Ernst Ludwig Kirchner


Rückenakt mit Spiegel und Mann

Material / Technique
Bildmaß 151 × 74,5 cm
Rahmenmaß 165,8 × 89,7 × 4,5 cm
Related Digital Projects
Acquisition details
Erworben 1988 aus Privatbesitz
Ernst Ludwig Kirchner, Rückenakt mit Spiegel und Mann, 1912, Öl auf Leinwand, Brücke-Museum, Gemeinfreies Werk

Exhibitions (selection)

Literature (selection)

  • Magdalena M. Moeller, Das Brücke-Museum Berlin, Prestel, München 1996.

  • Magdalena M. Moeller (Hg.), Brücke. La nascita dell´espressionismo, Ausst.-Kat. Fondazione Antonio Mazzotta Milan, Mazzotta, Milano 1999.

  • Magdalena M. Moeller (Hg.), Die Brücke. Meisterwerke aus dem Brücke-Museum Berlin, Ausst.-Kat. Brücke-Museum Berlin, Hirmer Verlag, München 2000.

  • Magdalena M. Moeller (Hg.), Ernst Ludwig Kirchner. Neuerwerbungen seit 1988, Hirmer Verlag, München 2001.

  • Javier Arnaldo, Magdalena M. Moeller (Hg.), Brücke. Die Geburt des deutschen Expressionismus, Ausst.-Kat. Berlinische Galerie, Hirmer Verlag, München 2005.

  • Javier Arnaldo, Magdalena M. Moeller (Hg.), Brücke. El nacimiento del expresionismo alemán, Ausst.-Kat. Museo Thyssen-Bornesza Madrid/Fundación Caja Madrid, Madrid 2005.

  • Brücke. El naixement de l'expressionisme alemany, Ausst.-Kat. Museu Nacional d'Art de Catalunya Barcelona, Lunwerg, Barcelona 2005.

  • Dirk Luckow, Magdalena M. Moeller, Peter Thurmann (Hg.), Christian Rohlfs. Die Begegnung mit der Moderne, Ausst.-Kat. Kunsthalle zu Kiel / Brücke-Museum Berlin, Hirmer Verlag, München 2005.

  • Magdalena M. Moeller (Hg.), Brücke-Museum Berlin, Malerei und Plastik. Kommentiertes Verzeichnis der Bestände, Hirmer Verlag, München 2006.

  • Magdalena M. Moeller (Hg.), Brücke Highlights, Hirmer Verlag, München 2007.

  • Magdalena M. Moeller (Hg.), Brücke Museum Highlights, Hirmer Verlag, München 2017.


Signiert unten rechts: EL Kirchner (Signatur)
Nicht bezeichnet (Bezeichnung)

Inventory Number

Catalog Number
Gordon 225

(Thủy-Tiên Nguyễn)

You stare at me, but you don’t see me

My black hair, my brown eyes, my dusty pink lips that press against each other when I feel your greedy gaze on my body. As your gaze slowly moves from my lips further down over my naked chest, my belly button, over my vulva, my legs and toes. From every angle you look at me, like a commodity, like an object you picked up from an assembly line.

Male gaze
White gaze
White male gaze
White colonizer gaze
On my “yellow” body
On my “Is it a woman or a guy?” body

You don’t see my wounds that get torn open every time. You don’t see my pain. You don’t see my scars forming and slowly healing. You don’t see the collective pain stemming from centuries of history, starting with white colonial racist violence. Your “Asian fetish,” your “yellow fever” disgusts me. Your stares disgust me. Your touch disgusts me. You objectify, dehumanize and hypersexualize people who look like me. What you see is my body being read as female and marked “Asian”. You stare at me, but you don’t see me.

The images of an “Asian” woman are burned into your brain.
Your touch is burning into my skin.

You leave traces that I try to wash away with water, but they are still there. You leave wounds that I try to put cream on, but they are still there. You leave images in front of my eyes, which I try to suppress, but they are still there.

The water in the shower is splashing on my skin way too hot. I lay my head back, the water is running over my closed eyes, over my cheeks, nose, and lips.

The warm light from my floor lamp in the corner of my bedroom quietly touches my body. Shadows draw contours on my cheekbones, on my collarbone, on my chest. I clasp my upper arms with both hands. It’s no longer “digging my fingernails into my upper arms”. It’s a gentle caress. Soft and loving.

Falling out of the norm, for me, also means being closer to myself instead of having to make sure I fit into a grid that other people want to categorize and squeeze me into because they can’t stand and accept it otherwise. I can be the way I want to be, I can look the way I want to look. I think of fluidity, of waves and the sea. I think of how everything blurs into each other and draws contours at the same time.

I am not a woman. You don’t understand. I am not a woman. You are disgusted.

My non-binary body confuses you.
My non-binary body frees me.
I can exhale. Finally.

(Thủy-Tiên Nguyễn )
You stare at me, but you don’t see me
(Isabel Fischer )
About the Work
(Josephine Papke )
(CK ) Arms
(CK ) Looks
(CK ) Bum
(CK ) Sex work
(Jamie ) Body
(L ) Scary
(Panda ) Femme fatale
(Panda ) Standing naked
(Rania ) Filter
(Tabesch ) Male Gaze
(Tabesch ) Idealized