Jan Davidsz de Heem (* April 1606 in Utrecht; †1683 oder/or 1684 in Antwerpen)
Seduction & Resistance.
Jakob Buchner A / Mary-Audrey Ramirez LUX (artist in residence)
Curator: Irmi Horn
Opening speaker: Art historian Dr.in Tanja Gurke
Duration of the exhibition: until 12. July
Seduction and Resistance – Strategies of Survival
Seduction is not limited to sensual or culinary pleasures. It works on a deeper level: it can shake our convictions, weaken our will, and guide our actions. Human beings have always striven for more—for knowledge, meaning, and orientation. Rarely are they content with what already exists.
Where needs remain unfulfilled, however, susceptibility to seduction grows. In such moments, simple answers appear attractive, alternative interpretations plausible, political promises alluring. Art has repeatedly taken up and made visible this dynamic over the centuries.
Already in Christian iconography, the Fall of Man stands for the consequential power of seduction: the promise of knowledge leads to the loss of innocence. In ancient mythology, the Sirens embody that seductive voice which robs one of orientation and leads to ruin.
In Early Modern art, seduction often appears in an ambivalent guise: figures such as Judith use beauty and proximity as means to overcome violence and oppression. Seduction here becomes a conscious strategy—morally complex and staged with tension.
With modernity, the political dimension increasingly comes into focus. Artists such as Francisco de Goya expose in their prints humanity’s susceptibility to superstition, power, and fear. In the twentieth century, works of political art—such as John Heartfield’s photomontages—make visible how ideology, propaganda, and simple images can seduce and manipulate the masses.
Opposed to seduction is resistance. This, too, is a recurring motif in art: as an act of conscience, as doubt, as open defiance. Resistance can express itself quietly or loudly, individually or collectively, symbolically or concretely.
To understand the temptations of our present and the necessity of resistance, a look into history—and into its images—is indispensable.
For centuries, the rose has been regarded as a symbol of seduction. Its color, form, and fragrance appeal to the senses and attract. At the same time, it sets boundaries: thorns protect it from being eaten and from careless grasping. Within it, a fundamental principle is condensed that extends far beyond the rose itself.
Plants are not passive beings. They possess highly developed strategies of survival based on attraction and defense. Colors, scents, nectar, or forms serve seduction—they lure pollinators and ensure reproduction and dispersal. At the same time, plants develop protective mechanisms: thorns, poisons, bitter substances, or hard surfaces deny access and defend life itself.
This dual strategy—seduction and refusal—has always found resonance in art. Flower still lifes, botanical studies, and symbolically charged representations show plants not merely as decorative motifs, but as actors in a finely balanced interplay between attraction and resistance. The rose thus becomes a pars pro toto: an image of a nature that both invites and withdraws.
Women artists have depicted these tensions with particular sensitivity.
Artemisia Gentileschi shows in her paintings women who act with self-determination, strength, and often resistance—such as Judith overpowering Holofernes, or Susanna defending herself in Susanna and the Elders.
Rachel Ruysch, a master of Baroque flower still lifes, stages plants in their beauty and vulnerability, with fine details of blossoms and thorns that simultaneously entice and repel. In contemporary art, Olafur Eliasson investigates the relationship between nature, perception, and experiences of boundaries, while Kara Walker symbolically plays with motifs of beauty and threat. She confronts her viewers with images that attract and at the same time repel—similar to a familiar motif that, upon closer inspection, loses its beauty and produces unease. In this sense, she exposes the seduction of seemingly harmless narratives and lays bare the underlying power structures.
Jennifer Wen Ma (born 1973 in Beijing, lives and works between New York and Beijing) uses plants as both material and metaphor. She is particularly known for works in which she covers living plants with Chinese ink—an organic, plant-based medium—thus transforming them into living sculptures and interactive landscapes. In her installation Hanging Garden in Ink (2012), around 1,500 living plants were dyed black with Chinese ink and suspended in the exhibition space. The work plays with the contrast between life and stasis: the plants continue to grow, producing green buds that emerge from the black ink, thereby making visible the resilience and endurance of life.
Plants initially become visible through their form, color, and presence and draw attention to themselves—especially as they create a kind of garden image within the space that feels natural, familiar, and sensual. Despite being slowed by the ink, the plants continue to grow and break forth anew. This visible—almost combative—growth can be read as a metaphor for the will to survive, persistence, and the resilience of life.
In a broader sense, these botanical strategies also reflect human experiences. Seduction and resistance, desire and boundary, proximity and distance are not solely cultural or political phenomena—they are deeply rooted in the mechanisms of life itself.
Viewing plants thus opens up a new perspective: seduction no longer appears merely as a moral temptation, but as an elemental force of survival. Resistance, in turn, becomes a necessary condition of self-assertion. Together, the two form a balance that connects nature, art, and society.