Summary

Art is merely a label of no relevance according to the artist Christian Eisenberger. At the age of 40 he has created over 45,000 works. He deposited thousands of them on streets and squares, where anyone could gather them up. He defies galleries, art fairs and museums with his unrestrained production. His art runs rampant, eluding all control. In a milieu that desperately struggles for attention and recognition, Eisenberger again and again asks, "What really constitutes artistic freedom? And does it require artists at all?”