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Beastie Boys' Mike D Redefines Family in Frankfurt's Bold New Art Show

A hip-hop legend and a museum break tradition to celebrate fleeting bonds and artistic kinship. Step inside a world where collaboration becomes family.

The image shows a poster advertising the Society of Art by Alphonse Mucha. It features a vibrant...
The image shows a poster advertising the Society of Art by Alphonse Mucha. It features a vibrant illustration of three people, each with their own unique style and color palette. The text on the poster reads "Society of Art" in bold, black lettering. The background of the poster is a bright yellow, adding to the cheerful atmosphere of the image.

Beastie Boys' Mike D Redefines Family in Frankfurt's Bold New Art Show

Of course, no one should expect Mike D to provide a manual for anything. The musician—co-founder of the Beastie Boys and now co-curator of "Mishpocha: The Art of Collaboration" at the Jewish Museum Frankfurt—comes across as unpretentious at the press conference for the exhibition's opening. Despite the fame and media buzz, the Yiddish word for family sets the tone.

Two years ago, the New York native didn't just visit the hip-hop exhibition at Frankfurt's Schirn Kunsthalle. He also let museum director Mirjam Wenzel guide him through the Museum Judengasse. He learned a great deal there, says Mike D—real name Michael Louis Diamond—whose parents, the children of Eastern European immigrants, grew up in the Bronx.

Wenzel explains that the Jewish Museum Frankfurt had long wanted to explore this theme, not simply because of the Beastie Boys' star power. Conversations with Diamond came and went; plans were made, then canceled. Then, in a characteristically Frankfurt way—through friends of friends—a connection was rekindled.

Having grown up the son of an art dealer, Diamond may be more open to museums than some of his peers. In 2012, he already served as a guest curator at New York's MOCA. Since then, he has repeatedly collaborated with museums in various capacities.

No rigid rules

In a personal conversation later, Mike D admits he simply can't abide rigid rules dictating how things should be. He calls it a "fundamental life problem." He says he turned down many ideas—until the artist selection, exhibition design, and overall concept aligned with his vision of a museum show that wasn't a show in the traditional sense. Art should be seen, but above all, musical collaboration should have its place in the exhibition space, surrounded by concerts, performances, and workshops.

Alongside Diamond, numerous Frankfurt-based artists and creators contributed to Mishpocha, including Stefan Weil of Atelier Markgraph, who designed much of the technical and visual architecture, and James and David Ardinast of the IMA Clique.

Asked how Jewish this exhibition should be—here, in Frankfurt—each participant would likely give a different answer. Diamond, born in 1965, stresses that while he grew up in a culturally Jewish metropolis, he is by no means religious. His perspective is that of a second- or third-generation New Yorker.

Raised in an environment where Jewish life was simply a given, he resists reducing identity to a single prefix in every discussion. To this day, he bristles at how his band was once labeled a "Jewish rap group" in Germany.

Bands as family

While the Frankfurt exhibition revolves around the titular family, it is by no means limited to blood relations—it equally embraces chosen families, refuge families, and the fleeting bonds formed through artistic and musical collaboration.

Origin, Diamond suggests, is often plural—geographic, ideological, a mosaic of displacements and safe havens. These are universal, connective themes.

Working alongside him is curator Franziska Krah, who, together with Diamond, visited artists in their studios, proposed works, and selected pieces for Mishpocha. Beyond a vast sound installation by Jan Ove Hennig—comprising an astonishing 1.344 million minutes of diverse voices—visual art dominates. Nirit Takele's paintings and Shimon Wanda's graffiti reflect their biographies, caught between identities: in Ethiopia, they were "the Jews"; in Israel, "the Ethiopians."

Jan Zappner's photo series "Mischpoche – Being Jewish, however" explores his own roots and those of others, including Mike D's. Beatrice Moumdjian's three-dimensional engagement with her family photo archive stands out, as does Ira Eduardovna's video work—projected onto partially unfolded particleboard—recreating her family's emigration from Uzbekistan to Israel. Objects are named in Russian and packed as if on an assembly line.

Performance and music weave through it all.

The car's paint shimmers seductively, its surface etched with golden figures by Hetain Patel, a London-based artist of Gujarati descent who will also travel to the exhibition for a live performance during its run.

The music playing at a measured volume through one of the galleries was autonomously selected by Diamond. For this, he deliberately chose hip-hop, techno, punk, and riot grrrl—genres that define the space. Alongside Courtney Love, the lineup includes the German band Parole Trixie, among others.

Archival footage of the singer circulates as an analog testament to a subculture, projected around an oversized mixing console. The skepticism toward the institution of the museum is real: while some artists today will only exhibit their work under the sterile conditions of a White Cube, Jennifer Finch—Love's former companion and onetime bandmate—took the opposite stance. Only the open presentation on large screens amid loud music finally convinced the musician and photographer to participate. Representing Frankfurt's once-thriving techno nightlife, footage of Sandra Mann plays across the projection.

Live Studio in the Exhibition

In the final room, little catches the eye at first—except for the orange-tinted, pixel-inspired architecture. Yet this is where visitors might end up spending the most time: the live studio, equipped with numerous presets triggered by pads, intuitive enough for children and seniors alike.

In theory, many people could collaborate here simultaneously on beats, harmonies, vocals, and atmospheric sounds—an endless polyphony of possibilities, mathematically speaking.

The hardest task, as always, is making complexity seem simple. "Mishpocha" has become a lovingly crafted, deceptively straightforward exhibition. Ideally, says musician Michael Louis Diamond—aka Mike D—visitors will return again and again.

So step off your own patch of earth and into a world that forges connections where none were expected before.

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