2019
Servais Family Collection, Brussels
All the Blind Men explores the fractured nature of truth and the role of perception, media, and historical narrative in constructing our understanding of reality. This series is the culmination of an in-depth investigation into the possibilities of painting as both a medium and an ideological apparatus, reconfiguring its subjects through deconstruction, replication, and transformation. Drawing upon key historical figures and political moments from the past century, the works resonate with an unsettling relevance to contemporary political climates, challenging the viewer’s relationship to history and memory.
The title, All the Blind Men, references the ancient parable of blind men attempting to describe an elephant based only on the parts they can feel—an allegory for the dangers of limited perspective and the construction of absolute truths from partial information. This theme unfolds throughout the series, as Golkar confronts viewers with distorted, fractured images that question the reliability of our perceptions. Chairman Mao, reproduced in multiplied, mirrored fragments, evokes the ambiguity and manipulation inherent in propaganda; the Third Reich’s Minister of Propaganda is reimagined in an anamorphic painting that shifts as the viewer moves, destabilizing any fixed viewpoint; Brecht’s Mann Ist Mann is invoked through an interplay of sound, video, and painted images that unsettle the boundaries between fact and performance.
In an age where media and propaganda shape public consciousness, All the Blind Men critiques the mechanisms by which narratives are selectively constructed, reproduced, and imposed. By challenging the presumed stability of cultural and socio-economic systems, Golkar’s work compels viewers to recognize the ideological frameworks that mediate our understanding of history and contemporary politics. The series suggests that in our search for truth, we are often misled by partial perspectives, curated images, and historical distortions that reinforce power structures—inviting a deeper interrogation of the ways in which perception, ideology, and representation shape the very fabric of our reality.
2017-2019
Inkjet on vinyl
120” x 84”
If You Are Going Through Hell, Keep Going. Churchill (2017–2019) examines the construction of political persona through an ironic sequence of images that challenge Winston Churchill’s mythologized image. The triptych, printed on vinyl strips reminiscent of an industrial entryway, captures Churchill, headfirst and face up, sliding down a waterslide while vacationing in France. This casual, seemingly staged moment—requiring a film crew—contrasts sharply with his reputation as a stoic wartime leader. Danish subtitles reading, “he was the only man who was able to save the free world,” add a layer of irony, exposing the gap between reality and propaganda. The title, referencing a popular but falsely attributed Churchill quote, further underscores how easily historical figures are mythologized, prompting viewers to question the authenticity of mediated images and the narratives they construct.
2017-2019
Inkjet on vinyl
120” x 84”
2017-2019
Inkjet on vinyl
120” x 84”
Installation view
2017-2019
Inkjet on vinyl
120” x 84”
Installation view
2017-2019
Lead oil paint on canvas
84” x 124”
Mann Ist Mann engages the performative nature of power and the fluidity of identity within political frameworks. Referencing a 1899 photograph of Tsar Nicholas II in a moment of staged playfulness, the work juxtaposes this historical image with contemporary power dynamics, alluding to the theatrical strategies that define modern political authority. Through this layered invocation, Mann Ist Mann critiques the mechanisms by which ideological narratives are constructed and manipulated, prompting reflection on the role of performance in the maintenance and legitimization of power.
Detail
2019
Five channel HD video | 6m 30s
Choreography:
Emmalena Fredriksson
Dance:
Matthew Wyllie and Aiden Cass
Rehearsal is a five-channel video installation interpreting Mann ist Mann, Bertolt Brecht’s play on identity and ideological control. Featuring two contemporary dancers, the piece is set to five variations of Brecht’s original score, reimagined through collaboration with a composer and cellist. Each channel presents the dancers’ movements as iterative, mechanistic explorations of identity dissolution within authoritarian structures.
The multi-channel setup amplifies the cyclical fragmentation inherent in the performance, with each variation highlighting the fluid boundaries between autonomy and control. By framing the dance as an ongoing rehearsal, Rehearsal invites reflection on the repetitive conditioning that shapes identity under ideological influence, prompting viewers to question the tension between selfhood and conformity.
2019
5 channel HD video 9:16
6’ 30”
2017
-Lead oil on canvas
136” x 84”
-MP3 sound
20s
The Man Who Sold The World interrogates the entwined histories of propaganda and marketing through a large-scale anamorphic painting and a sound piece. The work links Edward Bernays, a pioneer of American public relations, with Joseph Goebbels, the Third Reich’s Minister of Propaganda, exploring their shared strategies of psychological influence rooted in the studies of Bernays' uncle, Sigmund Freud.
The sound component features a 20-second clip of German pilot Thea Rasche promoting self-expression in young women—an early example of Bernays' research-based advertising for William Hearst. The anamorphic portrait of Goebbels shifts with the viewer’s position, highlighting the role of perspective in shaping authority and influence. Referencing Bernays’ Propaganda (1928)—a key influence on Goebbels—the installation critiques how techniques of persuasion blur the boundaries between advertising and ideological control, inviting viewers to question the mechanics of influence shaping public consciousness.
2017-2019
Lead-base oil paint on canvas, custom-made wooden frame
40” x 46” x 4”
Amusement Park, 1926 interrogates the intersection of nostalgia and systemic violence in American history. Presented in a faint, Impressionist style, the work at first suggests a serene amusement park scene framed in a classicized colonial style. Upon closer examination, however, hooded KKK figures occupy the Ferris wheel seats, while embers smolder on the ground—a haunting allusion to racial terror. Drawing on a 1926 photograph of a KKK amusement park, the piece juxtaposes aesthetic innocence with underlying violence. The custom frame, adorned with miniature nooses, subtly references colonial iconography, encouraging viewers to confront the cultural narratives that veil historical atrocities within idyllic imagery. Amusement Park, 1926 thus compels reflection on how visual nostalgia can obscure, yet also reveal, the fraught legacies embedded in American cultural memory.
Detail
Detail