Page 115 - Winter Issue

How did your journey into art begin, and what originally drew you to painting?
For as long as I can remember, I have expressed myself through painting. As a small child, I started drawing and
painting on the walls of my room one day because there was no paper available. After about a month, the walls had to
be re-painted because there was no more space. After that, however, I was never allowed to use them as a painting
area again; my parents had forbidden it. Art is an important part of my life. However, it wasn't a given that I would
choose a professional career as an artist, especially as my family didn't react very enthusiastically when I told them
about it. But I always knew that this was my future and I didn't let myself be dissuaded. To finance my studies and
make ends meet afterward, I had a few part-time jobs. Meanwhile, I can devote myself completely to art. Growing up in
Berlin in the 2000s also impacted my choice of career. The diversity of people in the city, and the various cultural
influences – all inspired me immensely and I felt the desire to capture and process those influences artistically. As I am
a hypersensitive person, I sometimes seem withdrawn to others. It wasn't until I started studying art that I occasionally
was able to talk about topics that were relevant to my artistic work, as I had finally found some like-minded people at
university. Another influential factor was my father's library, which I had access to at all times. It contained books on
Rembrandt, Goya, Kokoschka, and Degas – to name just a few.
Which historical or contemporary artists do you feel most connected to, and how have they impacted your
creative approach?
There are quite a few. Ultimately, every artist is significant in their own time. I feel most connected to those artists
whose works I recognize as being strong and true and nothing about them can be questioned. These are the
outstanding works that keep me going for weeks after visiting an exhibition. I felt this way for the first time when I saw
Pablo Picasso's “The Yellow Sweater”. Later I noticed this with one of Claude Monet's water lily paintings: That was in
2004 in an exhibition of works from New York's Museum of Modern Art at Neue Nationalgalerie in Berlin. But
contemporary art also has this effect from time to time; most recently it was a work by the Polish painter Andrzej Fogtt
that fascinated me.
Your work has been compared to that of artists like Cy Twombly and Francis Bacon. Do you find these
comparisons meaningful, or do they sometimes restrict interpretation?
As the German philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer once said: “What the heart resists, the head does not accept.” I think
many works by the two mentioned artists are outstanding. When art critics compare my oeuvre with that of Bacon and
Twombly, I'm elated, of course.
Your work is known for being conceptually layered and visually complex. How do you balance these elements
to engage and challenge viewers?
That's a tough question, and I've spent several years finding an answer to it. One day, I had the idea to write it on the
backsides of my paintings. The thing is, however, that I couldn't reveal it all at once. Thus, on each of the backsides, I
only wrote three words and one number. So, to solve the enigma, viewers would have to see as many as possible of
my paintings, turn them around, and combine all the fragments. –– But seriously, it's a secret recipe. Streng geheim!
The arpeggio painting technique you developed is unique in its layering of diluted oil paints. Could you
elaborate on this process and its effect on your compositions?
Imagine an arpeggio chord: The notes sound immediately after the other, so they can be heard individually, but they
still form a harmony. By using the arpeggio painting technique, in which the paint is applied in wafer-thin layers, one on
top of the other, I can relate all colors and shapes of the painting to each other. As a result, they sound together – but
each layer also has its own sound. The technique requires a high degree of precision and takes a lot of time. I
sometimes spend several months on one painting. What’s more, if I notice during the process that the layers of paint
don’t sound together as planned, I have to determine whether I can rework them so that I still obtain the desired result.
However, this doesn’t always succeed because overpainting might ruin the transparency.
How do you see the role of art in addressing urgent environmental and social concerns today?
Art offers one of the last remaining spaces for open, constructive dialog; almost all other areas of discourse - whether
politics or the global economy - have so far failed to produce any viable solutions to urgent social and environmental
problems. One of the reasons for this is the ever-increasing polarization and the power constellations cemented by it. In
this respect, art opens a window in the wall beyond which our future lies. Those who look at works of art may therefore
find a way to prepare themselves for what awaits us - or even take the initiative to shape the future in a positive way. It
is important to note however that art does not have to do any of this; it does not have to fulfill a social mission per se. It
can simply exist without being bound to a specific purpose.

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