The grounds of Klaus Rinke’s Los Angeles studio overflow with an otherworldly cactus garden. The cactus—a plant firmly rooted in the horticultural zeitgeist—is a lifelong obsession of the enigmatic artist whose career as a pioneering conceptual artist spans more than 6-decades. Striking footage of the cacti garden reveals a surreal hidden geometry and illuminates the uncanny ways in which cacti and humans express themselves and coexist.
Niccolò Montanari: Initially focused on cacti’s relation to major themes in Klaus’s artwork, the film evolved to explore more universal themes. Can you elaborate on how you approached structuring the narrative to effectively convey the connection between the cacti and Klaus’s life in a larger sense, touching on themes such as aging, legacy, and mortality?
Double Solitaire: Thematically, we wanted the film to start simply, but add more complexity or depth as it unfolds. If we started making deep or especially heady claims about cacti from the beginning, we might lose the audience. So instead, early in the film, we have Klaus’s more simple observations about cacti— their relation to geometry, or as a water container—these aren’t especially complex ideas, but as the film progresses, these connections go a bit deeper—The cactus in its relation to the German soul. The cactus is a metaphor for mortality and legacy. The cactus is a symbol of a creative life force. The idea was that as the film progresses, the audience is more “warmed up” and able to follow these deeper connections.
NM: The Cactus of Klaus explores the intersection of cacti and human expression. How did you develop the creative approach to visually capture the essence of the cacti and intertwine it with Klaus Rinke’s artistic world?
DS: We tried to draw connections between the unmoving, sculptural forms of cactus and Klaus’s work as a “body artist.” In his more well-known work, he holds weird, varied sculptural poses — or contorts his body in different ways. These works reminded us how the cacti each hold a sort of unique sculptural pose as well, so we tried to visually draw those connections. We also focused on depth as well. The repetitive patterns found in cacti make them visually interesting to look at from nearly every distance. The same principle applies to the painting behind Klaus during the interview—the pattern begins to look different as we get closer and closer to it. We took this principle to an extreme with the macro shots of the cacti. We used a long probe lens to allow the camera to move through the cacti in ways that we could never actually see with our eyes
NM: Klaus Rinke’s studio provides a cinematic backdrop for the documentary. How did you go about selecting and making use of the locations, particularly the studio, to visually convey the unique atmosphere of Klaus’s artistic space?
DS: We didn’t dress the studio much because it’s already a beautiful space and we wanted to keep it authentic to Klaus. The backdrop for the interview is a painting from a series he is working on, but for now, it just lives on that wall. We liked being able to frame him amongst his current work while looking back over his career. From a visual sense, the reds/oranges of the piece provide a nice contrast between the studio and the green tones of the garden outside.
NM: You’ve incorporated archival material from Klaus’s films. How did his past work influence the visual style of the film, and how did you decide on the overall aesthetic to effectively convey the atmosphere of Klaus Rinke’s studio?
DS: We use the archival footage not only to visualize the history of Klaus’s artworks and his overall practice but more so to showcase the passage of time. We made him recreate a lot of his past body art poses so we could see the passage of time on his face/body—the young artist and the old, holding the same pose. We do this again near the end with a shot of the house from across the street. Seeing the cacti grow over the fence of his garden. Finally, the archival footage also reveals the passage of time in its quality. The grainy film and artifacts of the VHS transfer juxtaposed with the 4K digital footage of today serve to reveal this time jump in a more aesthetic sense.
NM: Sound plays a crucial role in creating the atmosphere of a documentary. Can you share insights into the sound design choices made for The Cactus of Klaus, especially considering the unique visual and thematic elements of the film?
DS: From the beginning, we knew time would be the most important aspect of the sound design. It’s always been a major theme of Klaus’s work and for decades he’s worn a clock around his neck. When you stand near him you can hear the ticking—the sound is ever present and we wanted to allude to that in the film. But beyond the actual ticking of the clock, we wanted sound to help convey the passage of time in a broader sense. We briefed our sound designer about creating sound montages—repetitive sounds paired with simple images (dripping of the hose, buzzing of the bees, whooshing of the clouds overhead) to express a longer, more cyclical passage of time.
Double Solitaire is Tony Blahd and Lydia Fine, Brooklyn-based creatives working across, film, theater, advertising, animation, and design. Their work has screened at festivals such as South by Southwest, Tribeca, and Slamdance.
Klaus Rinke (b. 1939) has worked in performance, photography, sculpture, and painting throughout a 60-year-long career. He has had solo shows at museums around the world with work in the permanent collections of MoMA, The Tate, and Le Centre Pompidou. He was a central figure in the Dusseldorf scene alongside artists like Joseph Beuys, Gerhard Richter, and Anselm Keifer. He was a professor at the Kunstakademie Düsseldorf for more than 3 decades his retirement in 2004 was covered by the Times. He now lives and works between Austria and Venice, CA.