Ydessa, the Bears and etc. (2004) - full transcript

Ydessa Hendeles' exhibition entitled "The living and the Artificial" (consisting of works of art all comprising a photograph of living persons in the company of one or several teddy bears) ...

THIS COLLECTION OF PHOTOGRAPHS

GATHERED BY YDESSA
FROM AROUND THE WORLD

WAS INSPIRED BY A PHOTOGRAPH
OF HER COUSIN, SZLAMUS ZWEIGEL

WHO DIED AT AUSCHWITZ

A child with a teddy bear.

Two children with a teddy bear.

Two grown-up girls with two teddy bears.

Three toddlers with three teddy bears.

And two bears with two older ones.

And a tiny one with a large family.

Look at it, in the lower right corner.



It's the punctum of this photograph.

And the common thread
of the collection YDESSA Hendeles

exhibited in Munich, at the end of 2003.

Hundreds and hundreds of photographs.
In every one of them, we see a teddy bear.

This installation, which she named
Partners (The Teddy Bear Project),

was part of a larger exhibition

in which YDESSA had the triple role
of collector, exhibition curator,

and installation artist.

A DOCUMENTARY FILM BY

Soon, we want to learn more

about the lady with a name from a novel,
YDESSA, who imagined all of this.

On site, there are two clues.

What we see and hear about her
on a monitor set up in the museum's lobby.

YDESSA talks like an artist.



The other clue is found on the only
two captions in the entire exhibition.

Here she is in her crib,
with a teddy bear.

Here's her mom.

Here's her dad.

And the same dad,
only his sleeve showing.

YDESSA wanted to allude yet again
to the Holocaust he survived.

As she grew up, this little girl
amassed over 2,000 photographs.

The bear we see here.

Is it a childhood memory
that became an obsession?

Or merely a topic to narrow the choices?

Or the theme of an exhibition that
fills two rooms, from floor to ceiling?

I had to talk to this woman to find out.

It's so full, that we long for emptiness.

I flew to Toronto, where she lives.

She established a foundation
and a gallery there.

That's where we met.

She seems to live in osmosis
with the artworks she loves.

She gives them a lot of space
in the rooms of her gallery.

An entire room for Katharina Fritsch.

Which of the two is more mysterious?

YDESSA, with her long hair?

Or this ghost, near a pool of black blood?

Here's another work by the same artist.

Money.

At a preview opening...

YDESSA knows how to play
by the rules of the artistic milieu.

She's renowned for her superb collections
of contemporary art and photographs.

Also for her unique status
of "collector-curator-artist."

She herself makes the bouquets,
in the Puppy Vases by Jeff Koons.

Her profession of faith
is clear and sincere.

YDESSA values the meaning of the works
more than their market value.

Yet, it's worth noting that,
while she drives a Citroën 2CV,

she's wealthy enough to buy artworks
worth up to $800, 000.

To buy them,

store them, and exhibit them
when and how she wants.

That said, we came here
to see her Teddy Bear Project.

She knows that
and carries her teddy purse.

She shows us a teddy bear.

She says that bear started it all.

Then she did some research,
and found these unique photographs.

It took her ten years.

Are visitors aware of her unique quest?

Documentary reality is about real people.

This real child appearing in a photo
printed on real photographic paper.

But soon, reality slips away,
dividing itself, drifting towards fiction,

towards a script.

Once upon a time,
there was a sister and a brother

who were very close during childhood.

Later, they turned their backs
on one another.

The little girl quarreled with a neighbor.

Then eccentric characters,
or somewhat peculiar,

stirred up the family circle.

The sister studied ballet.

In high school, all the boys were in love
with the literature teacher.

The brother had become very romantic,

and found himself on a three-way trip.

Jules and Jim, maybe? With a beauty.

Other fiancés were athletic.

Then they started a family.

There are still free women out there.

Snapshots of women in risqué poses.

And snapshots of men
in their deep brotherhood

and their penchant for violence.

Then problems occur. Real puzzles.

Sometimes, things are worked out.
We all come together and have a laugh.

For children, it's not so simple.
They suddenly feel abandoned.

The train of life speeds up,
it all goes faster and faster.

It all piles up.

As soon as I came into this room,
I felt a bit claustrophobic.

I felt the effect of so many photos
piled one on top of another,

the staircases going up,

and the cabinets
bulging with information.

I felt like I was almost being suffocated
by somebody else's obsession.

There was no way to absorb
all the information.

There was something threatening
about the sheer volume of it.

You couldn't escape it.

Everywhere you looked,
there were teddy bears.

They appeared everywhere
like in a hall of mirrors

multiplying endlessly.

Sometimes the bear is large,
right in the middle and easy to spot.

Sometimes, we look for the bear.

You no longer look at the image,
nor the people.

One of the risks of this game.

Yet there are so many children,

so many people who are more captivating
than a teddy bear.

Yes, we do think about that.
All these small black-rimmed frames.

Like bereavement stationery.

We also think of a columbarium.

Artfully arranged boxes
containing the ashes of the deceased.

It crosses our mind.

We assume that most of the persons
we see here are dead,

but not all of them.

Not Ydessa's mother, anyway,
whom we met in Toronto.

She shows us a young man,
and herself as a young girl,

soon after their return from Auschwitz.

Then they were married.

And YDESSA was born in Marburg
in December, 1948.

That's where she grew up until age five.

Then the family emigrated
from Germany to Canada.

They enjoy flipping through
Ydessa's childhood photo albums.

There are no earlier photo albums.

Which is the case
for the families of deportees.

There's only this photograph
of a grandmother.

CURATOR

Knowing Ydessa's family circumstances,

we first assume she borrowed
photographs from other families,

to assemble an imaginary album.

But she obviously went way beyond
her personal quest,

to create a panorama for a wide audience,

in which each detail
can catch the eye of visitors.

Some pictures make them react,

or resonate in their own memory.

I think this exhibition is marvelous.

It's inevitably touching to witness
such a moment frozen in time.

We get acquainted with many people.

Each one, so unique.

A unique moment, gone forever.

This group of beach goers
shouts its joy of the moment.

But one of them is bidding us farewell.

There's a sense that
these moments are forever lost.

And when pictures have started to fade,
it's even worse.

Adding to the feeling of irremediable loss
is the deterioration of the photographs.

And when part of the picture
is out of focus or blurred...

we fear that the very memory
of that person dissolves.

As for this sweet and soft little girl,
dressed up like the pale bear she hugs,

she takes us back,
as does this whole exhibition,

to our fading childhood.

The bears that we see in the exhibition

are the same ones
that appear on the photographs.

YDESSA managed to buy the photos,
as well as the bears shown in them.

These belonged to
two brothers from Ottawa.

Photographed in 1908.

Then life separated them.

It's amazing that
YDESSA has found in two different cities,

the two bears now reunited.

Displayed atop the original photographs.

All the teddy bears we see
have documents proving their identity.

The collector has precise motivations

that are somewhat concealed
by the picturesque display.

It's more like a showcase

exhibiting people who have either
chosen or agreed to be represented.

Pictures that comply with how
they wanted to be remembered

from the day the picture was taken,

or by an amateur.

Or by a real photographer,
when they went to a studio.

They'd dress up nicely.

There'd be a backdrop of draped fabric.

Or a fake sky scape.
And a rug, or a setting.

They'd dare to exchange an official kiss,

during 1/10th,
or 1/5th of a second, or longer.

As for children, they'd dress them up
to take them to the photographer's studio.

They'd bring their own bear,

or the photographer had one handy
to soften up the kids.

Every studio had a bench
for children's photographs.

In conformity, there was some variety.

If you pay close attention to the benches,
do you still notice the children?

But we do notice the Hitler salute.

And the amazing eyes of this little girl.

Most of the photographs
seem to be taken in Germany,

or in the United States.

We found one taken
in Berlin, Ontario.

There's a small series...

devised to entertain
young and old alike...

of kids taking pictures of teddy bears.

There's a series
with all forms of wagons,

wheelbarrows, mini strollers, strollers,
mini carriages, and carriages.

There's the predictable
"seaside vacation" series.

It's entertaining to see the swimsuits
in vogue at the time.

We almost forget to ask,
"Why bring a teddy bear to the beach?"

Here are gathered little girls
with their pre-war hairdos.

With a very large bow on the head.

Decorated like a gift, or an Easter egg.

There are two exceptions in these photos.

A girl with a black bow...

and my own presence.

Improper because I didn't have a bear.

Here are sportsmen.

Was the teddy bear a mascot?

A veiled message to the family?

And now, sportswomen,

then groups of women and children.

And always with teddy bears,
for company or comfort.

So there's a self-portrait from
the 20th century in the Teddy Bears.

Then, we get to the third room.

The building that houses the museum
is steeped in this horrible tragedy.

The same walls surround the exhibition.

I thought it was remarkable

that YDESSA,
obviously a Jewish person,

and someone who's marked
by memories of the Holocaust,

would want to exhibit the show
in this environment.

I found it remarkable.

I don't know if it's brave or foolish.

In any case, it was certainly
out of the ordinary.

I agree, it was extremely brave
and very meaningful.

But history writes itself,
even on innocuous pictures.

Teddy bears found their way
from Army to family.

Here we see children
who loved their parents,

and whose father was in the military,

perhaps even among the worst.

It was wartime, but the children played.

They also played with other children
whose fathers weren't in the military,

or whose parents were Jewish.

Suddenly,
I thought of a children's book, Otto,

written and illustrated by Tomi Ungerer.

I slipped it into this film.

Because it literally says what
the exhibition implies with its title:

Partners.

We wonder if the children
visiting the exhibition

also enjoy seeing these naked women.

In any case, they observe
the bears, a cat on wheels...

and a stuffed dog.

It's a piece by Maurizio Cattelan,

the artist who also created Him,
the statue of Hitler.

YDESSA says this dog poses
the question of reality and fiction.

Either way, it's hard to tell whether
the dog's watching the watchman,

or the watchman's watching the dog.

When the watchman breaks for lunch,

a watch woman tells us
her side of the story.

For some, it's a speedy affair, indeed.

And there are very few who stoop

to look at the photographs at floor level.

Don't assume that the ones on the bottom
are of lesser importance

or of lesser interest.

Quite the contrary.

We discovered
a particularly interesting series.

Yet another series, rather strange.

Small bears, barely two inches tall.

Much smaller than the one
in this soldier's hand.

They were custom-made
with eyes placed up high,

for soldiers leaving for war.

YDESSA has one at home,

and another one steeped in history.

The other teddy bears in Ydessa's room

are displayed as in the bedrooms
of little girls and teenagers

who visit teddy bear websites,

and communicate by e-mail,
and chat, as they say,

with other teddy-bear-philes.

The difference in this room

is that each bear has a listed value
on the teddy bear market.

More than a collection,

it's stuffed equity
encircling Ydessa's bed.

As if tenderness and business could rhyme.

She's the happy owner, among others,
of two rare, colored bears.

One is battery-powered
and his eyes light up,

unless the battery's dead.

And another blue one.

She started her collection,
twenty years ago.

We learned that an unnamed Canadian

had paid $97, 615 for this bear.

Aside from auction sales,

YDESSA buys online,
mostly through eBay.

She created a real market
for what she loves.

And she has her network.

I recall her telling me
she clinched over 8, 000 deals.

Here, she sorts things out.

I think she knows every photograph.

She has a whole filing system,
organized by categories.

First, second, and third choices.

The pictures are tucked away
into transparent acid-free sleeves.

She can't resist showing us a few.

YDESSA lives alone, and works by herself
in this 18-room house,

where some things are much too large...

and others, much too small.

In her vast kitchen,

she prepares the page layout of a book
about her Teddy Bear Project collection.

She's used up all the space
around the central kitchen island

to lay out what's called
the "railroad" of her upcoming book.

She moves pictures around,
tries different pairings.

Faced with such obsessive energy,

such patience and meticulousness.

Plus the immensity of the kitchen
and the enormity of the project,

the length of Ydessa's red hair,
and the length of the "railroad,"

I was overcome by dizziness.

Calm will return
to the Munich installation,

which is just as contrast rich
as the double image of the bear.

A wild and dangerous animal,

which as teddy bear becomes
the very image of tenderness and comfort.

I wish to salute YDESSA Hendeles.
Intelligent and eccentric,

imbued with a certain fame
deriving from her collections,

and all alone amidst her treasures.

She deserves our admiration.

And cheers to Elliot.

And now YDESSA withdraws
into her English-style manor,

which could be the perfect setting
for a mystery film.

She hides herself away
behind a hidden door.

And what's left after this whirlwind
of photographs?

A few images.

This one, in which people
are posed with such intensity,

that we can hardly bear their gaze.

Or this group.

We could entitle this one Gazes.

Who's gazing at whom or what?
And who's gazing at the camera?

There's a couple gazing at each other.
One is gazing at the camera.

That means you. That means me.

And there are always a few loners.

This child enjoying the silence.

This man on a path,
with his teddy bear, paws inwards.

And this teddy bear woman,
the most mysterious of all.

Standing stiffly in the snow.