For contemporary art enthusiasts this scene is all too common. We are no longer shocked at the pile of rubble in the middle of a white-walled room; in fact we have grown quite accustomed to visiting these exhibits.

The work of Julio Le Parc on view at the Palais de Tokyo is nothing like this. Part of the exhibit Soleil Froid (Cold Sun), this grand assemblage of painting, sculpture and interactive multimedia by the Argentinian optical artist is a whimsical masterpiece. The show is a breath of fresh air and a treat to the senses. We enter the space through a maze of full length mirrors that hang from the ceiling and move with us as we make our way inside. From this entrance to the end, our sights are stimulated with color, pattern, texture, light, movement and sound. Some works are familiar such as Le Parc’s well-known tromp d’oeil black and white paintings of geometric shapes and lines, landmark pieces from the 1950s until today. The space is experimentally curated in an active and participatory way with a focus on the effects of the aesthetic. Viewers lay on a sofa to observe the light installation on the ceiling; some works respond to our movement as we approach them, and the final room invites us to touch, play and even box with Le Parc’s punching bags depicting societal caricatures.

The exhibit is not about the degradation of the planet nor the state of global politics. The black and white imagery is not a commentary on racial tension; it is just aesthetically interesting. One does not get the feeling that we should stare at Le Parc’s mirrors and search deep within ourselves, instead we are invited to play. Le Parc invites us to engage with what is directly in front of us, to actively notice our physical reactions to the work. While Le Parc himself has always been an activist of sorts and we do find some political references, they are not laden with heavy innuendo. Of course each viewer will receive the work differently, but they are most likely to walk away from this brilliant art-viewing experience elated and with a renewed appreciation for looking.

Curated by Jens Hoffmann, Fontaine produced the work during her residency in San Francisco as part of the Capp Street Project, the first residency program created in the United States dedicated only to the making of art installations. The work hangs at the Wattis space on Kansas Street in Potrero Hill.

The new expansive Wattis gallery space has been congested by Fontaine’s confrontational installation composed of transparent plastic trash bags filled with thousands of aluminum cans hanging from the ceiling. Every square inch of the ceiling in the main space is covered by these hanging bags of colorful garbage. Suspended overhead, the objects are oppressive and heavy with connotation. The soda pop and beer cans are, of course, familiar to us. They are our everyday products, our recycling taken out to the streets. In an urban setting like San Francisco, the cans are associated with the homeless and unemployed who roam the city filling bags like these for the redemption price of aluminum. The cans represent our overuse, our consumerism, our destruction of the planet. While these weighty, dangling themes are heavy with innuendo, I can’t help but add that we are perhaps excessively familiar with them.

Though it may be true that the neo-conceptual and post-modern are bound to repeat themes from the spectrum of art history, this does not call for monotony. Perhaps it is true that nothing wholly novel can be created in Art today. Fontaine is among many contemporary artists who annunciate their inspiration and even direct emulation from past artists as part of their own artistic process. This method of idea-recycling is often interesting and novel in itself, however the work by Fontaine feels restricted and lacking in creativity. As contemporary art enthusiasts, we have seen trash displayed in a way that makes it aesthetically pleasing and/or thought provoking. Japanese artist “Mr.,” showcased piles of trash in a Chelesa gallery in 2012, Lara Favaretto used discarded found objects in her Monumentary Monument at documenta (13), New York City even has a museum of trash.

In the center of the gallery, Fontaine has built an aluminum smelter reminiscent of Marcel Duchamp’s Twelve Hundred Coal Bags Suspended from the Ceiling Over a Stove (1938). The connection between the famous ready-made antecessor and the “trash as art” theme is already made clear. I suspect, Marcel Duchamp would have hoped for more progress by now.

It is important for San Francisco to be exposed to artwork and artists like this. Fontaine is interested in the object, working with it to exhaustion: creating, discarding, recycling, and reconstituting. While it is certainly not novel, this principle here is interesting and perhaps telling of the route in contemporary art. If we have surrendered ourselves to the idea of avant-garde innovation, then perhaps this is our new artistic reality: trash bags hanging from the ceiling. The point we are trying to get across as artists may still be avant-garde, and in so express some personal novelties. Perhaps these are our new materials: we have replaced our oils for aluminum cans.

Ooga Booga’s video book is narrated by the bookstore’s founder, and features a visual page-turner filmed in a simple deadpan format. For this project, Ooga Booga and the Kadist Art Foundation have come together in their support for arts publishing and cultural collaboration. This specific book project functions in tandem with various Kadist programs such as its artist/writer residencies, and the Reading Shop and Reading Room, which features various international publications. Look out for more video books by Kadist Art Foundation in their new and ongoing project.

Ooga Booga / Temporary Satellite at Kadist SF from Kadist San Francisco on Vimeo.

After meeting at dOCUMENTA (13), Longe and I spoke about his experiences in Kassel working with an array of participating artists, artistic director Carolyn Christov-Bakargiev, and of his overall opinions on the 100-day exhibition.

You originally came from San Francisco to Kassel with the intention just to visit the dOCUMENTA (13), what was your plan and how did it change?

Yes, I really like Germany. I came to here to research schools and visit friends. I had been in Frankfurt and Cologne and a few other cities before coming to Kassel. There is absolutely no way I could come to Europe in 2012 and miss dOCUMENTA(13). It is one of the most important and large scale exhibitions of its kind and this year it is massive. I planned to come for 4 days. On the the third day I was invited to a BBQ at the Huguenot Haus (a live-in project by Theaster Gates and many other collaborators). I almost didn’t go as I felt funny attending alone. Last minute I decided to go. I instantly met three nice students from Mainz who said that Gareth Moore’s project could really use a hand. I just went there and started. I planned 2 weeks and it quickly became 50 days! I have met so many people, this has been one of the best experiences of my life. Also seeing an exhibition like this from the inside and not having to rush fully changes the experience.

12 Ballads for the Huguenot House, Theaster Gates

Which dOCUMENTA(13) artists have you interacted with and/or worked for?

I helped build a small one room house for Gareth Moore’s main assistant, Brodie Kitchen. I’ve been helping out with general things through my stay. Gareth has a large plot in the Karlsaue Park. He built a house there and has been living in it for almost 2 years. The plot now includes many structures and shrines all made from found material. To many people’s surprise Gareth is a very clean cut and sharp fellow. He is such a nice person and really respectful to everyone who helped on the project. I have also been helping on Pedro Reyes‘s project.  Stuart Ringholt is just wonderful, Andrea Büttner is also very personable and so smart, as are Cevdet Erec, Theaster Gates, Jan Verwoert, Tue Greenfort–every artist I have met has been so humble and kind.

Sanatorium, Pedro Reyes

What have your experiences been like working with Pedro Reyes at the Sanatorium? What is the context for his project?

I started as an assistant for this piece about one month ago working mostly with a wonderful group of students from an academy in Geneva. I haven’t interacted with Pedro in person, just via Skype. He is a really nice guy. The piece is a Sanatorium offering what he calls “cures for urban illnesses.” While I can be skeptical of artists who think they can do something like this, I do think this project is very interesting. It is a participatory experience in which my friends and I act as therapists and engage with the viewers by doing a series of potentially therapeutic activities. The work is something between art, a game, and therapy, mostly playful but super intense at times. There are eight therapies offered and we all take turns doing them with people. I think there are a few really good ones and some not so good. This piece was first shown or performed at the Guggenheim in New York. I think it is much different here with an average of 7,000 viewers per day coming to see documenta. There has been some serious struggle with this project but, after all it has been successful.

What is the general make up of the artist assistants at dOCUMENTA(13)? 

There are plenty of paid assistants and dancers and facilitators who have been working on the exhibition for years. Most of the large scale participatory pieces, educational group pieces, ongoing performance series, and live-in sites have groups of assistants who are from art schools all over Europe. It is part of what Carolyn (Christov-Bakargiev) calls the Maybe Education Program. Everyone is sooo great. Spending a condensed amount of time in such close quarters with young artists and peers from all over the world has been unbelievable. The exchange of ideas and critical thought is impressive, not to mention the social aspect, cooking, and dancing. The experience has brought so many diverse people together.

How were your overall impressions of the exhibitions? Do you have a favorite work?

My impressions are biased. Living here has changed everything; I have an unlimited pass, I have had plenty of time to see the show and to return to my favorite pieces. I think it is impossible to choose favorites, the show is too expansive. Being here feels like a gift or something. In general I find it awe-inspiring. It is so diverse, housing every kind of art you could imagine. Clean formal works, totally funky stuff, highly conceptual, huge all-encompassing installations, tons of outdoor sculpture, writing, film, political work, participatory works, and pieces that totally blur the line between art and life so far that even I question whether or not it is art. I would say documenta entirely challenged and changed my formerly narrow definition of contemporary art. It was Carolyn’s intention to include things that aren’t really claiming to be art (for instance the research and technological devices of quantum physicist (Anton Zeilinger) and through this context everything can be totally reconsidered.

Have you had any interactions directly with Carolyn? 

Yes I have met her twice. In general I like her. I pet her dog. I can’t help but be impressed and humored by her whole persona. She is such a diva. I think all of her knowledge resides in her large tightly-curled shiny hair. Sometimes when she speaks she can be quite direct and other times she will be so rude and weird. You will see her in a lecture/discussion and she will be texting and interjecting comments that are highly generalized. I think she is totally acting all the time. One-on-one she is really nice, but I think she has strange social skills. Chus Martinez (her second-in-command) is more impressive. She is quite smart and pulls immense knowledge from her brain with ease. She also has a great sense of humor. Once she spoke with six of my friends and I for almost an hour telling us exactly what she saw to be happening in the Arts and describing every aspect, trend, collectors curatorial practice, the market etc. At one point she referred to Europe as “a festival of cynicism.”

Artistic Director Carolyn Christov-Bakargiev

What is your general feeling regarding Carolyn’s concept or “non-concept?”

At first I was quite unsure about the language describing the show. The theme is simultaneously a total cop-out and totally on point. It is easy to arrive at the idea that art is about everything and nothing. By nature, art is contradictory and often a dialectic; it seems so obvious. When you get into what Chus and Carolyn are doing, you begin to understand how ambitious the show is. It is a show that illustrates art itself in all forms. It operates as a meta or micro version of the world in a way just giving in to the natural phenomenon of disorder and struggle. There are many terms used that I disagree with. There are also many very concrete sub themes like destruction and recreation. Chus explains the “non-concept” in a way that really makes sense. It is actually meant as a critique of the entire curatorial method that has dominated the last few decades. She notes that curators produce theory laden shows. Her stance is, how can one accurately curate a show around a theory when, 1 – the art is not yet in the space and 2 – art is entirely subjective. The artwork itself is a theory, therefore theory should not be applied to it and it totally limits the work if the viewer sees it through the curators chosen theme. This is all my interpretation, but I think that while a show like this can’t fully do what it claims, Chus and Carolyn are challenging the institutions of contemporary art.

Several of the sectors of dOCUMENTA(13) experienced strikes by the workers. What brought on these frustrations or issues among the artist assistants?

A show of this scale breeds frustration and disorganization. It would have been easy to select less artists and book less programing. I truly believe Carolyn wanted the show to function this way. I think it was totally her intention to lay the show out in confusing way and to create stress; it is all part of the exhibition. She even said she likes that nobody can see everything. Of course documenta went over budget so in the case of the press office, 10 or more long-term employees were fired with no notice and the whole team went on strike. At the Sanatorium it was a combination of dealing with the viewing public that are often quite rude, a poorly structured schedule, plus the fact that many students were upset about working without pay (I didn’t really identify with that as we had agreed to work for free). We had a system which was not working. The project became like a Mcdonald’s, people just selecting off a menu, and us being too rushed to really get in depth with them. Many assistants were frustrated and left. It got hectic. Pedro never came for the second half and his lack of presence made everyone feel less connected to the project. One day, Carolyn came by and spoke with us. She was very nice. What she said shows her interest in stirring things up. She told us, “If you are unhappy, go on strike.” Then we did, although not everyone agreed and several people lost interest. In the end it brought us more together. It even brought us together with administrate staff.

Your newest plan is to stick around Kassel and continue to create work, what is it about this town that you find inspiring and conducive to your development as an artist?

Well I wouldn’t say it is the art scene. As far as I can tell the only art scene is the Kunsthochschule  (art school). I will be hanging out there for sure. Kassel is really cheap. I have access to the documenta Archive, which is incredible. From Kassel it is easy to get to many other cities, plus things are really quiet after documenta and I will be able to get some artwork done. It will be a good transition place.

What direction do you see your work taking? Are you drawing inspiration from the themes of documenta?

I can’t say specifically how documenta has inspired me but I think the experience changed my life. I am inspired on so many levels. Hanging out with all these young artists has been great. I am going to start a project with a Swiss friend I met named Vianney Fivel and it will be much more performative that any of my work has been. I think the people back home will just have to see what happens. I will be challenging myself to do some really different things! But first, I will start with a series of drawings that will be quite simple and a bit nonsensical.

Gerhard's Müller Behind Plastic, Graphite on paper, mounted on panel, Hunter Longe

Song Dong’s Doing Nothing Garden. SONG DONG: ‘I asked what Christov-Bakargiev’s concept was, and she said, ‘I have no concept,’ I said, ‘Great,’ if no concept is your concept I will do nothing.’

A “Doing Nothing Garden” where grass grows freely over a pile of waste, an encased letter from artist Kai Althoff declaring why he will not be participating in the exhibition, and Ryan Gander’s invisible artwork, a breeze coming through an empty room.  The favored term of the dOCUMENTA (13) is “non-concept.” Accompanied by jargon such as “non-existing existence” and an education program named “Maybe Education,” the term “non-concept” has been subject to both acclaim and criticism. At a Berlin press conference in 2010 the exhibition directors announced that “dOCUMENTA (13) does not follow a single, overall concept but engages in conducting, and choreographing manifold materials, methods, and knowledges.” When the artistic director Carolyn Christov-Bakargiev is asked to define her concept, she replies that she does not have one. While this may seem radical to some, it has become clear over the duration of the exhibition that a non-concept is still a concept.

While many of the contemporary art world’s concerns are inextricably linked, a production such as the dOCUMENTA (13) is no true laissez-faire curating; there is a definite choreography to what Christov-Bakargiev has called a “frenetic dance.” The frenetic nature of the exhibition is a part of the general organization and framework. Many of the exhibited works were commissioned and in so share the recurring themes such as the focus on destruction and renewal, the incorporation of Afghanistan, or the various works dealing with the tri-fold history of nearby Breitenau.

Fridericianum visitor feels the breeze of Ryan Gander’s I Need Some Meaning I Can Memorize ‘The Invisible Pull’

Beyond the shared sensibility of the work itself, one of the cornerstones to the “non-concept,” is the element of confusion. Here is a subject I can speak to with personal experience as an employee of the Press Center. While not initially clear, it did not take long to realize that the confusion was intentional. The first few weeks surrounding the opening were chaos and the rest has been a type of accustomed confusion, leaving me to suspect the labyrinth to be calculated. When asked by people of the press for more information on the work of Tino Sehgal, I stood a bit helpless. Can’t find him in the guidebook? No, because unfortunately the artist removed himself from it. Performance artist Sehgal wishes for nothing but the personal memory of his work to remain.

Sam Durant’s Scaffold

In the beginning weeks after continuous complaints of poor signage and even misinformation, I couldn’t help but wonder if this too was part of a ploy to maintain a degree of disorientation. I felt as if somewhere Christov-Bakargiev was scoffing at the idea of visitors attempting to control the way in which they would encounter the art. It must be said that attitude played an important role here- the more open the visitor, the more enjoyable the experience. Artist assistants told me of similar happenings working on-site with the art. As hundreds of thousands of visitors have been pouring into Kassel, lines have been amassing making some performance and interactive works difficult to accommodate. When visitors of Pedro Reyes’ Sanatorium were not able to book appointments, the assistants took the liberty of passing on what they had heard from Christov-Bakargiev: she doesn’t want them to see everything. One can imagine the reception of this response from visitors attempting to see the documenta in a single weekend.

Emerging from and mingling with the concept of “non-concept,” is the appropriate theme of skepticism. Christov-Bakargiev encourages us all to be skeptical of her, the art, the experience at dOCUMENTA(13), as well as to be skeptical of what we think we know. The curator describes approaching one exhibit with particular skepticism. Located in the first floor of the Fridericianum is what she calls “The Brain.” This collection of works contemporary and modern make up, writes Christov-Bakargiev, a “puzzle,” a “riddle,” an “embodied non-concept.” The collection holds works by Sam Durant, Giuseppe Penone, Judith Hopf, and Giorgio Morandi. “The Brain” is a collection of highly diverse objects; collected by artists or collected in our memory, it informs our repertoire and in so the way in which we may view the rest of the exhibit.

A House in Karlsaue Park

While many of the “frenetic” tactics of the artistic director and dOCUMENTA (13) have indeed been approached with skepticism and criticism, it must be said that beautiful things can come from confusion. Without a (good) map, we may stumble upon the sound installation forest of Janet Cardiff  and Georges B. Miller, take a detour across Christian Philipp Müller’s Swiss Chard Ferry, or with some flexibility, land an appointment at the Sanatorium of Pedro Reyes. Letting go and embracing the “non-concept”, we may find that getting put off-kilter is the best way to understand contemporary art.

Geoffrey Farmer, Leaves of Grass. Neue Galerie.

Living and working in Kassel during the dOCUMENTA (13) I have been in no rush to see all of the works. My abundance of time lends itself to much alleviation when considering the daunting map of exhibitions and thick program book. I have found the installations, sculptures, and ongoing performances to become part of my daily life. Each morning on my walk to work, I pass at least several art houses in Karlsaue park, the arte povera tree of Giuseppe Penone, Song Dong’s Doing Nothing Garden, and Massimo Bartolini’s Untitled (Wave). On a rainy day the tram takes me past the Neue Galerie and the Weinberg bunkers where visitors approach the hill armed with umbrellas and hard-hats. The works are becoming more and more familiar, exposing personalities and revealing new layers over time.

In a situation such as this, it is interesting to find which works call for a second, third, or tenth look. Aside from the public works, I have repeatedly found myself at the Neue Galerie. Many of the works of the dOCUMENTA (13) are housed in historical spaces reconstituted for the exhibition of contemporary art. The Neue Galerie was originally constructed as a museum for the Old Masters in the late 19^th century. After the destruction of World War II, the museum lost much of its collection and was closed until 1976. The space was reengineered with the intent to house Modern Masters, such as the German Expressionists, along with Romantic and Impressionist painting. The Neue Galerie underwent a major renovation in 2011 and is perfectly suited to showcase the contemporary works of dOCUMENTA (13).

Among the highlights at this particular venue is Leaves of Grass, the compelling sculptural collage of Geoffrey Farmer. I am consistently drawn to revisit the work; it refuses to deny intrigue to myself and to visitors who brave the line for a closer look. Composed of LIFE Magazine cut-outs from 1935 through 1985, the work extends for 124 feet and is an immaculate visual timeline, a jungle of images spanning all realms of popular culture. In the work we recognize politicians, celebrities, advertisements, and products, the layers and stories of American identity and popular world history.

Geoffrey Farmer, “Leaves of Grass”

Based in Vancouver, Geoffrey Farmer is acclaimed for his sculptural collages as well as theatrical narrative works. Leaves of Grass is the completing piece to his trilogy of works in which he combines fragments from magazines, books, and pamphlets to comment on the roll of photography in history recording. While the general narrative of Leaves of Grass is familiar, each viewer may read the work differently, being drawn to unlike characters and evoked memories. Perhaps it is the nostalgia that keeps bringing me back, maybe it’s the well-designed space and natural lighting, but it is undeniable that Farmer’s intricate work beckons time, contemplation, and close observation.

Film has been a participatory medium at the documenta since its beginning in 1955. As contemporary art enthusiasts and gallery-visitors we are likely to be accustomed to pausing only a few minutes for films. With so much art to see, it is difficult to justify the 20 minutes or more of some films. This is not the case for the 31.49 minutes of Wael Shawky’s Cabaret Crusades. Located in the basement of the Neue Galerie, this work is a must-see and is unlikely to put up a fight with a viewer’s attention span. Shawky’s work is a historical chronicle of the medieval Crusades and based on the 1983 book The Crusades through Arab Eyes by Lebanese author Amin Maalouf. 200-year-old marionettes act out the plot. Accompanied by brief and direct dialogue, it is the truly emotive faces of the bouncing puppets that provide animation for the film. The narrative is set against stunning sets, which paired with the expressive puppets create an aesthetically irresistible experience. Shawky is known for his work that involves dissection and reenactment of historic moments through child actors, puppets, and digital animation to remove esoteric lenses and interact directly with history.

Wael Shawky, “Cabaret Crusades”

Back upstairs are the hauntingly beautiful photographs by South African photographer Zanele Muholi. Through a series of portraits entitled Faces and Phases, Muholi describes the homosexual and queer community in South Africa. Through what the artist calls “visual activism,” these direct and intense black and white photographs tell the stories of different characters within the community: “athletes, cultural activists, dancers, filmmakers, writers, human rights and gender activists, mothers, lovers…” The photographs are accompanied by a film that delves into the lives of these women and transmen on an individual and community basis.

Zanele Muholi, Faces and Phases.

The works of dOCUMENTA (13) concentrate on very real subject matter. Alternating from previous documentas in which fantasy and elusive ideas were more pronounced, these works seem to engage directly with history and documentation in order to comment on and understand the human condition.

Song Dong, "Doing Nothing Garden"

Working in the press office of the dOCUMENTA (13) in Kassel, Germany, I have been confronted with media representatives from all over the world in all matter of sorts. Their attitudes have varied from excited enthusiasm during the preview days to defeated exhaustion after hours and miles of contemporary art navigation. It must be said, these nearly 3,000 journalists are troopers. They often come misdirected with maps and muddy shoes having traversed the city in attempts to see the of art dOCUMENTA (13) in a short amount of time. They often come asking for tips. I am asked what to see when one only has two days or two hours, how best to route one’s way through the exhibitions, or most interestingly common, has been the question of where to go to ascertain a good mood.

Director Carolyn Christov-Bakargiev gave the dOCUMENTA (13) the theme of “Collapse and Recovery,” and the truth is, it’s an exhausting one to take in. While many of the exhibits are inspiring in their existential explorations, let’s face it: contemporary art can be depressing. When facing topics of mankind’s disconnectedness, ego and destruction, war and terror, human suffering and loss, we can find ourselves feeling defeated. Along with recommendations for gelato and bratwurst, I have been suggesting a walk through Karlsaue Park.

Christian Phillip Müller, “Swiss Chard Ferry (The Russians aren’t going to make it across the Fulda anymore)"

A sprawling expanse of lush green parted by still canals and tranquil streams, ornamented with classical temples and picturesque bridges, the Karlsaue was originally intended as a pleasure garden.  The 16th century park extends for 17 miles and for the 100 days of dOCUMENTA (13), it is a main venue for the exhibitions. Artists have created public sculptures, gardens, sound installations, and interactive mixed media works. As it is described in the guidebook, the park is home to: “a number of detached small houses containing artistic projects, the Grimm brothers’ tales, aesthetics, and politics, and how to be together separately.” While the subject matter addressed in the works of Karlsaue is not always breezy, it focuses perhaps on the “Recovery” aspect of Christov Bakargiev’s theme, and the environment is breathtaking.

Massimo Bartolini, "Untitled (Wave)"

One might begin a Karlsaue tour at the baroque Orangerie, to view the work of Jeronimo Voss, Eternity through the Stars. Voss’ installation is composed of two parts, one at the planetarium and one in the Cabinet of Astronomy and Physics of the Orangerie. The artist works with light, projection, image, and text in dealing with astronomical processes to document history. From the steps of the Orangerie, one looks onto a green expanse of park and is confronted with the work of Italian artist Massimo Bartolini as well Chinese artist Song Dong’s hard-to-miss creation. Bartolini’s Untitled (Wave), is a minimalist construction of stainless steel, engine, water, and barley: a rectangular pond of water in constant wave-like motion. Bartolini is known for his interest in combining organic with man-made materials, bringing the viewer to observe mechanical constructions in natural environments. Song Dong has also added to the visual landscape of the park with his Doing Nothing Garden, which essentially is an accumulation of organic material and rubble: waste. Aside from being a 20 feet tall mound surrounded by red tubing and dotted by neon Chinese characters that read, “Doing” and “Nothing,” the project fits in with the natural environment. Growing native grasses and flowers, the garden is integrated; it is a thriving organism and it is an artificial landscape, beckoning the question- can doing nothing lead to creating something?

Julieta Aranda and Anton Vidokle, "Time/Bank"

As a recommendation for maneuvering the park’s exhibits, I would urge visitors to regard their maps as an afterthought. Much more intriguing (and perhaps appropriate to Christov-Bakargiev’s concept of “non-concept”), is serendipitously happening upon artwork in Karlsaue. Rather than plotting an exact course, how evocative to stumble upon the sound installation, Forest (for a thousand years) of Janet Cardiff and George Bures Miller in a clearing in the woods or to come across Julieta Aranda and Anton Vidokle’s Time/Bank in a small wooden house, a bank that stores and exchanges time as a form of currency. On the journey, the visitor may find themselves traversing time and place through encounters with a tent of “women of the Western Sahara” as they cook couscous and make tea, the project of American artist Robin Kahn. Along the way, walking across Christian Philipp Müller’s floating garden one may pick and taste swiss chard on a canal in platoons from the 1950’s.

The 52 Karlsaue exhibitions relate to and use their environment, making for an experience in which qualities of art and site are indistinguishable. The combination of natural sound and light in the park with created audio and visual projections, organic matter with mediated material, is fantastic.

The exhibitions outside of the park, located in venues such the Neue Galerie, the Friedericianum, and the Documenta Halle, are not to be missed. Performances are taking place throughout the 100 days in various locations throughout Kassel; from morning until night there will never be a shortage of art to be seen.  While it is true that contemporary art is not always a walk in the park, dOCUMENTA (13) is equipped with the perfect balancing venue for a break and sensual encounter in its Karlsaue.