A major retrospective of Brazilian artist Lygia Clark at Berlin's Neue Nationalgalerie demonstrates how art, therapy, and politics intersected in profound ways during one of Brazil's darkest political periods. The exhibition makes a compelling case that these three disciplines are far more intimately connected than typically acknowledged in traditional art discourse.

Clark was a pivotal figure among the Neo-concretists, a revolutionary group of Brazilian artists who emerged in the 1950s around geometric abstraction in both two and three dimensions. Her early work uniquely bridged these dimensional boundaries, creating painterly sculptures and paintings that incorporated sculptural elements. This innovative approach would later evolve into something far more radical and politically charged.

Following Brazil's 1964 military coup that installed a brutal dictatorship, Clark and many of her contemporaries fundamentally shifted their artistic practice. By the 1960s, their work increasingly invited not just contact from visitors, but actual interaction between participants themselves. This evolution represented more than artistic experimentation—it was a form of resistance and survival.

The exhibition showcases Clark's early interactive works, including her famous "Bichos" (Creatures) series—bright silver sculptures made from aluminum pieces joined by hinges. Each sculpture can transform into various configurations, requiring human touch and manipulation to realize its full potential. These works marked Clark's transition from static art objects to dynamic, participatory experiences.

Particularly significant is Clark's "Nostalgia of the Body" series, which began in 1964, the same year as the military coup. This collection ranges from intimate pieces like "Diálogo de mãos" (Dialogue of Hands)—a collaboration with fellow Brazilian artist Hélio Oiticica featuring a continuous material designed to join two people's hands together—to large-scale installations like "A casa é o corpo" (The House Is The Body). This three-phase structure evokes physical reproduction processes and aims to facilitate visitors' conceptual rebirth.

By the late 1970s, Clark had begun creating material objects specifically designed as psychotherapeutic tools. These works activated or deactivated various senses, particularly touch and sight, representing her pursuit of art that operated at the intersection of creativity and daily life. Her group works included "Life Structures," featuring enormous rubber bands that multiple participants could weave themselves into, and "Anthropophagic Slobber," where participants gradually encased an inert body with colorful thread spun from their mouths in a complex dance that left everyone tangled together.

The Neue Nationalgalerie's presentation differs dramatically from a major 2014 retrospective at New York's Museum of Modern Art. While the MoMA exhibition positioned Clark's work alongside more recognizable American artists like Rebecca Horn and Robert Morris, it offered limited opportunities for visitors to actually engage with her sensorial objects. The Berlin exhibition, by contrast, provides extensive interactive experiences.

Visitors can climb onto stepped structures to manipulate replica "bichos," try on Clark's sensory suits designed to block sight while focusing attention on bodily exploration, and experiment with various wearable sensorial objects. During a recent visit, children played with the creatures on platforms, couples experimented with mirrored glasses designed for two people, visitors posed in sensory hoods, and groups became progressively entangled in networks of interconnected rubber bands.

For Clark, therapy represented a form of survival during Brazil's oppressive military period. Turning inward to discover and strengthen the self constituted a radical act of self-preservation when individuals had little recourse against authoritarian control. Her practice of showing others pathways to such understanding was inherently political, though packaging these politics as art or therapy provided crucial protection in a context where explicit resistance could prove dangerous.

The Neue Nationalgalerie exhibition explicitly reveals this strategic approach, a move that feels particularly relevant as surveillance-heavy societies worldwide drift toward authoritarianism. Clark's work provides a roadmap for survival and perseverance during difficult times, offering visitors—whether drawn to her artistic or therapeutic practice—an invitation to slow down, strengthen individual identity through collective connection, and develop new pathways for persistence and survival.

The retrospective, curated by Irina Hiebert Grun and Maike Steinkamp with Assistant Curator Sarah Hampel, continues at the Neue Nationalgalerie through October 12. The exhibition demonstrates how Clark's revolutionary approach to interactive art emerged from necessity, transforming personal and collective survival strategies into groundbreaking artistic practice that continues to resonate in today's political climate.