It was in the 60s of the last century that the pores of our senses openend up. Was it the mescaline impregnated pictures of a Henri Michaux, was it the LSD-borne dreams of a Timothy Leary. Was it the wounds of the second world war, written down in the palm sized drawings of a »WOLS« (Wolfgang Schulze)
It was the high period of kinetics of a Jean Tinguely, of a Gerhard von Graevenitz, of the seriell paintings of a Victor Vasarely, generated from the value inverted pragmatism of emptiness of a Marcel Duchamp.
Everything screamed out for new art. Now it had to arrive, the biologically based kinetic. A word was spit out: Biokinetic. Realised for the first time in 1969 in the Musem Schloss Morsbroich of the city of chemistry, Leverkusen, the museum which had shortly before become a lanching pad into the infinite blue space of an Yves Klein.