Pipilotti Rist's Hypnotic Landscapes Take Shape at UCCA Beijing
Curated by Yan Fang, the exhibition presents an elaborate showcase of Rist's pioneering practice, from name-making pieces like,'I'm Not the Girl Who Misses Much'(1986) and'You Called Me Jacky'(1990) to never-before-seen works, including a new, large-scale video installation — the museum's largest commission to date. With roots in ecological thought and Taoist philosophy, her sensorial works offer poetic alternatives to the algorithmic logic of image culture.
Grounding the show is'Your Palm is My Universe'(2025), a newly commissioned installation that transforms UCCA's Great Hall into a cinematic, dreamlike atmosphere. Loops of hands, feet and faces punctuate draping veils of fabric, as Rist reimagines the space as a 'collective organism' against the backdrop an ambient soundscape by Surma. The piece confronts constellations of bodily reality as light and sound ripple through the hall.
Alongside the titular installation, the'Heaven on Earth'wall mural and'Spring Chaoyang Chandelier'of pink swimsuits, build on this exploration of the individual-collective body through ideas of social codes, intimacy and public presentation.
Rist, whose art has long meditated on vulnerability, innocence and the emotional toll of modern life, conjures a luminous world that finds wonder amidst the chaos of information overload. In a recent statement, the museum wrote: 'This exhibition is a hypnotically vivid reflection of Rist's enduring vision of art as a space for empathy, renewal, and imagination to come alive for embodied existence.'
The exhibition is now onviewin Beijing through October 19.
UCCA Center for Contemporary Art4 Jiuxianqiao Rd, Chaoyang,Beijing, China, 100102
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6 hours ago
- Yahoo
Following Euros travel tips from Switzerland and Arsenal midfielder Lia Walti
No one has been a better ambassador for the European Championship in Switzerland than Lia Walti. A key part of Arsenal's midfield for nearly a decade, Walti is even more crucial to the Swiss national team. She captains the side and is one of the only women to have started every game in a major tournament for Switzerland. She made her debut at 18 years old and helped the country to its first World Cup (2015) and Euros (2017) appearances. However, last year, the 32-year-old took on a new role as an unofficial travel agent. Before the Euros started, Walti created an Instagram account, called @lias_switzerland, in which she went through the highlights of her country, including a breakdown of all eight host cities. Eventually, her Arsenal and Swiss team-mates got involved. This summer, Switzerland made it out of the group stage before ultimately falling to Spain in the quarter-finals. Before Germany's performance in the semi-final, Switzerland had the best defensive performance against the World Cup winners, holding them scoreless until the 66th minute. Despite the exit, Switzerland will have plenty of positives to take away, from record crowds to the inevitable hosting bump that England and the Netherlands saw in 2022 and 2017 respectively. In the run-up to Sunday's final between England and Spain, The Athletic made it to all eight host cities, each with its own unique view. However, for the sake of brevity and leaving a reason to come back, we have narrowed our list to four cities to highlight. Forgive us, Walti, for leaving off the following. Sion and Thun were charming excursions during the group stage. Geneva was bustling with life, chocolate and water spouts, but much of that experience was watching England and Italy go down to the wire in the semi-finals. Basel, a city known for its art and the thrilling quarter-final between France and Germany (made all the more exciting due to its proximity to both countries), will host the final. Walti suggests a swim in the Rhine, though the weather might not be so kind. Still, the cobblestone streets and stadium built to capture all the noise will be a fitting send-off. Alongside our football coverage, our writers found a way to turn climbing mountains, visiting fairytale-like towns and swimming in pristine rivers into football coverage. As Euro 2025 comes to an end, here are four cities that left a lasting impression on our writers. Lucerne Matches: Wales vs Netherlands, Poland vs Sweden, Poland vs Denmark Like a robust Walti challenge in the first five minutes of a game, Lucerne's beauty lets you know it's there from the off. Lake Lucerne is waiting immediately as you exit the railway station, a sprawling body of shimmering turquoise. Like so much of the water in Switzerland, it's outrageously clear, blue and inviting, and you do wonder what the Swiss must think if they rock up to a UK beach, the harsh, grey English Channel glaring back at them. As per Walti's instructions, I take a stroll along the promenade. Nestled snugly on the edge of the lake is a fleet of pedalos. Walti has, after all, suggested a river cruise, and this would be a cruise, of sorts. I skim The Athletic's expenses policy, but a section regarding the hire of pedalos and other recreational human-powered watercraft is notably absent. Making a mental note to raise this with HR, I take the journey on foot instead. Most cities would be content with just a lake, but Lucerne goes above and beyond. The lake is set against the backdrop of the Rigi and Pilatus mountains, and is surrounded by buildings with turrets and spires, shuttered windows and red wooden beams — the sort of places I'd assumed only existed on Christmas cards. Lucerne's like your one mate who somehow always looks effortlessly good in photos, whatever the angle. Next on the agenda is the Museggmauer, and I walk there via the Kapellbrucke, which Walti has reliably informed us is 'the world's oldest surviving wooden bridge'. Dating back to the 14th century, the bridge arches are decorated with paintings depicting scenes from Swiss history — many of which have been restored following a fire in 1993. The lake is on one side, the Reuss river on the other. It's prime photo opportunity territory and it is bustling with visitors. The Museggmauer is Lucerne's medieval city wall and consists of 'nine towers you can actually climb'. With my legs feeling fresh following a lack of pedalo action, bring on the nine towers. A sign outside the first tower — Mannliturm — explains that you can only climb three of the towers right to the top, before adding ominously: 'Visit at your own risk.' Undeterred, I attack the first staircase with purpose, but the spring in my step has waned as the staircases just keep coming. One fellow tower enthusiast pauses on the descent to stretch her quadriceps muscle. A young child, no older than three or four, exclaims 'phew' after scaling one particularly steep, narrow set of stairs, shaking his head and wiping his brow with all the world-weariness of a man 50 years his senior. It's 125 stairs to the top, but when you reach the summit, your shortness of breath and that twinge in your thigh are instantly forgotten. It's an amazing view. I thought Lucerne was stunning on the ground, but from up here, it's quite frankly showing off. I meander back along the city walls and around the lake — taking one last, lingering look at the pedalos — before heading for the train home. Ali Rampling St. Gallen Matches: Germany vs Poland, France vs Wales, England vs Wales I'm going to go out on a limb here and suggest Walti did not make her hiking recommendations for St. Gallen with the idea of it being barely 10C (50F) and raining. But here I am, at the top of a mountain, waving at some non-plussed cows and wondering how to warm up my toes as they cold-plunge in my boots. 'Chill in Drei Weieren (the scenic ponds above the city) or take in a panoramic view with a hike up to Freudenberg.' These were Walti's challenges I accepted on a Tuesday morning ahead of the Group D match between France and Wales, armed with a peanut butter Cliff bar and then-dry socks. I'm lactose intolerant and (an attempted) vegan, meaning Walti's recommendations for bratwurst were a no. While I can't speak for a sunny day, a grey and rainy one still does this hike to the top more than enough justice. I meander out of the old town's cobblestones and climb flights of wooden stairs, whose tops disappear into thick fog. The effect is Led Zeppelin (Gen Z, Google this). Upon reaching the top, there is St. Gallen below, a compact Christmas town to pack up and build under the tree in December. At the top, there is a pond with lily pads, the rain parachuting down atop their pink flowers. Beside it, a makeshift pool with diving boards, designated lanes, and bleachers for a swim competition. At this point, I'm pretty rain-drenched, so I figure chilling in that water is overkill. But my iPhone weather app (rookie error) tells me the rain is clearing up, so I decide to move into the forest and scale the seeder paths to the top to see the fuss about Freudenberg. The miles-high pine trees offer some reprieve from the drumming rain. I should mention at this point, I'm clearly the only human dumb enough to make this journey in these conditions. Companions consist of one scampering squirrel and a few flitting birds the size of my fist. As the rain continues and fog begins to roll through the branches, the woods feel enchantingly brooding. I have a theory that green looks better against grey, its effervescence more stated. In St. Gallen, I feel I have enough evidence to christen my theory factual. Eventually, my climb leaves me staring at the treetops I once craned my neck upwards to consider. The rain is belting it, little rivers sluicing through my trails. I wish I had more photographic evidence, but I opted against waterboarding my only form of communication in case of emergency. To make a long story short, there are non-plussed cows at the top of St. Gallen, and the view is enrapturing, even in the cascading rain. As far as the Abbey library, another of Walti's recommendations while in St. Gallen, goes: stunning and, more importantly, dry. 10/10. The Abbey is not really a library but a literary oasis. Apparently, it's won 1,000 library awards. If you want to pretend you've traded yourself into the town's local monster to secure your dad's safety and then sing to some talking humans-turned-pieces-of-furniture, this is arguably as close as you're going to get. Everything is gilded. There is a globe the size of my bathroom back home. It is prettier than everything I have ever and will ever own. The rest of St. Gallen is charming. Quaint and intimate streets melt into each other before rising high into old, quintessentially Swiss buildings. To walk through the old town is to walk through not just history, but peace. It is difficult to imagine feeling stressed about a water bill here. Megan Feringa Zurich Matches: France vs England, England vs Netherlands, Sweden vs Germany, Sweden vs England, Germany vs Spain 'What you can do today, do tomorrow. Go for a swim, have a drink,' read a sign in the industrial quarter, to the north-west of Zurich's city centre. Mission accepted. I jump into the deep, greeny-blue water of the Limmat river. Its temperature is not the freezing kind that takes your breath away, but a cool tonic to the blazing heat. Watch out for rogue bits of foliage, and after rainfall, the current is strong, making swimming upstream a real workout. When you go with the flow, however, you feel like superwoman propelled by the river's force. Indeed, some Swiss residents use the current to commute to work. Using a waterproof bag as a pillow, they float down on their backs, passing by other locals who are reading, sunbathing, doing yoga or playing volleyball on the adjacent river banks. It's a very outdoorsy, chilled vibe. Lifeguards are on hand and the river is closed to swimmers when the current is deemed too dangerous. I can't quite erase the image of taking a breath to the side as I front crawl, putting my head down and seeing a floating whitish grey blob with a long tail inches away from me. Walti failed to mention the prospect of encountering a dead rat in the river, but I suppose that's the beauty of swimming in the wild. I was in Zurich for much of the tournament because it was closest to England's base, and that encounter with the rat did not deter me from returning every day. Overall, a top recommendation and a tournament game-changer. Replenish your energy stores in one of the bars and cafes lining the river. Keep walking and you pass through Altstadt (Zurich's old town). The bells of the majestic churches Fraumunster (Women's Minster) and Grossmunster (Great Minster), located on either side of the river, ring out while small motor boats covered with beige and blue jackets bob up and down on the water. There's a charming miniature bronze model of the old town, which gives you a sense of the city's scale. Walk up the wide, cobbled streets to Linderhof gardens, where locals play on gigantic chess boards and the view below captures the old town and river leading to Lake Zurich, another haven for swimmers. Charlotte Harpur Bern Matches: Spain vs Portugal, Switzerland vs Iceland, Italy vs Spain, Spain vs Switzerland I owe Bern an apology. For some reason (not worth me beginning to justify now I've realised I'm wrong), I always imagined Bern to be a boring, businesslike capital city, a la Brussels, and thought the main Swiss attractions were to be found elsewhere in the country. But no! Bern is one of the most striking, elegant capital cities imaginable. Especially in the sunshine and with Italy and Spain fans bringing extra colour ahead of their Group B finale, all blues and reds, to the city centre. On a day like this, you simply don't want to be inside. So forgive me for ignoring Walti's tip of Einstein Haus and the Einstein Museum, which I'm sure are wonderful, but I walk past. I'm largely committing to Walti's first tip: 'Strolling through the arcaded Old Town — 6km of covered walkways and medieval charm.' This is my natural approach to a new city, just wandering around, and I've clocked up 8.4km by the time I head towards the stadium so I'm confident I've completed a good proportion of those 6km. The old town is magnificent, full of grand buildings, elegant shops, and restaurants that feel calmer than their equivalents in, say, Florence or Munich. There's minimal traffic. It is almost encircled by a meander of the Aare river, making it feel like an island city. The river, like many in Switzerland, is impossibly blue because of the glacial flour in the water coming down from the Alps. Having swam in the river back in Zurich on several days so far, I don't feel much desire to 'swim in the Aare river — or float with the current like a local', although I deeply admire the locals' faith in the waterproof bags that they throw their wallet, phone and sunglasses into, before sweeping around the bends, swimming more to stay afloat than to actually propel themselves. Strolling up the Kramgasse, one of the main streets in the old town, I reach another of Walti's recommendations almost accidentally. 'Visit the famous Zytglogge (clock tower) and watch the figures dance on the hour.' I arrived at 2:53pm. This was quite promising; cometh the hour, cometh the men. I'm sorry to say that it was somewhat underwhelming and 200 or so fellow tourists assembled to take videos, then looked around at each other, wondering if that was it. But, peeling back towards the river, I come across a scene that sums up this tournament: an Italy supporter and a Spain supporter, sitting on some stone steps in the shade, having a beer together, and just admiring the view. Michael Cox This article originally appeared in The Athletic. Arsenal, International Football, Women's Soccer, Culture, Women's Euros 2025 The Athletic Media Company
New York Times
7 hours ago
- New York Times
Following Euros travel tips from Switzerland and Arsenal midfielder Lia Walti
No one has been a better ambassador for the European Championship in Switzerland than Lia Walti. A key part of Arsenal's midfield for nearly a decade, Walti is even more crucial to the Swiss national team. She captains the side and is one of the only women to have started every game in a major tournament for Switzerland. She made her debut at 18 years old and helped the country to its first World Cup (2015) and Euros (2017) appearances. Advertisement However, last year, the 32-year-old took on a new role as an unofficial travel agent. Before the Euros started, Walti created an Instagram account, called @lias_switzerland, in which she went through the highlights of her country, including a breakdown of all eight host cities. Eventually, her Arsenal and Swiss team-mates got involved. This summer, Switzerland made it out of the group stage before ultimately falling to Spain in the quarter-finals. Before Germany's performance in the semi-final, Switzerland had the best defensive performance against the World Cup winners, holding them scoreless until the 66th minute. Despite the exit, Switzerland will have plenty of positives to take away, from record crowds to the inevitable hosting bump that England and the Netherlands saw in 2022 and 2017 respectively. A post shared by Lia Wälti (@liawaelti) In the run-up to Sunday's final between England and Spain, The Athletic made it to all eight host cities, each with its own unique view. However, for the sake of brevity and leaving a reason to come back, we have narrowed our list to four cities to highlight. Forgive us, Walti, for leaving off the following. Sion and Thun were charming excursions during the group stage. Geneva was bustling with life, chocolate and water spouts, but much of that experience was watching England and Italy go down to the wire in the semi-finals. Basel, a city known for its art and the thrilling quarter-final between France and Germany (made all the more exciting due to its proximity to both countries), will host the final. Walti suggests a swim in the Rhine, though the weather might not be so kind. Still, the cobblestone streets and stadium built to capture all the noise will be a fitting send-off. Alongside our football coverage, our writers found a way to turn climbing mountains, visiting fairytale-like towns and swimming in pristine rivers into football coverage. As Euro 2025 comes to an end, here are four cities that left a lasting impression on our writers. Matches: Wales vs Netherlands, Poland vs Sweden, Poland vs Denmark Like a robust Walti challenge in the first five minutes of a game, Lucerne's beauty lets you know it's there from the off. Lake Lucerne is waiting immediately as you exit the railway station, a sprawling body of shimmering turquoise. Like so much of the water in Switzerland, it's outrageously clear, blue and inviting, and you do wonder what the Swiss must think if they rock up to a UK beach, the harsh, grey English Channel glaring back at them. Advertisement As per Walti's instructions, I take a stroll along the promenade. Nestled snugly on the edge of the lake is a fleet of pedalos. Walti has, after all, suggested a river cruise, and this would be a cruise, of sorts. I skim The Athletic's expenses policy, but a section regarding the hire of pedalos and other recreational human-powered watercraft is notably absent. Making a mental note to raise this with HR, I take the journey on foot instead. Most cities would be content with just a lake, but Lucerne goes above and beyond. The lake is set against the backdrop of the Rigi and Pilatus mountains, and is surrounded by buildings with turrets and spires, shuttered windows and red wooden beams — the sort of places I'd assumed only existed on Christmas cards. Lucerne's like your one mate who somehow always looks effortlessly good in photos, whatever the angle. Next on the agenda is the Museggmauer, and I walk there via the Kapellbrucke, which Walti has reliably informed us is 'the world's oldest surviving wooden bridge'. Dating back to the 14th century, the bridge arches are decorated with paintings depicting scenes from Swiss history — many of which have been restored following a fire in 1993. The lake is on one side, the Reuss river on the other. It's prime photo opportunity territory and it is bustling with visitors. The Museggmauer is Lucerne's medieval city wall and consists of 'nine towers you can actually climb'. With my legs feeling fresh following a lack of pedalo action, bring on the nine towers. A sign outside the first tower — Mannliturm — explains that you can only climb three of the towers right to the top, before adding ominously: 'Visit at your own risk.' Undeterred, I attack the first staircase with purpose, but the spring in my step has waned as the staircases just keep coming. One fellow tower enthusiast pauses on the descent to stretch her quadriceps muscle. A young child, no older than three or four, exclaims 'phew' after scaling one particularly steep, narrow set of stairs, shaking his head and wiping his brow with all the world-weariness of a man 50 years his senior. Advertisement It's 125 stairs to the top, but when you reach the summit, your shortness of breath and that twinge in your thigh are instantly forgotten. It's an amazing view. I thought Lucerne was stunning on the ground, but from up here, it's quite frankly showing off. I meander back along the city walls and around the lake — taking one last, lingering look at the pedalos — before heading for the train home. Ali Rampling Matches: Germany vs Poland, France vs Wales, England vs Wales I'm going to go out on a limb here and suggest Walti did not make her hiking recommendations for St. Gallen with the idea of it being barely 10C (50F) and raining. But here I am, at the top of a mountain, waving at some non-plussed cows and wondering how to warm up my toes as they cold-plunge in my boots. 'Chill in Drei Weieren (the scenic ponds above the city) or take in a panoramic view with a hike up to Freudenberg.' These were Walti's challenges I accepted on a Tuesday morning ahead of the Group D match between France and Wales, armed with a peanut butter Cliff bar and then-dry socks. I'm lactose intolerant and (an attempted) vegan, meaning Walti's recommendations for bratwurst were a no. While I can't speak for a sunny day, a grey and rainy one still does this hike to the top more than enough justice. I meander out of the old town's cobblestones and climb flights of wooden stairs, whose tops disappear into thick fog. The effect is Led Zeppelin (Gen Z, Google this). Upon reaching the top, there is St. Gallen below, a compact Christmas town to pack up and build under the tree in December. At the top, there is a pond with lily pads, the rain parachuting down atop their pink flowers. Beside it, a makeshift pool with diving boards, designated lanes, and bleachers for a swim competition. At this point, I'm pretty rain-drenched, so I figure chilling in that water is overkill. But my iPhone weather app (rookie error) tells me the rain is clearing up, so I decide to move into the forest and scale the seeder paths to the top to see the fuss about Freudenberg. The miles-high pine trees offer some reprieve from the drumming rain. I should mention at this point, I'm clearly the only human dumb enough to make this journey in these conditions. Advertisement Companions consist of one scampering squirrel and a few flitting birds the size of my fist. As the rain continues and fog begins to roll through the branches, the woods feel enchantingly brooding. I have a theory that green looks better against grey, its effervescence more stated. In St. Gallen, I feel I have enough evidence to christen my theory factual. Eventually, my climb leaves me staring at the treetops I once craned my neck upwards to consider. The rain is belting it, little rivers sluicing through my trails. I wish I had more photographic evidence, but I opted against waterboarding my only form of communication in case of emergency. To make a long story short, there are non-plussed cows at the top of St. Gallen, and the view is enrapturing, even in the cascading rain. As far as the Abbey library, another of Walti's recommendations while in St. Gallen, goes: stunning and, more importantly, dry. 10/10. The Abbey is not really a library but a literary oasis. Apparently, it's won 1,000 library awards. If you want to pretend you've traded yourself into the town's local monster to secure your dad's safety and then sing to some talking humans-turned-pieces-of-furniture, this is arguably as close as you're going to get. Everything is gilded. There is a globe the size of my bathroom back home. It is prettier than everything I have ever and will ever own. The rest of St. Gallen is charming. Quaint and intimate streets melt into each other before rising high into old, quintessentially Swiss buildings. To walk through the old town is to walk through not just history, but peace. It is difficult to imagine feeling stressed about a water bill here. Megan Feringa Matches: France vs England, England vs Netherlands, Sweden vs Germany, Sweden vs England, Germany vs Spain 'What you can do today, do tomorrow. Go for a swim, have a drink,' read a sign in the industrial quarter, to the north-west of Zurich's city centre. Mission accepted. I jump into the deep, greeny-blue water of the Limmat river. Its temperature is not the freezing kind that takes your breath away, but a cool tonic to the blazing heat. Watch out for rogue bits of foliage, and after rainfall, the current is strong, making swimming upstream a real workout. When you go with the flow, however, you feel like superwoman propelled by the river's force. Advertisement Indeed, some Swiss residents use the current to commute to work. Using a waterproof bag as a pillow, they float down on their backs, passing by other locals who are reading, sunbathing, doing yoga or playing volleyball on the adjacent river banks. It's a very outdoorsy, chilled vibe. Lifeguards are on hand and the river is closed to swimmers when the current is deemed too dangerous. I can't quite erase the image of taking a breath to the side as I front crawl, putting my head down and seeing a floating whitish grey blob with a long tail inches away from me. Walti failed to mention the prospect of encountering a dead rat in the river, but I suppose that's the beauty of swimming in the wild. I was in Zurich for much of the tournament because it was closest to England's base, and that encounter with the rat did not deter me from returning every day. Overall, a top recommendation and a tournament game-changer. Replenish your energy stores in one of the bars and cafes lining the river. Keep walking and you pass through Altstadt (Zurich's old town). The bells of the majestic churches Fraumunster (Women's Minster) and Grossmunster (Great Minster), located on either side of the river, ring out while small motor boats covered with beige and blue jackets bob up and down on the water. There's a charming miniature bronze model of the old town, which gives you a sense of the city's scale. Walk up the wide, cobbled streets to Linderhof gardens, where locals play on gigantic chess boards and the view below captures the old town and river leading to Lake Zurich, another haven for swimmers. Charlotte Harpur Matches: Spain vs Portugal, Switzerland vs Iceland, Italy vs Spain, Spain vs Switzerland I owe Bern an apology. For some reason (not worth me beginning to justify now I've realised I'm wrong), I always imagined Bern to be a boring, businesslike capital city, a la Brussels, and thought the main Swiss attractions were to be found elsewhere in the country. But no! Bern is one of the most striking, elegant capital cities imaginable. Especially in the sunshine and with Italy and Spain fans bringing extra colour ahead of their Group B finale, all blues and reds, to the city centre. Advertisement On a day like this, you simply don't want to be inside. So forgive me for ignoring Walti's tip of Einstein Haus and the Einstein Museum, which I'm sure are wonderful, but I walk past. I'm largely committing to Walti's first tip: 'Strolling through the arcaded Old Town — 6km of covered walkways and medieval charm.' This is my natural approach to a new city, just wandering around, and I've clocked up 8.4km by the time I head towards the stadium so I'm confident I've completed a good proportion of those 6km. The old town is magnificent, full of grand buildings, elegant shops, and restaurants that feel calmer than their equivalents in, say, Florence or Munich. There's minimal traffic. It is almost encircled by a meander of the Aare river, making it feel like an island city. The river, like many in Switzerland, is impossibly blue because of the glacial flour in the water coming down from the Alps. Having swam in the river back in Zurich on several days so far, I don't feel much desire to 'swim in the Aare river — or float with the current like a local', although I deeply admire the locals' faith in the waterproof bags that they throw their wallet, phone and sunglasses into, before sweeping around the bends, swimming more to stay afloat than to actually propel themselves. Strolling up the Kramgasse, one of the main streets in the old town, I reach another of Walti's recommendations almost accidentally. 'Visit the famous Zytglogge (clock tower) and watch the figures dance on the hour.' I arrived at 2:53pm. This was quite promising; cometh the hour, cometh the men. I'm sorry to say that it was somewhat underwhelming and 200 or so fellow tourists assembled to take videos, then looked around at each other, wondering if that was it. But, peeling back towards the river, I come across a scene that sums up this tournament: an Italy supporter and a Spain supporter, sitting on some stone steps in the shade, having a beer together, and just admiring the view. Michael Cox
National Geographic
10 hours ago
- National Geographic
The women in Carl Jung's shadow
Emma and Carl Jung at an Eranos Foundation Conference. Photograph by Margarethe Fellerer via INTERFOTO / Alamy Stock Photo For two generations, Emma Jung—the wife of the famous Swiss psychoanalyst Carl Jung—was remembered inside her family mostly as a beloved mother and grandmother. Her original work documenting the deep and rigorous exploration of her own unconscious simply wasn't discussed. 'No one was any longer aware of what she actually produced,' says Thomas Fischer, great-grandson of Carl and Emma—and the former director of the Foundation of the Works of C.G. Jung—who currently serves as a board member and the editor for the foundation. Now, 150 years after Carl Jung's birth, Emma and several of his other female collaborators are finally stepping into the spotlight and being recognized as brilliant thinkers of their own who helped shape some of Jung's most famous theories, including individuation and the archetypes. Like Sigmund Freud, Jung—the founding father of analytical psychology—believed in the importance of the unconscious and dream analysis. (The two men enjoyed a close personal and professional relationship early in Jung's career, and Freud considered the younger man his successor until the two had a falling out.) Jung, however, broadened the concept to a theory he called individuation. Jung thought the deep psychological work of every human was not only exploring the individual unconscious but also exploring the collective unconscious (or the universal symbols and archetypes inherited and shared by all humans that can appear in places like dreams) and integrating those two forces with the conscious to achieve self-actualization. Beyond establishing a new branch of psychoanalysis, Jung pioneered the idea of introversion and extroversion in his personality-type work that inspired the Myers-Briggs personality test. He originated the theory that every person has a 'shadow' self, or suppressed characteristics and desires. He identified 12 archetypes of the human psyche that have been used as storytelling devices by writers in all forms, including those in Hollywood. His ideas have influenced artists like Jackson Pollock and the abstract expressionists, writers like Herman Hesse and Olga Tokarczuk, and musicians like David Bowie and the South Korean boy band BTS. In honor of Jung's sesquicentennial birthday, the XXIII International Congress on Analytical Psychology will be hosted in Zurich this August. But the opening presentation won't be about the man himself. Instead, the topic will be a new book published in January, Dedicated to the Soul: The Writings and Drawings of Emma Jung, which, for the first time, documents the private work of his wife, Emma. 'Emma Jung was at the center of [Carl] Jung's life,' says Sonu Shamdasani, Professor of Jung History at University College London and editor of The Red Book, Jung's dive into the depths of his own unconscious during a troubled time in his life, which had been locked away in a bank vault and left unpublished in his lifetime. 'Without Emma Jung, his work would not have been possible, and not just in terms of maintaining the household, raising the children, and so forth, but as a co-participant in his work.' (Not an extrovert or an introvert? There's a word for that.) There are many wives of great men who were only later given credit for the critical role they played in their husbands' work. (Pollock's wife Lee Krasner, Alfred Hitchcock's wife Alma Reville, and Vera Nabokov, to name a few). While Emma Jung was celebrated during her life and in the nearly 70 years since her death as a key supporter of her husband, the record has largely been silent on her role beyond wife, mother and associate to Jung—that is, on her independent inquiries into her own psyche that she expressed through poetry, paintings, dream analysis, lectures, and other writings that established her as an intellectual force in her own right. And she isn't alone. Jung was surrounded by female followers, so much so that the women were given derogatory nicknames at the time—including Jungfrauen ('Jung's women') and 'Valkyries.' Some started as patients, some as students, but many became scholars, psychoanalysts, and Jungian acolytes. Some also became Jung's lovers. 'These women had come from all over the world,' writes Maggy Anthony, author and one-time student at the C.G. Jung Institute in Zurich, in Salome's Embrace: The Jungian Women. 'Once there, the charisma of Jung and his thought, which took the feminine seriously for the first time, induced them to want to share it with others through analysis and through their writing.' Many of these women have been celebrated along the way for their role as Jung's muses, collaborators, and disciples. But in the past two decades, several, including Sabina Spielrein and Toni Wolff, have begun to step out of the great psychoanalyst's shadow. With the publication in January of Dedicated to the Soul, Emma also now is joining the ranks of Jungian woman who are being recognized for their original work and their contributions to the field of psychology. 'I hope people start to see the individuality of each and every one of these women, and that we better understand their contributions,' says Fischer. As a trained historian, Fischer says he hopes Jungian scholarship moves 'away from the hagiographic tale of Carl Jung.' 'He didn't operate in a vacuum. And that goes for the women, but also for other men around him. His work is deeply rooted in these intellectual networks and exchanges.' Antonia Anna "Toni" Wolff (1888-1953) was a Swiss Jungian analyst and a close associate and sometime lover of psychiatrist Carl Jung. Photograph by Bridgeman Images Maiden and Mother Growing up in Schaffhausen, Switzerland, Emma Jung—née Rauschenbach—was an avid student who was denied an advanced education following the rules of propriety for women of her high-class station. Instead of going to college, she went to Paris on something of an independent study-finishing school year. After she returned home, she began exchanging letters with Jung in 1899. The exact details of how they first became acquainted remain unknown, but they did have some distant family ties (his uncle was an architect who built her family home; her mother babysit for young Carl on occasion as an act of charity for the struggling Jung family). Their courtship was filled with both romance and ideas. Jung encouraged Emma's intellectual curiosity and included lists of book recommendations in his letters. Once they were married, Emma eagerly assisted her new husband with his work. Jung was at the start of his career, working for what would become the famous mental institution, the Burghölzli. Emma was his translator, notetaker, test and case study subject when needed, and even assisted him with patients. Over the course of their marriage, the Jungian education Emma received led her to become an analyst herself, as well as the first elected president of the Psychology Club of Zurich. She also published two books: one on the legend of the Holy Grail, a subject of fascination since her youth, and a set of papers exploring Jung's ideas of animus and anima, or the masculine and feminine aspects of the psyche. Throughout the scholarship on and preservation work of Jung's legacy since his death in 1961, Emma has not been entirely overlooked. The description for the Foundation of the Works of C.G. Jung, the foundation established by his heirs in 2007, states that they are 'dedicated to the maintenance and development of the literary and creative heritage of Carl Gustav Jung and his wife, Emma Jung-Rauschenbach.' The mission of the Haus C.G. Jung, the family home on the banks of Lake Zurich in Küsnacht, Switzerland, which is a public museum and still occupied by family members, is to keep 'the memory alive of the physician and explorer of the human soul, Carl Gustav Jung (1875-1961), and that of his wife and associate, Emma Jung-Rauschenbach.' All this—the work Emma had done in support or in tandem with her husband's ideas—the family knew about. But they didn't know what else she had been working on in private. (The ancient origins of astrology archetypes) That all changed when the family discovered a trove of her papers. According to Fischer, interest in Emma and the other women around Jung began to grow in the 1990s and early 2000s. Around that time, a French author named Imelda Gaudissart began research for a biography (eventually published in 2010) of Emma and approached the family about the rights to publish some of her papers. Ultimately, they declined. The reasons were two-fold: 'I felt it was our obligation to do her justice, and I wanted it to do myself,' Fischer explains. But also, they just didn't know what was in there. Family lore had it that Emma had destroyed a lot of her personal papers in the months before her death in 1955. Plus, the Jungs' children had other priorities. 'I think because in that first generation of descendants, they wanted to keep their mother private to them, they didn't even look into the material,' Fischer says. The keeper of the family archives had also been busy for years fielding requests concerning Carl Jung. 'Up until then, Emma Jung hadn't been that much in the focus, so I don't think he had too many reasons to check in more detail her papers.' Gaudissart's interest prompted Fischer to take a deeper look into the family archives. What he found was a treasure trove that would become Dedicated to the Soul, a book he co-edited and published earlier this year. Dedicated to the Soul is a collection of Emma's lectures, poetry, letters, and drawings that show the depth of Emma's private inquiry, the creativity and breadth of her thinking, and the strength of the analytical work she was doing on herself. Fischer describes the discovery as like finding pieces of Emma's mosaic 'to get a much better understanding of how she became who she was and who she was portrayed and remembered [as] at the end of her life.' 'We don't have to exaggerate; she doesn't necessarily have [Jung's] originality, but she's very curious. She works for years on her own psychological material and takes it to a very deep [place], and I think that that somehow got lost,' Fischer says. 'You could tell this woman made peace with her situation, namely in her married life. And you have to wonder how she did it. It can't have been easy.' Self and Shadow One of the chief difficulties in Emma's marriage was the other women—and her husband's wandering eye when it came to his female collaborators and followers. Sabina Spielrein was one of the first. Spielrein met Jung when she was committed to the Burghölzli at 19. Her upbringing had been difficult, characterized by emotional and possible sexual abuse. She reached her breaking point after the death of a beloved younger sister and eventually landed in the mental institution in Zurich where Jung was working and where she was diagnosed with hysteria. For decades, the story told about Spielrein embodied all the sensational stereotypes of the Jungfrauen. She was reduced to the femme fatale who fell in love with and seduced the genius young doctor on the verge of developing a revolutionary new field in psychology. The dramatized and ahistorical portrayal of her life in David Cronenberg's 2011 A Dangerous Method didn't help. The truth, of course, is much more complicated—and much more interesting. She was Jung's first affair, but not the last, and the exact nature of their relationship is not fully known. But at the Burghölzli, Spielrein turned her life around. Within three months, she was recovering, had applied to medical school, and was on her way to becoming 'one of the most innovative thinkers in psychology in the twentieth century,' according to an article in European Judaism by John Launer, the author of the first biography of Spielrein in English published in 2014. 'The erasure of her life story and intellectual achievements, and the invention in their place of an erotic walk-on part in Jung's life, is one of the more shocking examples of how women's histories have often been rewritten to diminish them,' Launer writes. Sabina Spielrein, who corresponded with both Jung and Freud and helped the latter develop the concept of the death instinct. Photograph by Eraza Collection / Alamy Stock Photo Throughout her career, as catalogued by Launer, Spielrein conducted the first study of schizophrenic speech (the subject of her dissertation); came up with early ideas that contributed to the development of the death instinct, an idea later fully formed and introduced by Freud (who gave her a glancing nod in a footnote); wrote a handful of innovative papers on family dynamics; radically combined several scientific fields of study in her work on child development; and began working on ideas that would eventually pop back up in the field of evolutionary psychology. Spielrein promoted her ideas through lectures and in her professional work, but there were several factors working against their having a lasting influence at that time, according to Klara Naszkowska, a gender, sexuality, and women's studies professor at Montclair State University and founding director of the International Association for Spielrein Studies. First, her groundbreaking perspective on combining ideas from different disciplines extended to combining ideas from different schools of thought. Spielrein had a complicated relationship with Jung and Freud—the former for the obvious reasons, the latter due to a three-way correspondence that developed between Jung, Freud, and Spielrein, 'which puts both men in a poor light as they had tried to silence her' about the affair, according to Launer. But that didn't stop her from also trying to draw on both their schools of thought in her work. Unfortunately, by that time, the intellectual schism between Jung and his one-time mentor Freud was firmly in place, and the camps maintained a scholarly separation. (What makes a genius? Science offers clues.) Second, Spielrein moved to Russia in 1923, far away from the hub of the psychoanalytic movement. 'She basically moves to Mars,' says Naszkowska. Then, during the Holocaust, she and family were murdered by the Nazis, and 'she completely disappears from the intellectual record for 35 years.' Naszkowska says the erasure of Spielrein started to change in the 1970s when a box of her papers was discovered during renovations at the Rousseau Institute in Geneva. People were initially interested in her because of her interactions with both Freud and Jung. While the first wave of attention focused on the affair, in the past few decades, more attention has been paid to Spielrein's own groundbreaking achievements. The International Association for Spielrein Studies was founded in 2017. According to Naszkowska, 'The main idea behind it was always to make the wrongs right with our work, to do her justice that wasn't done to her during her lifetime, but also after her death for many, many, many decades, so that her name is known and so that her ideas not only receive the recognition they deserve, but also they're used, incorporated in syllabi, and taught.' Toni Wolff may not have languished in quite the same decades-long obscurity, but her reputation and ideas have only begun to receive more serious attention since the publication of The Red Book in 2009, with her critical role in that period of Jung's life attracting more notice. Wolff met Jung six years after Spielrein, but under similar circumstances. She would become one of the most serious of Jung's affairs, both in the intense connection between the two and in how interwoven Wolff became in the lives of Jung and his family. Wolff arrived in Jung's world as a patient after a breakdown induced by the death of her father. Following the set pattern, she came for treatment and stayed as a Jungian convert after her recovery. According to Anthony, their professional relationship turned personal around the time that Jung was going through his seismic breakup with Freud and beginning the deep and difficult exploration of his own unconscious that would become The Red Book and set the foundation for his lifetime's work. It was this last event that would establish their close relationship. 'For it was to Toni that he turned as he began his descent into the dark, largely unexplored realms of the unconscious,' Anthony writes. 'In essence, she had to become his analyst.' Wolff would go on to become one of his primary assistants and his muse before becoming a professional analyst herself. While Wolff would work mostly within the Jungian model—unlike Spielrein, who also pursued inquiries outside of it—she was critical in developing a framework that addressed how Jung's idea of individuation specifically applied to women. She is best known for a paper she published in 1956 titled, 'Structural Forms of the Feminine Psyche.' When it comes to Jung's ideas, both Shamdasani and Fischer say that what the scholarship around the Jung women shows is that Jung was not on a solo intellectual journey. His work was collaborative, both in its nature and in the necessity for Jung to see that the ideas he was generating based on his own unconscious work were replicable in others. 'I think with every individual story that is being more profoundly researched, it becomes clear that [Jung] wasn't just a solitary genius working everything he ever wrote out from his inner self,' Fischer says. 'He operated in dialogue not only with his soul, but also with the people around him…I see much of it is an interplay, and it's sometimes hard to really pin it down to one person or the other as being the sole original originator of a concept or of an idea.' Emma Jung, Spielrein, and Wolff aren't the only three women whose collaborations and ideas touched Carl Jung and who deserve their own spotlight. Their stories show that the work unpacking the lives and intellectual worlds of the early women of psychoanalysis will only lead to a deeper, richer understanding of the intellectual history of the field As Emma wrote to her husband on February 5,1902: 'The world is full of the enigmatic and the mysterious, and people just live their lives without asking many questions…O who could know much, know all!'
