colorful splotches of paint. Wearing a purple dress and pink shoes, I waited like a living mannequin. The first visitor came around the corner. I could see her amazement at my unexpected presence. She laughed, stared at me and looked away again. That was the moment I knew what to do. I stared at her, emotionless, challenged her, occasionally moving my leg or arm. For some visitors, the intensity was almost too much to bear. Their gaze turned away from me, as if I had caught them watching porn. The performance evolved into a game of seeing and being seen, even among the visitors. It thus took on a dynamic of its own. It became complete. When you look away, I search for eye contact with another person. But if I don't see anyone, then I was left with just my own reflection.
Irony plays a significant role in your artistic practice, particularly in subverting gender stereotypes. Can explain how irony becomes a powerful tool in dismantling societal expectations? How do you strike a balance between satire and provocation in your artistic expression?
I asked ChatGPT to answer your first question for me: Irony allows me to disrupt traditional narratives by presenting them in unexpected or exaggerated ways. It helps expose the constructed nature of gender roles and expectations, emphasizing their arbitrariness and subjectivity. Through irony, I can highlight the performative aspects of gender, demonstrating that it is a socially constructed concept rather than an inherent or fixed characteristic.
Amazing! Thank you! Now, let's proceed to the second question. Every piece of work exists within its unique context. You have to dive deep into each specific context, even if you deal with similar topics. Accordingly, not only does the form of irony vary, but also inevitably its counterweight. For a publication, I had to write a short text about my final work. I believe this serves as a good example of how I managed to keep balance in this specific work:
The idea: Performance about pole dancing. It has something to do with me.
The space: Extremely narrow, cramped space with a free-standing pole. Correct, this has nothing to do with a pole studio.
Performer: Yeah, right... I'd rather do it as a man. Janine Dollmann as Robin Dollmann, fictional employee of the cleaning service „dollmann“. Because Pole has more to do with cleaning than you think.
Performance: Mobile music, mop, get in there. Discover the pole. First wipe. Eye contact. Curiosity. Observe. Checking out. Flirting. Courage. Go get 'em tiger. Courtship dance. Exhaustion. Ciao.
And was that all you asked? Nope. A collision of several toes and a mirror two days before the exam resulted in an aesthetic fracture. Robin is limping. What's left of the courtship dance when he's no longer on healthy feet? How "manly" are the poses when they have a kink?
Drawing from your theater background, how does the collaborative nature of theater influence your approach to creating performances and self-portraits? Can you share any experiences where collaboration has enriched or challenged your artistic vision?
I find little interest in photographing myself using a tripod. After all, I can't always keep an eye on what's happening behind me. That’s why I prefer looking for a photographer within my familiar environment. They see more than I do and can quickly react to spontaneous, unexpected situations. And of course, they bring their own ideas to the table. Once you take a look at the photos, you basically see their own view and perception of my concept. When I look at the self-portraits as an old woman, I see a family, familiarity and intimacy. These emotions arise not just because I'm with my grandparents, but because my mom was the one who took those pictures. For me, collaboration is an opportunity for enrichment, particularly when I'm not improvising during performances. While working on my final show, I was filming myself. But it's like having a blind spot. Sometimes you just don’t see the obvious, and that's when having someone's support and input becomes incredibly valuable, leading to fresh ideas and insights. That said, without the help of others, I would be totally lost and I am truly grateful to everyone who has supported me in any way over the past few years <3. A special thanks goes to my esteemed ping pong partner Stephanie Zimmer. If possible, we work together as a team on stage and costume designs at the theater. The theater, with its collaborative nature, can be an immensely fulfilling experience. Yet, I guess there is this general romanticized and idealized idea of what we think theater is or should be. In reality, the theater is not always as open, tolerant, and harmless as you think. It is a bastion of traditional hierarchical structures, built on an exploitative principle. It is essential to be aware of this before entering this world. As a stage and costume designer you have to strike a balance between service and your artistic idea. Occasionally, it can get pretty ugly, but thankfully, I've been spared from experiencing much of it, except for a few minor situations. From my immediate environment, I hear stories of power struggles and abuse of authority, true to the motto ‘eat or be eaten’.
Your website is an integral part of your artistic presentation, with its playful character and retro-game aesthetics. How does the digital platform enhance the viewer's experience of your artworks? How do you leverage technology to extend the reach and impact of your artistic message?
Sometimes I think I'm just that one weird aunt in your family that you're trying to explain what Tinder is. Until a year ago, I didn't have Instagram, a website, or a smartphone, practically like a hermit on a desert island or a kid stuck in a Gameboy game in the 90s. That was my reality. Until I got a prize for my final show. During the final show, a representative from the foundation suddenly stood in front of me: “Why don't you have a website? I couldn’t find anything about you on the Internet.” I didn't even know I was a virtual ghost. It was time to become visible. With the help of a scholarship, I was able to replace my old, crawling, loud-breathing laptop with a fast computer. My mission was clear: I wanted to create my own website, one that surpasses the mundane information platforms we often encounter. I was bored of standardized, construction kit websites with their similar structure and overwhelming flood of images. Instead, I wanted visitors to truly experience my works and immerse themselves in my little world. I'm not a web developer, but I think you can experience my playful way of working - despite my technical limitations. Take some time (trust me, you'll need it) and play with me -> ww.janinedollmann.com
By the way, I finally have both Instagram and a smartphone. But sadly, my website doesn't appear at the top of Google search results. Dear reader, if you have an expertise in this area, do you want to help me fix this? Text me: mail@janinedollmann.com.
During the pandemic, you began experimenting with Blender, a versatile software known for its use in animated films, visual effects, and 3D art. Your animated pieces feature chubby characters with massive lips that twist and turn, sometimes even into deformation. Could you elaborate on the creative process behind these animations? What inspired you to explore these dynamic and transformative bodily movements? How do these distortions contribute to the overall message or narrative you aim to convey through your animated artworks?
I started my Blender journey about 9 months ago, after a nerve-wracking few months of finally getting my website online. Frustrated due to the lack of orders at the theater and annoyed by my dependence on that institution, I decided to download Blender one ordinary morning as I sipped my coffee. I've always been fascinated by digital animation, but my laziness kept me from learning it. Or when was the last time you learned a new language? You have to take your time and I'm not a very patient person when it comes to learning processes. I want to speak a language fluently without having to invest time in it. So I started chatting anyway and found myself on a journey of new discoveries. I often take detours because I don't understand the software’s structure. I attempt to follow directions, but frequently wander off and search for my own way through the labyrinth. I fall down over and over again until I suddenly land in an entirely new and uncharted place. Along the way, I discover new tools that prove to be valuable or that I can utilize in unconventional ways. During the process, I encounter what seemed to be mistakes which I can integrate creatively in my animations. I create digital bodies that resemble living beings. But they are empty illusions, shells, not subject to any laws of nature. I try to get to the bottom of this discrepancy through my playful and unconventional approach in order to generate new images, create new associations and a whole new realm of experience. If I wasn't answering interview questions right now, I would certainly be sailing through this digital world as an explorer. I love this journey into the unknown.
The spectator's role is paramount in your artistic practice. What emotions or reactions do you hope your audience experiences?
Having fun! Honestly, I like every reaction except indifference.
Exploring gender can be a complex and sensitive endeavor. Have you encountered any surprising or thought-provoking reactions from viewers? How do you navigate potential misinterpretations or pushback while maintaining the integrity of your artistic vision?
The most blatant reaction I experienced was during my performance "Frida". I had the opportunity to perform at two different places in Munich: throughout the duration of the annual exhibition at the Academy of Fine Arts and for one evening at an exhibition opening hosted by a leading venture capital investor in Germany. Ironically, it was on this particular evening that I was yelled at and insulted by one of the guests. He accused me of discrediting a profession through my work. Despite the impulse to defend myself, I did what I always do: I remained in my role. He was so pissed off that I honestly almost peed my pants. The whole situation seemed surreal and absurd – surrounded by wealthy capital investors, I was being accused of exploitation. It felt completely unfair. After the performance, I went home because I didn't feel like confrontation. I wondered how my seemingly harmless performance could trigger such a strong reaction. I thought about this rich, middle-aged, white cis man who attacked me. And yes, it matters who criticizes you. Yet, I didn't know anything about him, and now found myself stigmatizing him myself. Apparently, my performance wasn't as innocuous as I had perceived it to be. I was surprised and intrigued at the same time. Reactions are helpful to rethink one's own work and to understand its impact on others. And I have to deal with and reflect on it. Sure. Was I not careful enough and hit a tree in a moment of carelessness, or did I turn the steering wheel at the last moment? He would claim the former, while I would argue for the latter. It depends on the perspective. But what I don't want is to impose my perspective on anyone. First and foremost, I am interested in the experience of subjective perception.
Your body of work encompasses a wide range of aesthetics across various mediums. Could you discuss the decision-making process behind the visual language of each series? How do you adapt your artistic expression to different mediums while retaining a cohesive artistic voice?
If I were any person browsing through my Instagram profile, I would be completely confused. I would ask myself: “What is she actually doing?” To me, these works are like snapshots. Everyone is evolving, everything is evolving. But we don't follow a classic Hollywood narrative. I think a teleological model of development is complete nonsense. I perceive these different works as relics of my artistic journey. Each piece reflects my interest in various themes, materials, and aesthetics of its time. However, there are still a few essential companions throughout my journey as you now know. Whenever I get bored or distracted, I start a new game.
courtesy of JANINE DOLLMANN
interview by JULIANA NEIRA
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