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With his chaotic absurdist performances of motorized machines, Swiss artist Jean Tinguely embraced both the principle of entropy and the noise of contemporary society to create a disruptive form of artistic expression that parodied automation, consumer culture and the art world itself. A pioneer of multimedia and multidisciplinary approaches, Tinguely worked with scrap metal, discarded materials and industrial parts, aligning with Dadaist traditions while pushing them into more radically experimental territory. His work dissolved the boundaries between material, language and public interaction, anticipating both contemporary media art and relational practices. The climax of his oeuvre, Homage to New York (1960), famously self-destructed—partially exploding in the sculpture garden of the Museum of Modern Art. It was an explicit attack on the mechanization of labor, institutional authority and the commodification of art, rejecting permanence and objectification in favor of process, failure and spectacle.
This year, 2025, marks the 100th anniversary of his birth—a milestone certain to prompt renewed interest in his multifaceted practice through exhibitions, retrospectives and critical reassessments. Since its opening in 1996, Museum Tinguely in Basel, Switzerland, has played a central role in preserving and promoting the artist’s legacy while becoming a fixture of the annual art world pilgrimage to Basel, thanks to its progressive programming and ambitious commissions. Located on the banks of the Rhine, the museum houses the world’s largest collection of Tinguely’s kinetic works—218 sculptures spanning from his early reliefs and 1960s collaborations to the darker, more monumental machines of the 1970s. More than half of these works are regularly on view and kept in working order, sustaining the spirit of movement, instability and joyful collapse that defined his vision.
For the centennial of Jean Tinguely’s revolutionary legacy, Observer spoke with Museum Tinguely director Roland Wetzel about how the artist’s disarmingly playful, radically innovative and still strikingly relevant work continues to meet contemporary societal needs and how the museum’s program keeps it alive by engaging artists who share his boundary-blurring, multimedia spirit.
For Wetzel, two perspectives connect the museum’s exhibition program with Tinguely’s legacy. “One reaches back to Dadaism and Marcel Duchamp, where fundamental questions about what art is were absolutely vital to a younger generation of artists,” he explains. “The other is that we’re still living in a time comparable to the 1960s. I’d say we are in a new epoch that began around that time, when artists started asking themselves what role they could and should play in society.”
Tinguely was never a classical modernist bound by the fixed framework of modern art. “He constantly tried to reach beyond it—to connect with people, to expand his audience and to make his work relevant to everyday life,” Wetzel says. That impulse feels especially resonant today, when many artists are again considering where we stand, how we live and how art can meaningfully enter that conversation. “Tinguely always opened his art to daily life, and I think that’s something essential in his practice.”
Tinguely also embraced accident and chance. He rejected the idea of a pre-established script or fixed concept, choosing instead to surrender to possibilities that emerged in the process itself—as the work interacted with its surroundings, its context and the world at large. He welcomed this dialectical relationship between the work and the world. In that sense, his practice anticipated what we now call relational art: it invited participation not only from viewers but also from the environment, always seeking dialogue with its context. His art was never a static object—it was alive, contingent, responsive.
Wetzel also points out how deeply collaborative Tinguely’s process was. “A lot of his work didn’t come out of a studio in isolation—it came out of interactions with friends, other artists, curators,” he explains. “He was involved in organizing, curating and building ideas together. That was a core part of his practice.”
For the centenary, the museum recreated Tinguely’s art ghost train, reimagined as a large-scale dynamic installation designed by British artist Rebecca Moss and Swiss artist Augustin Rebetez. In a nostalgic return to traditional lunapark attractions, Scream Machines takes visitors on a haunting journey through demons, monsters and other eerie figures designed by the artists, paying homage to Le Crocrodrome de Zig et Puce, the 1977 work Tinguely created with Bernhard Luginbühl, Daniel Spoerri and Niki de Saint Phalle for the opening of the Centre Pompidou in Paris. That historic project was spearheaded by Pontus Hultén, the legendary museum director who championed Tinguely throughout his career. An exhibition currently on at the Grand Palais in Paris explores the creative partnership between Hultén, Tinguely and de Saint Phalle.
In researching this installation, Wetzel was struck by the extent of Tinguely’s involvement in the original Pompidou project. “He wasn’t just one of the participating artists—he helped coordinate people, manage finances, source materials,” Wetzel explains. “His role went far beyond that of a traditional artist. He was always crossing boundaries, thinking beyond the usual frameworks, reaching into new territories.”
The installation has been a major success with audiences of all ages, showing that Tinguely’s playful chaotic spirit still resonates in an era often numbed by media overstimulation, societal alienation and both emotional and intellectual disaffection. “With this project, we’ve been able to reach an even broader audience,” Wetzel notes. “While our museum already draws a diverse public, the Ghost Train connects on another level. It’s playful, it’s accessible—you don’t need any prior knowledge to have a meaningful art experience.” For Wetzel, this kind of crossover is exactly what Tinguely envisioned—especially in his desire to reach children. “Tinguely always said children were his most important critics. If it works for them, it can work for many others, too. His art was meant to operate on multiple levels, and we’ve really tried to carry that thinking forward.”
Interaction with the broader public—and with public life itself—was central to Tinguely’s practice. Accessibility and engagement, even beyond the confines of the art world, remain priorities for the museum’s programming today. Part of its identity lies in creating spaces where people of all ages can encounter art in playful, open-ended ways. “We believe it’s just as important to be welcoming to older audiences and to offer meaningful experiences to people of all generations,” Wetzel says. “That openness is something we care deeply about.”
One earlier project at Museum Tinguely involved collaborating with window-front designers. “When you do an exhibition in a shop window, you reach a completely different audience—and it’s visible 24/7 in the public space,” he explains. “These might seem like small interventions, but they’re incredibly effective ways to expand access. And that’s something Tinguely always tried to do.”
Today, the museum serves several publics—it’s not just one audience, Wetzel clarifies. As he notes, the museum is often a place where people—especially children—experience art for the first time. “That was important to Tinguely, and we’ve really built on that,” he says, adding how programming for young children begins as early as age two. “They can come in, be active, play, explore—and leave with a positive, hands-on experience of what art can be. That kind of accessibility, that invitation to engage through the senses, is something quite unique. I don’t know many other museums that offer the same potential for early connection.”
The museum’s dedicated Art Education Department is one of the central pillars of its mission. It collaborates not only with local schools but also with institutions such as the High School for the Arts and the High School for Music, fostering a dense and long-standing network across Basel’s educational and cultural ecosystems.
At the same time, the museum draws international visitors—especially during Art Basel—for its special exhibitions. Museum Tinguely typically stages four major shows per year, which can be as ambitious as “Midnight Zone,” Julian Charrière’s immersive journey into the abyssal mysteries of the ocean and ecological awareness, on view through November 2.
Set to be unveiled at the end of September, the museum’s next exhibition will feature Scenes from the Invention of Democracy, a poignant video installation by Austrian artist Oliver Ressler that interrogates what democracy still means in a world where the term is increasingly emptied of substance. A work and a question that feel more urgent than ever, as democratic rights and civil liberties are steadily eroded across multiple countries, with national politics veering toward authoritarianism dressed up as conservatism and protectionism.
Opening in December is an extensive survey dedicated to the underrecognized yet quietly brilliant Chinese American artist Carl Cheng, “Nature Never Loses.” Spanning six decades of work, the exhibition highlights Cheng’s pioneering investigations into the intersection of art and ecology, his questioning of institutional relevance and his prescient explorations of technology’s role in society. Organized by The Contemporary Austin in partnership with Museum Tinguely, the Institute of Contemporary Art at the University of Pennsylvania and Bonnefanten in Maastricht, the show underscores the international reach of the museum’s program. In recent years, this model of cross-institutional collaboration—pooling resources and cutting costs while mounting ambitious projects—has become a strategic hallmark of Museum Tinguely’s approach.
“When I started here 16 years ago, we focused more on Tinguely’s role models and his historical context,” Wetzel explains. “But increasingly, we’ve been engaging with contemporary artists who reflect on and respond to Tinguely’s practice from today’s perspective. That feels more relevant—and more compelling—for a younger generation.”
Yet despite Tinguely’s pioneering and playful use of technology, Museum Tinguely remains focused on more materially and sensorially anchored forms of artistic expression. While the museum doesn’t reject digital work entirely, it isn’t a central focus for now, the director explains. For Wetzel, it remains crucial to create moments of real presence—tactile, embodied encounters that happen in and around the museum. “As so much of life is already spent in front of screens, it feels even more vital to offer a more comprehensive, embodied experience,” he says. “Whether it’s through Tinguely’s kinetic works or our special exhibitions, we want visitors to engage physically, emotionally and socially.”
Today, the museum plays multiple roles within Basel’s art ecosystem, Wetzel notes. It can be a place to spend a leisurely Sunday afternoon, but it also aims to be politically and socially relevant—whether through exhibitions or a year-round calendar of talks, panels and performances. “Our programming is quite wide-ranging,” he says. “We don’t focus on blockbuster shows. We focus on education, accessibility and making art approachable.”
Asked about the evolving role of museums in society, Wetzel stresses the importance of a clear ethical compass. For him, the idea that we can live together in a better way is a crucial starting point. “It’s not about making grand gestures, but about taking small, meaningful steps: creating space for people to come in, learn, reflect on their own lives and share those reflections with others,” he explains. “That’s how communities are formed—and I believe that’s something museums can and should help facilitate.”
In Wetzel’s vision, the museum must function as a public platform—a space for genuine exchange. In recent years, that commitment has expanded into talks, performances, concerts and events that deepen and broaden the exhibition experience. “Over time, our role has evolved,” Wetzel says. “Maybe 20 or 30 years ago, it was just about putting on exhibitions. Today, museums need to operate as public platforms—even at a grassroots level—to foster participation, welcome diverse communities and enable open dialogue,” he adds. This includes making room for different political perspectives while also being willing to take a stance. “In times like these, I think it’s essential that we speak up, stay relevant and above all, create spaces where people can come together.”
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Elisa Carollo
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