Bio­gra­phy

Ina Otzko (1972) is born in Sand­ness­jøen, Nort­hern Nor­way. She com­ple­ted three Mas­ters, two in Golds­miths Col­lege Uni­ver­sity of Lon­don, UK (MA Image and Com­mu­ni­ca­tion 2004, MFA Fine Art 2007) and one in UdK / Uni­ver­si­tät der Kunste in Ber­lin, Ger­many (MA Sound Stu­dies 2012). She initia­ted and directs the art pro­ject ABH/ Art­Base Hel­ge­land 66°N (Nor­way) and its AiR Hel­ge­land — Ber­lin Artist Exch­ange Pro­gram, is on the artistic advi­sory board for LIAF (Lofo­ten Inter­na­tio­nal Art Fes­ti­val), is an Art Con­sul­tant for KORO (the Nor­we­gian Public Art com­mis­sio­ning body), is Chair for NNBK/ North-Norwegian Visual Artist Asso­cia­tion and Chair for Alsta­haug Art Society. Her works has been pre­sen­ted in nume­rous spaces, muse­ums and gal­le­ries inter­na­tio­nally. She lives and works in Nor­way, Ger­many and Italy.

Lon­ging and Belon­ging – Ina Otzko’s visi­ted interiors

Ina Otzko reve­als her noma­dic ten­den­cies in this exhi­bi­tion of pho­to­graphs and video. The inte­ri­ors that Otzko pho­to­graphs are the pri­vate homes of people she has met whilst tra­vel­ling. Yet the lar­ger story is denied the viewer — there are no clues as to the rela­ti­onships or the nar­ra­ti­ves sur­roun­ding each care­fully com­po­sed domestic inte­rior. These set­tings exude a mas­cu­line geo­me­try; care­fully com­po­sed lines and pla­nes show a hapha­zard urban collec­tion of win­dows, sto­rage shel­ves, doors, cup­boards, various sofas, mir­rors, clocks and cushions. Such tim­e­l­ess icons as win­dow, clock and mir­ror are laden with heavy sym­bo­lic over­to­nes; this ico­no­gra­phy stret­ches back into a myriad of art his­to­ri­cal refe­ren­ces from Titian, the Japa­nese Ukiyo-e school and Ver­meer, to Matisse, Munch and beyond. Far from being com­forted by tra­di­tio­nal con­tent, there is some­thing unner­ving, almost pro­vo­ca­tive, about Otzko’s art. These pri­vate spaces have been made into a voy­eu­ristic stage by the artist. We view an immen­sely pri­vate time when a semi naked woman makes her­self at home in a friend’s resi­dence. Com­ple­tely still, the cur­ves of her body con­trast or echo the enclo­sing lines of each interior

“To explore how new spaces tran­spi­res or is crea­ted bet­ween mee­ting and con­fron­ta­tion with inner and outer, lon­ging and belon­ging, inti­macy and vul­nera­bi­lity”. (Ina Otzko)

Ina Otzko’s semi naked self-portraiture impo­ses its­elf upon these inte­ri­ors. As both pho­to­gra­pher and model, she is always simul­ta­neously the sub­ject and object of her work. A sub­tle sense of absence seems to with­draw her from the visual probe of the camera. Her gaze is often direc­ted toward an inde­ter­mi­nate dis­tance outs­ide the pic­to­rial field. Visual plea­sure is not pre­sent; this semi naked woman is held behind a con­stantly shif­ting bar­rier so that the spec­ta­tor is made to feel like an intru­der. Howe­ver fami­liar these inte­ri­ors appear, the artist’s body is given a spe­ci­fic func­tion and both takes and crea­tes room. The notion of the inti­mate and pri­vate space of the indoors is played out by her pre­sence. Otzko’s posed body gives the viewer a key into a free move­ment inside each pri­vate room. The viewer’s own expe­ri­en­ces and history may then infuse these works with new infor­ma­tion whe­reby com­mu­ni­ca­tion can hap­pen bet­ween the work and the viewer. We com­pare, the­re­fore we are. As an artist and per­son Otzko can­not remain still, her noma­dic life­style has led to a series of pro­jects in various geo­gra­phic sites. But each site invol­ves a pri­mary per­so­nal invol­ve­ment, whe­reby the wan­de­rer must create her own secu­rity, her own safety, by attempt­ing to orga­nize any strands of chaos. These pho­to­gra­phed inte­ri­ors can be seen as moments of order, moments of self con­so­li­da­tion, which are the­reaf­ter clas­si­fied purely by a house num­ber and a date. In 1971 Mar­tin Hei­deg­ger famously sta­ted that “all dis­tan­ces in time and space are shrin­king”. Indeed the con­tem­porary pace of life and its infor­ma­tion flow seems to con­fine us into smal­ler seg­ments of time. There is hardly any time to brea­the deeply, let alone meditate.

Cur­ri­cu­lum Vitae

Port­fo­lio