In her exhibition Sample Question at Kunstverein Hamburg, Nina Porter twists the exhibition title’s pun into a sensory experience of images, objects, and energy. The questions sampled in her exhibition interrogate the used media and the interpretative potential of art itself.

silk and soy, 2026 is one of five 100 x 120 cm photographs in Porter's exhibition, all of which portray the same object in a similar disguise. A daydreaming child could mistake the objects photographed by Porter for a comically electrified robot wearing a wig made of natural fibres. In fact, these objects aren't all that far removed from this imaginative curiosity. What she actually photographed is a Van de Graaff generator, loaded with threads, fur and hair. Its electrostatic charge frays the fibres out into the image's blank space. Invented in 1929 by American physicist Robert J. Van de Graaff, the device is famous for its use in edutainment experiments explaining physics in science museums or on TV shows. Typically held with one hand, its metal globe releases static electricity through its shiny surface, making the holder's hair stand.

Skipping the human hand and body as a conductor, in Porter’s photographs various substitutes for the hair are placed directly on top of the electrified globe using physics principles to make the fibres jump. What we see is a moment of immediate flow of energy, of power, and of movement. The images present a staged combination of objects co-existing in the same context of science entertainment, but their relation is altered by substitution, resulting in a state of quirky abstraction. What remains  salient is the accentuation of static energy that has been transformed into pictorial matter. As part of the 9th Triennial of Photography Hamburg, the exhibition operates in the frame of reference of photography and uses the medium as a conceptual playground. The exhibition’s title probes photography itself, testing the medium's expectations, while the images serve as samples of its full complexity.

Two features make the photographs more than just images of the installed objects. Firstly, all photographs share an unidentifiable black shadow at the bottom, as though something had accidentally covered parts of the camera’s lens. Additionally, the shiny surface of the generator’s globe reflects the surroundings of the shoot. The reflection shows what appear to be printed versions of previously taken photographs of the object, a figure recognisable as the photographer itself, as well as the windows, balcony and heating system of Städelschule's seminar room. This location is identifiable only to those familiar with the space, such as Porter, who graduated from the school this year. The obstruction of the lens and the reflection mould the images into photographic products bearing traces of the artist’s hand. What at first seems to be solely emblematic images of something caught between process and object, upon closer inspection, bears the crust of photography as a craft.

Between the walls holding the five framed photographs, a constellation of six self-contained installations spreads across the floor. Each consists of plasterboard panels, stage-like pedestals, grey bricks of various dimensions arranged on, under, or beside them, the wooden shipping crates of the bricks, and a pair of weathered wooden stools. Most prominent are the bricks themselves, clustered with an arbitrariness so consistent it starts to look intentional. The exhibition text and the title of the mixed-media installations – Ash (or ash to the plastic number), 2026 – reveal the material of the bricks to be compressed ash, which was compiled and shipped to the artist by voluntary contributors. The grey bricks, the off-white plasterboard panels and pedestals create a muted colour palette, broken only by the glossy black and dark blue shipping crates used to transport the ash bricks. Leaving these crates as part of the arrangement keeps the process itself on view, much like the traces left behind in the photographs. You can even still read the names of the people Porter asked to provide the ash from their fireplaces on some of the lids.

Resembling abstract versions of brutalist Lego bricks or Apple Maps' 3D mode, the brick clusters appear to offer points of reference only to then evade any substantial interpretation. Using an aesthetic strategy that feels close to being poetic, atmospheric, or gestural the sum of all instances of Ash (or ash to the plastic number), 2026 holds the potential for openness. In an artist statement accompanying her exhibition, Porter mentions 'blind spots' as something that she wants to 'hold space' for. These blind spots are embedded throughout the exhibition. They emerge either, more literally, as the dark marks on the photographs, or, more obscurely, in the indeterminacy of the relation- and positioning-based material constellations.

In combination, the two groups of works find a shared conceptual thread in the materialization and visualization of energy: in the exhibition text described as a 'full inversion of force'. The ash of the bricks – residue of fire, the ultimate power – is then compressed under heavy force, standing in opposition to the static electricity that flows through the fibres, making an otherwise invisible energy perceivable. What may feel more like cramping elusive works of art into a mutual box of interpretation could also release the tension of their openness.

In continuation of the diversification of media, a third element of the exhibition comprises a film programme, which screens five different film works by various artists on selected days throughout the exhibition. Announced not as evening events but also not as a constant part of the show, each film becomes part of it only to a limited time and crowd. Described as literal 'sample questions', the screenings extend the sample modality of the exhibition on another level. Photography, object-based installation and film form a coherent yet indeterminate whole across different timelines and instances of physical presence. 

The questions asked in this exhibition are not demanding answers or working towards resolution. You will miss the explanations in the same way that you will miss some of the films. The inability to fully fill these blind spots feels strongly relieving. The exhibition never fully discloses itself; its circuit remains open, and its power lies in the unresolved current that keeps moving. The images and objects on display contain this current of energy in their process of becoming. Porter releases them like an electric shock.

Nina Porter, Sample Question at Kunstverein in Hamburg is open from 05.06.26 – 22.09.26

Curated by Sarah Messerschmidt

https://www.kunstverein.de/exhibitions/sample-question