RESHUFFLING THE CARD

An image is more than just an image, and sometimes it is more
than the object of which it is an image.
Paul Valéry

Those are the words of Paul Valéry, and his reflection on the essence of the image applies above all to photography. However one looks at it, the camera is a device which in addition to its propensity to reality always brings wishes, visions, and subjective expressions to the fore. This is in spite of all the objections in terms of technical potentialities, digital manipulations, or traditional retouching.

In our culture and society, there are two things which are imbued with a similar magical evidential power, namely a signature and photography. With the one, the signatory uses his written name to guarantee the truth of a statement. No document has validity without this signature which proves that something has truly been held in the hands. Photography works similarly, because it recounts that the object in the image was present in front of the lens for at least a fraction of a second. Photography proves that the person in the image is herself or himself, or that the state of affairs at a specific point in time had a certain appearance and no other. This was explained by Roland Barthes in ‘Camera Lucida’, at a time when digital photography had not even been conceived of. But even today, the notion of the evidential nature of the medium and that of its authenticity, as it were, still remain part of our thinking.
‘Countenance’ is an old-fashioned but beautiful word; however, before long it will probably be transferred to the lexicon of forgotten words. Today, it is only rarely used as a synonym for ‘face’. Its German equivalent, ‘Antlitz’ (also rarely used nowadays) derives from ‘return of gaze’. Etymologically, it is a combination of ‘see’ and ‘gaze’, and thus gets right to the heart of portrait photography.
Within this probably most demanding genre of photography, the self portrait is a particular construct, because the object and creator of the image are one and the same, and ideally the result in the eye of the viewer coincides with the intention of the image’s conceiver. The gaze into the camera is at the same time a gaze into oneself, and the image so created is a reflection of self-definition, the expression of visions and conceptions which the photographer connects with his own person and his characteristics

The ABETTERI series of self portraits is a game in which Johannes Gramm has reshuffled the cards of the photographic self image. King, Queen, and Jack, and their attributes – strength, beauty, youth – are gone through in every aspect, and unfurled in every facet. In states between brutal and battered, the kings appear drawn, tattooed and pierced, without abdicating their upright and self-confident bearing. The other archetypes also maintain their frontality, but they change. The Queens, who are able only to half cover their nakedness, have a gentler gaze, and the raised shoulders speak of a self-protective posture. In addition to their questioning, naive facial expressions, the younger Jacks have haircuts which in combination with their features are neither clearly male nor female. They are still undamaged, but certainly resolute to everything.
In the history of photography, there is a tradition of photographic self portraits as the location for a mise-en-scène in which the metamorphosis in front of the camera becomes a search and type of redefinition of one’s own persona. The Bauhaus artist Gertrud Arndt (1903 – 2000) attempted roles and examples of female expression, through dressing herself in elaborate laces, fabrics, and hats. In the 1930 series, she becomes the naïve doll-like girl, the worldly seductress, the secretive beauty, or the strict observer. The French artist Claude Cahun (1894 – 1954) was simultaneously an actress, photographer, and writer, and for four decades she created role models and poses in front of the camera, experimented with herself and with the possibilities of photography.
Johannes Gramm follows a comparable strategy. He does not restrict himself to experimentation with clothes, but instead the artist works graphically with his own body. With him, the King bears neither a crown nor a sceptre; instead, as the embodiment of power and strength, he has wounds. And he avails of the effectiveness of tattooed symbols, of slogans like ‘Love’ and ‘Hate’, and of the outwardly worn experience of pain. Clothes make the man, even in our society today, but apart from the general dress code, the body which has been manipulated has become more than ever the expressive medium of self-definition. And the path via the camera allows the step to be made to the role change of the sexes or of the generations. Here however, Johannes Gramm never pretends to be anyone other than himself – photography shows us this because it loves the truth. For him, it remains a game in which one can have good or bad luck. And the question, ‘What is true and what is made up?’ has only a subordinate role when viewing the pictures, because it is much more important to perceive the image for what it is.

When I am old, I do not want to be alone, or Romeo and Juliet or Hansel and Gretel

The photographic double portraits always show one and the same person, sometimes with small variations, sometimes in various moments of expression. The viewer stands in front of them, and tends to make comparisons, looks for differences, or considers how many different people there are. The hands extended between the two Hims or Hers seem inexplicable.
Johannes Gramm makes reference to a phenomenon which does not exist visually: To take oneself by the hand. This image of the hero who pulls himself out of the water by his own hair is known from the tales of Münchhausen. A story from the actual baron of lies, as a result of which we as educated readers are certain that it was made up. In secret though, we play out this scene, and come to the conclusion that it really wouldn’t be a bad idea, and in fact it could be wonderful if once in a while one could pull oneself by one’s hair out of the mess. 
The series by Johannes Gramm has two titles. The surtitle refers to fears and sadnesses which today seem to be common. The subtitle has been borrowed unchanged from fairy tale examples, from the great but tragic pair of lovers who can no longer live without each other, and from the brother and sister who tenderly watch over one another. However, these literary examples cannot be rediscovered ‘just like that’ in the images. What is visible are people of today, sometimes sceptical, sometimes optimistic. The muted presentation of the subjects in the studio creates a reality, with long trousers and short shirts; it makes the separation between the world of ideal dreams and reality palpable. As already in the ABETTERI series, this is a matter of precise modes of observation, of closeness to life of photography, and of our belief in it.

It can be said that the photography of Johannes Gramm is connected to reality. Photography loves and plays with reality, looks for what pleases it, falls in love with it, reorganises it, stacks it in layers, interprets it, grasps it, tries to understand it, and in the end creates a semblance of great verisimilitude, which however is still an image when all is said and done.