Galerie Peter Kilchmann is pleased to conclude the exhibition year at its premises on Zahnradstrasse with the group exhibition Skulptur heute (sculpture today). Contributions from the following artists are on display: Francis Alÿs, Maja Bajević, Vlassis Caniaris, Los Carpinteros, Andriu Deplazes, Willy Doherty, Valérie Favre, Christoph Hänsli, Leiko Ikemura, Zilla Leutenegger, Jorge Macchi, Shirana Shahbazi, Tobias Spichtig, Didier William, Artur Żmijewski.

The exhibition opens with the new video installation Lavabobo (2025) by Zilla Leutenegger (b. 1968 in Zurich; lives and works in Zurich and Soazza). Here, the video is only a fleeting moment—the focus lies on the sculptural presence of the work. On the wall, a grid of black lines on white paper can be seen, reminiscent of tiles, between which simple kitchen utensils are suggested. A small ceramic sink is mounted beneath, its hose continually releasing projected water droplets. From fragments of the everyday life, Zilla creates spaces out of memory. Lines, light, and materiality intersect: the drawing extends into the space, and the video becomes physically tangible. This generates a condensation in which time and perception merge—a subtle, playful shift of reality.

Vlassis Caniaris’ (1928–2011) Observer (1980), stands unobtrusively in the corner, hands in his pockets and feet crossed, watching with an air of resignation. Characteristic of Caniaris’ practice, the figure is composed of a delicate metal-wire armature covered with plaster, fabric, and worn clothing. The work alludes to the moment in Greece when the military dictatorship collapsed in 1974 and the artist returned to the country. He soon had to realize, however, with profound disillusionment, that grievances such as corruption persisted. With Observer, the artist created an interaction in which the sculpture and the audience alternately assume the roles of observer and observed.

Leiko Ikemura (born in Tsu, Mie Prefecture, Japan; lives and works in Berlin) is represented by three reclining sculptures: Lying on the lake (2017), Velvet girl (2021/23), and Liegende (Reclining figure) (2025). All three depict a girl lying on her side, rendered either in bronze or in glass. The figure embodies far more than an image of sleep. It conveys states of transition—between childhood and adulthood, repose and tension, enclosure and openness, the imaginary and the real. Through reduction and suggestion, the girl becomes a metaphor for existence—less an individual than a universal being. Ikemura is concerned with the question of “where we come from and how we might arrive in reality.” Depending on the light and time of day, the glass sculpture Velvet girl, for instance, changes its color, shifting along a spectrum from pale grey to delicate pink, at times appearing soft as cotton and at others hard as stone.

People die flickers in red light toward the viewer. Maja Bajević’s (b. 1967 in Sarajevo, Bosnia and Herzegovina; lives and works in Paris) 2022 work is part of an ongoing series of light pieces that address inequality and discrimination. The work People die seeks to remind us of what we so often forget, and it can evoke a sense of unease, discomfort, and disquiet. Its luminous display draws on the visual language of advertising, thereby creating a stark paradox with its message—one that has gained renewed urgency in times of global conflict.

Christoph Hänsli’s (b.1963 in Zürich, where he lives and works) triptych Dreifaltigkeit (Trinity, 2025, egg tempera and acrylic on canvas) approaches the concept of the “Trinity” with the artist’s characteristic subtle humor, a notion that can also be transferred to the form of sculpture. Each panel of the three-part painting depicts a flesh-colored slice of mortadella on a white background, rendered in the characteristic 1:1 scale, folded in different ways. Through folding, the mortadella slice acquires a sculptural form and is, on the pictorial level, translated into three-dimensionality.

Three new fragile sculptures in white plaster by the artist Valérie Favre (b.1959 in Switzerland; lives and works between Berlin and Neuchâtel) are on display. Each is titled Lapine univers rau (2025), yet they differ in size and form. Favre has brought her renowned alter ego from the Lapine univers series, which she began in the early 2000s, literally from the two-dimensional plane into three-dimensional space.

Farsh-07 (2004) by Shirana Shahbazi (b.1974 in Tehran, Iran; lives and works in Zürich) belongs to an early body of work for which the artist had traditionally knotted Persian carpets produced based on her photographic compositions. The tapestry depicts a baby seated in a white diaper and wrap shirt, attentively looking to the right. The strong contrast of the monochromatic, deep black background accentuates the physical presence of the child even more vividly.

The three sculptures Fuck me, please, thank you, you’re welcome (2025), Me not in the studio (Bronze 1, 2025), and Me in the studio (Bronze 1, 2025) by Tobias Spichtig (b. 1982, Sembach, Switzerland; lives and works in Zürich and Berlin) stand in a mystically ghostly manner on the right side of the room. The unusual combination of studio garments and diving fins arose by chance—through an attempt to stabilize the fragile, attenuated sculptures using elements from his atelier. The bronze sculptures, with a greenish patina, were produced by casting an original resin sculpture and then burning it out. This process of burnout imparts a tense verticality and a delicate transparency to the figures. They appear to emerge from the material while simultaneously detaching from it.

Artur Żmijewski (b. 1966 in Warsaw, where he lives and works) presents three black-and-white photographs from the series Red army *(2023). The works were taken by Żmijewski at the Soviet Military Cemetery in Warsaw and depict sections of the two sculptural groups *Heroism and Sacrifice by the sculptors Jerzy Jarnuszkiewicz and Stanisław Lisowski, which form part of the conflict-laden monument honoring the Red Army. The artist has fragmentarily overlaid the details of the stone-carved figures, thereby detaching them from their site-specific context and imbuing them with a new layer of meaning.

A unifying element between the first and second rooms is formed by six bronze sculptures of pigeons by Andriu Deplazes (b. 1993 in Zürich; lives and works in Marseille and Zürich), each displayed individually or in pairs throughout the exhibition spaces: Taube mit stummelbein (2025), Aufrechte taube (2024), Hinkende taube (2025), Taube blickt zurück (2024), Liegende taube (2024), and Taube an kante (2025). The pigeon, as a recurring motif in Deplazes’ work, reflects his engagement with nature and civilization and the relationship between humans and animals.

In the second exhibition room, viewers first encounter Camgun #69 (2008) and Camgun #73 (2008) by Francis Alÿs (b. 1959 in Antwerp; lives and works in Mexico). These assemblages of wooden guns and found film reels and spools hover on the boundary between camera and firearm. The acts of photographing and firing bullets are intrinsically linked—and here imbued with a subtle, underlying sense of humor. Each work is accompanied by a so-called instruction manual, framed and installed on the wall within the exhibition.

Duo de congas rojo y azul (2015) by Los carpinteros (Dagoberto Rodriguez, b. 1969, & Marco Antonio Castillo Valdés, b. 1971, both in Cuba) – two conga drums that appear to be melting – evoke the recurring rhythms of Latin American music. As a symbol of a way of life, they simultaneously allude to the cultural clichés with which Cuba has long been associated. Not only is the physical sensation of heat and rhythm materialized here, but the solid body of the drum itself seems to dissolve, as if it, too, cannot withstand the intensity. Within this quiet gesture, however, lies a subtle critique: in a country that does not tolerate open criticism, even the instruments melt—signifying a society in danger of losing its grounding.

Illumination (2012) by Jorge Macchi (b. 1963, Buenos Aires, where he lives and works)—a white, starshaped structure—occupies an impressive, almost majestic presence within the exhibition, being nearly three meters high and over two meters wide. Only upon closer inspection does one recognize that the tapering rays of cement culminate in flashlight holders made of gleaming, golden metal. The inner space, where the light beams of the flashlights metaphorically converge, remains hidden from the viewer. This play with perception, paradox, and the moment of uncertainty is characteristic of Macchi’s practice.

Willy Doherty (b. 1959, Derry, Northern Ireland; lives and works in Donegal) Without trace (Into thin air) (2013) belongs to a series of eleven color photographs that complement the thirteen-minute film Without Trace (2013). This color photograph, like the others in the series, depicts contemporary Zürich under snow. No trace of human presence can be seen; the city appears entirely deserted, with buildings and structures rendered in a sculptural manner.

Untitled (2023) by João Modé (b. 1961, Resende, Brazil; lives and works in Rio de Janeiro), a geometrically minimalist, sculptural object crafted from a beige-brown Buriti mat, references Brazilian Constructivism and the Neo-Concrete movement of the 1950s and 1960s. Suspended from a thin thread attached to the gallery ceiling, the work hangs low enough for its fringes to touch the floor. The structure registers every movement and gust of air in the space, shifting, swirling, or dancing in response.

The third room is dedicated to the installation Gesture to home (Group III, 2023) by Didier William (b. 1983, Port-au-Prince, Haiti; lives and works in Philadelphia). Installed against teal-colored walls are two paintings of cypress swamps, which serve as carriers of history. The evening sky glows in shades of orange and red in the background, casting yellow reflections on the reflective surface of the swamp. The tree trunks shimmer magically in vivid turquoise and orange. Two sculptures occupy the space, emerging from the cypress trunks: a single hand and a figure bending backward, as if attempting to free itself from its firmly rooted base. Both sculptures feature William’s characteristic black-and-white eyes, which gaze in all directions, transforming the viewers into the observed.