Preface Tandem—in class with Anke Feuchtenberger

The most important thing is to look really closely, on the inside as well as on the outside.
This is what we learned from Anke.
We learned that if you want to draw a story, you have to take into account that it will start small and require time and dedication and discipline to grow.
If you manage to do this, the drawing will take the lead, free of any expectations, allowing
the narrative to grow. »Anke taught me to trust in the drawing«. In communications with our contributors, we encountered this statement again and again. Anke often stressed the importance of approaching a drawing with humility. Having set this on the page, I am no longer sure. Is this really something she said? Or is it something I discussed with a colleague during an exchange on drawing? To my mind, taking a humble stand towards
a drawing has something to do with Anke. I would like to maintain that this is something she could have said. In Old High German, humbleness, humility means ›the mindset of a servant‹. This fits into what Anke taught us: We draw and narrate with an eye to what is there, without making it bigger than it is, with as little intention as possible. When we draw, when we find ourselves in a state of close observation, we connect with our surroundings and connect our surrounding with our mind-flow. The drawing itself insists on being taken seriously. It imparts to us something that we did not know, could not know. It demands an attention that is nothing less than humble. In this sense, we serve the drawing. Motives, characters, artistic practices that evolved in this way during our studies with Anke have stayed with many of us up to this day. In her classes, intense discussions about our drawings and stories opened up individual paths for each of us. From the outset, Anke treats her students with respect. This respect extends to individual
circumstances: Be they responsibilities as parents or care-takers, administrative obstacles facing foreign students or problematic life situations of all kinds. Many of us have found support and solidarity in Anke. She always respected our wish to be artists, took seriously our longings and ambition.

This is a central point. Some students find it hard not to question their right to
study at a university that emphasizes applied-artistic skills and requires proof of applicable »talent« (demands that can resonate in one’s head). Which is why it is
so important to find a respectful, attentiveteacher as a counterpart. Someone who
is challenging, who expects discipline and dedication to whatever a person is working
on. Who listens closely, looks carefully, tries to understand what is there and in which direction it might lead. We have learned to take these questions as guidelines and to follow their answers on our paths as artists.

One of our contributors describes how Anke suggested that she not turn her back to the object she was drawing. Instead, she should find a position in which »her heart is open to the object«. Which may sound esoteric, Anke added, but why not see what happens? In my understanding, this does not sound esoteric at all. I find the essence of everything that we learned during our studies in this piece of advice: To open our hearts to the objects of our drawings.
What an immense fortune to have Anke as a teacher in Hamburg.