Visiting Painter and Sculptor Ana Saraiva in her Atelier in Hamburg
Text and photography by Nora Benz | Analog photography by Sophie Lösch | December 2021
When different currents, energies and influences flow together they become one and form a whole. Similarly, pieces of art are confluences of emotional, mental as well as technical fluxes reflecting the artist’s psychological and physical state. The paintings of Ana Saraiva are an extraordinarily expressive and sensitive manifestation of this. For what turned into a very personal interview, Articulate traveled to Hamburg and visited the sculptor and painter in her atelier.
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Is there anything in the process of painting that you don't like at all?
Basically it is the phase in the beginning when I need to find the forms. My paintings go through different phases during the painting process; these swirled forms were once completely different. There is always a basic form that I follow. And the most exhausting phase for me is the one in which I have to find the form which indicates the shapes for the smaller forms. By now this process is very intuitive. I used to do a lot more sketches but by now I also do these very large formats completely without sketches, just straight out of my head. I don't use a template anymore but that’s also why the initial process, until every corner is covered in paint, is relatively exhausting. When everything is in place, that’s where my freedom can develop from. But by then, the longest time has usually already passed. However, I find the processes before and after that phase insanely great: the stretching of the canvas, the priming, the mixing of the colors, and in the end, finding the final forms and elaborating them into detail - that's great. But the part in-between, funnily enough, the middle part, that’s what I don't like.
Basically it is the phase in the beginning when I need to find the forms. My paintings go through different phases during the painting process; these swirled forms were once completely different. There is always a basic form that I follow. And the most exhausting phase for me is the one in which I have to find the form which indicates the shapes for the smaller forms. By now this process is very intuitive. I used to do a lot more sketches but by now I also do these very large formats completely without sketches, just straight out of my head. I don't use a template anymore but that’s also why the initial process, until every corner is covered in paint, is relatively exhausting. When everything is in place, that’s where my freedom can develop from. But by then, the longest time has usually already passed. However, I find the processes before and after that phase insanely great: the stretching of the canvas, the priming, the mixing of the colors, and in the end, finding the final forms and elaborating them into detail - that's great. But the part in-between, funnily enough, the middle part, that’s what I don't like.
With regard to the forms you just mentioned that you work much more intuitively now than in earlier phases of your career. Did that develop simply because you gained more experience or was it a conscious decision to move away from working with sketches?
I would say that it was a process of liberation. I was trained as a wood sculptor and was accordingly educated very traditionally. During the apprenticeship I had to do an insane amount of copy making. But I quickly noticed that I work much better freehand. I would say that you're also right that this goes hand in hand with a certain confidence which I've developed over the last years. I also became more confident when it comes to coloring or my technique in general. At the same time, however, it is always important that you don't feel too confident in your work. Because otherwise it quickly becomes boring, which you can see in the paintings. You have to keep trying to find new ways regarding techniques, colors or formats. I try to challenge myself anew every time. That's why, for example, I currently work with small formats.
I would say that it was a process of liberation. I was trained as a wood sculptor and was accordingly educated very traditionally. During the apprenticeship I had to do an insane amount of copy making. But I quickly noticed that I work much better freehand. I would say that you're also right that this goes hand in hand with a certain confidence which I've developed over the last years. I also became more confident when it comes to coloring or my technique in general. At the same time, however, it is always important that you don't feel too confident in your work. Because otherwise it quickly becomes boring, which you can see in the paintings. You have to keep trying to find new ways regarding techniques, colors or formats. I try to challenge myself anew every time. That's why, for example, I currently work with small formats.
Where do you get the impulses from or find the ideas for what you want to try next?
Impulse is a very good word. It's always a question of where my input comes from. Often I find the motivation in exhibitions, in books or when talking to other artists. But also when I ask myself why I'm making art in the first place, what influenced me or what is influencing me right now. Trying new things is also connected to the question of what I've learned enough about. I've been doing these very big formats for the last 1.5 years but at some point I realized that I didn't challenge myself that much anymore. That’s not good because standing still is not good, being lazy is not good. I then also asked myself what the extreme other is, what I could do instead of the large formats. Then I started painting on much smaller canvases, for example. I also recently changed from acrylic to oil colors which was also a complete change. The colors and pigments behave quite differently. And I actually find a lot of inspiration and motivation, or rather the power, within me. I strongly believe that there is no place more exciting than yourself. I mean, that is also what Kammern (chambers), the series of paintings I am currently working on, is about. It has a very clear reference to the psychoanalytical reading. Psychoanalysis has been one of my main subjects for years.
Impulse is a very good word. It's always a question of where my input comes from. Often I find the motivation in exhibitions, in books or when talking to other artists. But also when I ask myself why I'm making art in the first place, what influenced me or what is influencing me right now. Trying new things is also connected to the question of what I've learned enough about. I've been doing these very big formats for the last 1.5 years but at some point I realized that I didn't challenge myself that much anymore. That’s not good because standing still is not good, being lazy is not good. I then also asked myself what the extreme other is, what I could do instead of the large formats. Then I started painting on much smaller canvases, for example. I also recently changed from acrylic to oil colors which was also a complete change. The colors and pigments behave quite differently. And I actually find a lot of inspiration and motivation, or rather the power, within me. I strongly believe that there is no place more exciting than yourself. I mean, that is also what Kammern (chambers), the series of paintings I am currently working on, is about. It has a very clear reference to the psychoanalytical reading. Psychoanalysis has been one of my main subjects for years.
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Do you remember how you first got access to the subject or how your interest for psychoanalysis developed?
Yes, so it definitely has to be mentioned that I'm originally from Brazil. Thus I grew up with a certain kind of spiritual education, with openness towards the inner life of oneself, and with the awareness of questioning meaning and sense. I think this one scene of Alice in Wonderland, my very first book as a little girl, is what describes the meaning of psychoanalysis for me personally, best. The most memorable scene for me is when Alice falls down the rabbit hole and she falls and falls until she finally realizes that she is falling. Full of fear, she begins to look at the things she encounters until falling seemingly becomes a natural state. This scene actually describes quite well what psychoanalysis - at least for me - is about. On the one hand, it is about appraisal and assessment, on the other hand, it is about the depth into which one has to dive in order to perceive the things that are flying around. I also believe that the first psychoanalytic experience often begins with pain. When you experience pain you wonder where the pain comes from. I think it was during my time as model and the apprenticeship that I first found real access to my psyche because I was inevitably confronted with myself all day. For the first time in my life, I truly started to go to the pain in order to see where it came from. In the course of that I had my first contact with meditation and slowly but surely yoga, far eastern philosophy and so on. I don't thematize that in my work as a motif - it’s my own private topic - but I'm sure that it strongly influences my paintings. That's also how the title Kammern came into being. But I have always been extremely fascinated by psychoanalysis and the human psyche. I think most people are interested in that. My early works were also about this very thing. Back then during my apprenticeship (between 2013 and 2016), it was mainly about the body of the woman under psychoanalytical aspects in society.
Yes, so it definitely has to be mentioned that I'm originally from Brazil. Thus I grew up with a certain kind of spiritual education, with openness towards the inner life of oneself, and with the awareness of questioning meaning and sense. I think this one scene of Alice in Wonderland, my very first book as a little girl, is what describes the meaning of psychoanalysis for me personally, best. The most memorable scene for me is when Alice falls down the rabbit hole and she falls and falls until she finally realizes that she is falling. Full of fear, she begins to look at the things she encounters until falling seemingly becomes a natural state. This scene actually describes quite well what psychoanalysis - at least for me - is about. On the one hand, it is about appraisal and assessment, on the other hand, it is about the depth into which one has to dive in order to perceive the things that are flying around. I also believe that the first psychoanalytic experience often begins with pain. When you experience pain you wonder where the pain comes from. I think it was during my time as model and the apprenticeship that I first found real access to my psyche because I was inevitably confronted with myself all day. For the first time in my life, I truly started to go to the pain in order to see where it came from. In the course of that I had my first contact with meditation and slowly but surely yoga, far eastern philosophy and so on. I don't thematize that in my work as a motif - it’s my own private topic - but I'm sure that it strongly influences my paintings. That's also how the title Kammern came into being. But I have always been extremely fascinated by psychoanalysis and the human psyche. I think most people are interested in that. My early works were also about this very thing. Back then during my apprenticeship (between 2013 and 2016), it was mainly about the body of the woman under psychoanalytical aspects in society.
I think your color compositions are extremely interesting and beautiful. How do you choose the colors and what are your thoughts behind the color compositions?
Funnily enough, this dark series, Kammern, began during the first Covid lockdown. Even though I painted much more colorfully before, I wouldn’t say that the lockdown made me so dark. The very first of this series, Kammern I, was done when the academy opened again the first day after the first lockdown. At that time I had my studio at the Academy of Fine Arts in Munich and as the academy was closed during the lockdown I was not allowed to paint for two months. When I was allowed back in, I literally exploded and painted my first dark painting within two days. I realized that this was much more authentic and that these dark paintings were the most authentic thing I had done so far. I also see darkness as a friend and think it's destructive when we only strive for light and think that's all we are. Honestly, I have such destructive sides to me and I think every human has those; I think it's unhealthy to hide them. Similarly with death. It’s part of life. I am sure this life is only temporary. No matter what comes after. And that's what my paintings deal with, too. In my latest exhibition Kosmos.Chaos which I did together with Tronje Thole van Ellen at NEUWorkshop in Munich, we juxtaposed this; Cosmos and Chaos was the concept. A friend of mine who came to the exhibition said, I think Tronje paints the present, what is happening right now, the whole chaos, the flood, the drama; it’s so lively, so gloomy, everything is just so much and so loud. And you Ana, you paint the future, when all this is over. Hearing this was so beautiful. That’s why it belongs together. From chaos, the cosmos is born. They are mutually dependent. You can't have one without the other.
Funnily enough, this dark series, Kammern, began during the first Covid lockdown. Even though I painted much more colorfully before, I wouldn’t say that the lockdown made me so dark. The very first of this series, Kammern I, was done when the academy opened again the first day after the first lockdown. At that time I had my studio at the Academy of Fine Arts in Munich and as the academy was closed during the lockdown I was not allowed to paint for two months. When I was allowed back in, I literally exploded and painted my first dark painting within two days. I realized that this was much more authentic and that these dark paintings were the most authentic thing I had done so far. I also see darkness as a friend and think it's destructive when we only strive for light and think that's all we are. Honestly, I have such destructive sides to me and I think every human has those; I think it's unhealthy to hide them. Similarly with death. It’s part of life. I am sure this life is only temporary. No matter what comes after. And that's what my paintings deal with, too. In my latest exhibition Kosmos.Chaos which I did together with Tronje Thole van Ellen at NEUWorkshop in Munich, we juxtaposed this; Cosmos and Chaos was the concept. A friend of mine who came to the exhibition said, I think Tronje paints the present, what is happening right now, the whole chaos, the flood, the drama; it’s so lively, so gloomy, everything is just so much and so loud. And you Ana, you paint the future, when all this is over. Hearing this was so beautiful. That’s why it belongs together. From chaos, the cosmos is born. They are mutually dependent. You can't have one without the other.
But back to the question about my colors: I discovered this darker color scheme for myself because it is closer to being honest, to being authentic and further away from being pleasing. The dark color scheme gives me so much more room to explore and discover than the pastels I did before. In terms of coloring, I think I am definitely also influenced a lot by Surrealist, dark romance painters. These paintings are usually also very very dark and deal with the subject of consciousness. Someone who knows me very well once said that when he closes his eyes, he sees me in shades of Aubergine. And I think that has a lot to do with my coloring, too - taking an honest step towards authenticity.
It's always a challenge to bring your work across emotionally but still on a scientific level. I guess this is also reflected in the tremendous effect my paintings have on the recipients. Most of the reactions to my paintings are very polarizing. On the one hand, people find my paintings extremely beautiful and aesthetic and can completely lose themselves in them. Many people also become calm and are drawn into the paintings. And on the other hand, there are people who can't look at the paintings because they are too loud. A client of mine once said that the paintings are too close to herself and that they show her things she doesn't want to see, that is, they show a part of her that she doesn't want to be true or for which she is not ready yet. And that's so beautiful because that's what the works are about. That also ties back into the theme of psychoanalysis.
It's always a challenge to bring your work across emotionally but still on a scientific level. I guess this is also reflected in the tremendous effect my paintings have on the recipients. Most of the reactions to my paintings are very polarizing. On the one hand, people find my paintings extremely beautiful and aesthetic and can completely lose themselves in them. Many people also become calm and are drawn into the paintings. And on the other hand, there are people who can't look at the paintings because they are too loud. A client of mine once said that the paintings are too close to herself and that they show her things she doesn't want to see, that is, they show a part of her that she doesn't want to be true or for which she is not ready yet. And that's so beautiful because that's what the works are about. That also ties back into the theme of psychoanalysis.
You paint with relatively small brushes. How did that come about? Can you explain that a little bit more?
This has to do with a certain kind of deceleration, with slowing down. But it is also because the paintings are not exclusively based on emotional themes but also on topics that clearly arise from the outside world. In the last year or two, safety has been a big issue on so many levels. Originally, the technique developed from another painting which I painted in a hostage-like state in order to force a kind of calmness - I mean, it is almost kind of manic to paint a 2 meter painting with brushes of these small sizes. You can see that calmness very strongly in the painting. At the same time, I tried to express a sense of safety in my paintings which seemed to had broken off from all corners. I also wanted to visualize or capture this moment of contraction, the place where it gets the tightest and narrowest. I am also interested in these extrem contradictions. I mean, it's actually completely stupid to work with such a decelerating technique in a time in which you're supposed to be super fast. Instagram, for example, is designed to be exactly that. It makes you want to feed the algorithm every day, and that’s crazy. And I think that has something to do with my technique as well. This deconstruction, the reassembly, the certainties and uncertainties, capturing all that visually is very important to me. But the technique is also a good way for me to go beyond my limits. Sometimes, of course, it's a pain in the ass. But it is also about overcoming and finding freedom in this lack of freedom. I also think you can see when a painting has been reworked over and over again. I know every square millimeter of my painting. I know every form, I know when it was created and how and what feelings or thoughts were predominant. I think it's also important for me not to work sloppily. That's not my way of working and doing. My work should be created exactly in the way it triggers emotions in the recipients in the end. I think otherwise it becomes difficult. So there again it's about authenticity. I don't have to work with such small brushes but I think it's part of my process that the paintings are created over months.
This has to do with a certain kind of deceleration, with slowing down. But it is also because the paintings are not exclusively based on emotional themes but also on topics that clearly arise from the outside world. In the last year or two, safety has been a big issue on so many levels. Originally, the technique developed from another painting which I painted in a hostage-like state in order to force a kind of calmness - I mean, it is almost kind of manic to paint a 2 meter painting with brushes of these small sizes. You can see that calmness very strongly in the painting. At the same time, I tried to express a sense of safety in my paintings which seemed to had broken off from all corners. I also wanted to visualize or capture this moment of contraction, the place where it gets the tightest and narrowest. I am also interested in these extrem contradictions. I mean, it's actually completely stupid to work with such a decelerating technique in a time in which you're supposed to be super fast. Instagram, for example, is designed to be exactly that. It makes you want to feed the algorithm every day, and that’s crazy. And I think that has something to do with my technique as well. This deconstruction, the reassembly, the certainties and uncertainties, capturing all that visually is very important to me. But the technique is also a good way for me to go beyond my limits. Sometimes, of course, it's a pain in the ass. But it is also about overcoming and finding freedom in this lack of freedom. I also think you can see when a painting has been reworked over and over again. I know every square millimeter of my painting. I know every form, I know when it was created and how and what feelings or thoughts were predominant. I think it's also important for me not to work sloppily. That's not my way of working and doing. My work should be created exactly in the way it triggers emotions in the recipients in the end. I think otherwise it becomes difficult. So there again it's about authenticity. I don't have to work with such small brushes but I think it's part of my process that the paintings are created over months.
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How do you know that you are finished with a piece of work? What does it feel like?
It's an impulse and the thought that one more stroke would mess the painting up. But it’s also a feeling of excitement. When I realize I'm getting closer to the end, I start to develop an impatience towards the painting which gets stronger and stronger. And I start seeing every mistake. Eventually there comes a point at which I accept the painting exactly as it is. But it is also the self-confidence that you gain over time when you work with your hands and your body as your tools that you develop the feeling that if you do one more thing, you’ll screw up the work. I just get this feeling of having to stop, and then I put the painting away for days or weeks. A painting has to grow.
It's an impulse and the thought that one more stroke would mess the painting up. But it’s also a feeling of excitement. When I realize I'm getting closer to the end, I start to develop an impatience towards the painting which gets stronger and stronger. And I start seeing every mistake. Eventually there comes a point at which I accept the painting exactly as it is. But it is also the self-confidence that you gain over time when you work with your hands and your body as your tools that you develop the feeling that if you do one more thing, you’ll screw up the work. I just get this feeling of having to stop, and then I put the painting away for days or weeks. A painting has to grow.
How do you deal with mistakes during the working process?
Actually, there are no mistakes. Even though it just sounded like there are mistakes and I said that I see mistakes. Basically, I see the unfinished. Sometimes I get annoyed when I mess up during the process, but sometimes I also don’t care at all. It totally depends on my mood. In fact, when the shapes and forms emerge, I am constantly dissatisfied until the painting is finished. There are days when everything works fine and I make good progress and then there are days when I take the brush in my hand and ask myself why my hands don’t do what I want them to do. Then I have to work on something else. But this moment of genius which we have in our minds when we think of making art, when does this really happen? I have moments when it flows and everything goes well but in fact, painting for me is a job, it's a profession like any other. You have to get off your ass every day. Or you have to know when you don't have the energy for making art. I mean, you can't see the things you are not ready to see, yet. You can't pull on a little tree to make it grow faster. That's just the way it is. It's like that in painting, and I think it's like that regarding every aspect of life. And I think that's the tricky thing.
Actually, there are no mistakes. Even though it just sounded like there are mistakes and I said that I see mistakes. Basically, I see the unfinished. Sometimes I get annoyed when I mess up during the process, but sometimes I also don’t care at all. It totally depends on my mood. In fact, when the shapes and forms emerge, I am constantly dissatisfied until the painting is finished. There are days when everything works fine and I make good progress and then there are days when I take the brush in my hand and ask myself why my hands don’t do what I want them to do. Then I have to work on something else. But this moment of genius which we have in our minds when we think of making art, when does this really happen? I have moments when it flows and everything goes well but in fact, painting for me is a job, it's a profession like any other. You have to get off your ass every day. Or you have to know when you don't have the energy for making art. I mean, you can't see the things you are not ready to see, yet. You can't pull on a little tree to make it grow faster. That's just the way it is. It's like that in painting, and I think it's like that regarding every aspect of life. And I think that's the tricky thing.
Before our actual conversation we already briefly talked about your beginnings in Munich and about the seriousness of art and the artist’s life. Did you find it difficult to see yourself as an artist?
I think, what made it difficult for me to call myself artist, was the prestige that is attached to the title of the artist. I come from super simple backgrounds; I never experienced cultural or intellectual education. I first had to gain the self-confidence to call myself a painter, artist or whatever. This had to be trained. Even when I had my sculptor title I didn't use it because it felt weird to me. Sculptor was what it said on the paper but after three years of training I didn't feel like a sculptor. I think from the moment you take yourself seriously, you are taken seriously. This also means that you - just because you're not regarded as relevant to the system as for example someone working in childcare - don't deny yourself your own legitimacy in society with what you do. But overall, I am not a fan of these categories, painter, sculptor, artist etc. I also think it is absolutely stupid to downgrade or upgrade myself with academic degrees and titles. I sometimes wish I could not give me a title at all. Nevertheless, I started calling myself artist a few years ago, even though it felt weird at the beginning. But from the moment I decided that I was going to go this way, I introduced myself as artist, painter or sculptor. I am going this path and I am truly committed to it. That means that I get up every day at 6 or 7 am to do my shit. And I feel guilty if I don't. I think that's also why I had these problems with the term artist, because it's so stigmatized. It's absolutely crazy what some people think artists do all day. In their minds, artists are either super drunk all day or don't get anything done and are just lucky. But it's not like that at all. I've done other jobs before, but they just weren't for me. Therefore, I can now identify myself as an artist, because I truly believe it's my task.
I think, what made it difficult for me to call myself artist, was the prestige that is attached to the title of the artist. I come from super simple backgrounds; I never experienced cultural or intellectual education. I first had to gain the self-confidence to call myself a painter, artist or whatever. This had to be trained. Even when I had my sculptor title I didn't use it because it felt weird to me. Sculptor was what it said on the paper but after three years of training I didn't feel like a sculptor. I think from the moment you take yourself seriously, you are taken seriously. This also means that you - just because you're not regarded as relevant to the system as for example someone working in childcare - don't deny yourself your own legitimacy in society with what you do. But overall, I am not a fan of these categories, painter, sculptor, artist etc. I also think it is absolutely stupid to downgrade or upgrade myself with academic degrees and titles. I sometimes wish I could not give me a title at all. Nevertheless, I started calling myself artist a few years ago, even though it felt weird at the beginning. But from the moment I decided that I was going to go this way, I introduced myself as artist, painter or sculptor. I am going this path and I am truly committed to it. That means that I get up every day at 6 or 7 am to do my shit. And I feel guilty if I don't. I think that's also why I had these problems with the term artist, because it's so stigmatized. It's absolutely crazy what some people think artists do all day. In their minds, artists are either super drunk all day or don't get anything done and are just lucky. But it's not like that at all. I've done other jobs before, but they just weren't for me. Therefore, I can now identify myself as an artist, because I truly believe it's my task.
You have collaborated with other (befriended) artists in the past, such as most recently in the Kosmos.Chaos exhibition at NEUWorkshop. What do you appreciate most about collaborating with other artists ?
I love working with other people because I love the learning process and when you are collaborating with other artists you are constantly learning from each other; you influence each other. I think the most beautiful thing is that you can develop concepts together, create worlds and cross-fertilize each other. Christoph Schaller and all these people from NEUWorkshop, who I've known for a super long time, are the best example that if you don't only think about yourself, great things can be created. And that's what I really appreciate about collaborating. I also like the fact that you can be a helping hand for each other. Even if something doesn't work or there's friction, you still support each other. I also really appreciate that creative processes are stimulated, but also that you hear if something you do sucks. It's so important that someone tells you that he/she/they sees things differently. In this regard collaborations are great because you don't get stuck in your tunnel. It's always important to talk to people who look at your work from an outside view. I also strongly believe that when multiple energies come together, that's when more energy is created. It's just so cool what kind of things come about when you support each other. Things come into being that I would never have come up with on my own. During the last exhibition, for instance, we worked together with Lara Fritz who filmed and edited our teaser. Actually, we had only planned a teaser, but at some point we realized that her friend Milan Kreuzmüller works with signals which he sends into the camera to create glitches. We thought that this fits perfectly to our concept and consequently made a piece of art out of it. That was so nice as we could further involve NEUJetzt who also made the exhibition booklet with us. Then I also thought of Rosa Luckow, a media artist and friend of mine who does live coding. I then asked myself why live coding came to my mind and realized that this was the last piece in our concept, the last building block that made the whole exhibition concept complete. At first glance it may not seem like live coding and the paintings work together very well but in the end it was extremely coherent.
I love working with other people because I love the learning process and when you are collaborating with other artists you are constantly learning from each other; you influence each other. I think the most beautiful thing is that you can develop concepts together, create worlds and cross-fertilize each other. Christoph Schaller and all these people from NEUWorkshop, who I've known for a super long time, are the best example that if you don't only think about yourself, great things can be created. And that's what I really appreciate about collaborating. I also like the fact that you can be a helping hand for each other. Even if something doesn't work or there's friction, you still support each other. I also really appreciate that creative processes are stimulated, but also that you hear if something you do sucks. It's so important that someone tells you that he/she/they sees things differently. In this regard collaborations are great because you don't get stuck in your tunnel. It's always important to talk to people who look at your work from an outside view. I also strongly believe that when multiple energies come together, that's when more energy is created. It's just so cool what kind of things come about when you support each other. Things come into being that I would never have come up with on my own. During the last exhibition, for instance, we worked together with Lara Fritz who filmed and edited our teaser. Actually, we had only planned a teaser, but at some point we realized that her friend Milan Kreuzmüller works with signals which he sends into the camera to create glitches. We thought that this fits perfectly to our concept and consequently made a piece of art out of it. That was so nice as we could further involve NEUJetzt who also made the exhibition booklet with us. Then I also thought of Rosa Luckow, a media artist and friend of mine who does live coding. I then asked myself why live coding came to my mind and realized that this was the last piece in our concept, the last building block that made the whole exhibition concept complete. At first glance it may not seem like live coding and the paintings work together very well but in the end it was extremely coherent.
You once mentioned that you often take longer to make decisions but when you made your decision, it is the one. Can you describe how that feels like and is it also reflected in your work process?
It's like an inner guide, an inner strength. I have learned to go into myself and think about what I want and then go for it. I think the connection to yourself is the answer. That's also how I've achieved everything I've wanted to achieve so far. I think I am just more the type of person who thinks about decisions and works towards it. I think the important thing is not to stop, even if you don't know what it's going to look like in the end. Visualizing how it should feel like always helps me. I follow the feeling of how it should feel like in the end. And then you automatically sort out everything that doesn’t fit or doesn’t work for you. And that's how I do it with decisions. I actually also think it's really nice when people know what they don't like. I mean, how cool is it when you know what you don't want. Because then you can start sorting out. Basically, it's an exercise of concentration. It’s about focusing on things that are going well or that you want and feel. Linguistically, we are surrounded by a world where we're circling around things that aren't working. We get stuffed with a sense of guilt just because we exist. So I think it's extremely important to stick to the things that are going well and that you feel well. And this also entails training that feeling. And when you train to feel yourself and what’s good for you, then everything warns you when it's the wrong way and everything screams at you when it's the right way.
That was a lot of personal Ana-talk in the last hour, but this is basically also what my paintings are about. I try to shed light where you don't want to look. My paintings have these highlights as if a lamp would shine there. And I mean the question is also, what are you afraid of? There is nothing more than you. And, I mean, how cool is it when you overcome your fears? I refuse to believe that anything will just occur to me. I rather believe that I attract everything I need. These are thoughts and truths that are trendy again but they can also only be so popular because they are so universal. There are just things that we all know and that connect us. And I think, to get back to art, that's why people recognize themselves in my paintings. I don’t want to sound arrogant, but I'm sure that my paintings are in a certain way self-portraits of all of us. I think each of us finds his/her/their voice. And that brings us back to the question of the artist. If you've found your voice, if you know how and what your voice is, then no one can take that away from you.
It's like an inner guide, an inner strength. I have learned to go into myself and think about what I want and then go for it. I think the connection to yourself is the answer. That's also how I've achieved everything I've wanted to achieve so far. I think I am just more the type of person who thinks about decisions and works towards it. I think the important thing is not to stop, even if you don't know what it's going to look like in the end. Visualizing how it should feel like always helps me. I follow the feeling of how it should feel like in the end. And then you automatically sort out everything that doesn’t fit or doesn’t work for you. And that's how I do it with decisions. I actually also think it's really nice when people know what they don't like. I mean, how cool is it when you know what you don't want. Because then you can start sorting out. Basically, it's an exercise of concentration. It’s about focusing on things that are going well or that you want and feel. Linguistically, we are surrounded by a world where we're circling around things that aren't working. We get stuffed with a sense of guilt just because we exist. So I think it's extremely important to stick to the things that are going well and that you feel well. And this also entails training that feeling. And when you train to feel yourself and what’s good for you, then everything warns you when it's the wrong way and everything screams at you when it's the right way.
That was a lot of personal Ana-talk in the last hour, but this is basically also what my paintings are about. I try to shed light where you don't want to look. My paintings have these highlights as if a lamp would shine there. And I mean the question is also, what are you afraid of? There is nothing more than you. And, I mean, how cool is it when you overcome your fears? I refuse to believe that anything will just occur to me. I rather believe that I attract everything I need. These are thoughts and truths that are trendy again but they can also only be so popular because they are so universal. There are just things that we all know and that connect us. And I think, to get back to art, that's why people recognize themselves in my paintings. I don’t want to sound arrogant, but I'm sure that my paintings are in a certain way self-portraits of all of us. I think each of us finds his/her/their voice. And that brings us back to the question of the artist. If you've found your voice, if you know how and what your voice is, then no one can take that away from you.
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Art and NFTs, art and Artificial Intelligence, computer generated art etc. are an omnipresent topic at the moment. In your Kosmos.Chaos exhibition you also played with the combination of analog and digital. To what extent are art and AI, digital art, CGI, etc. an issue for you? Could you imagine combining your analog works with AI/digital tools or even make digital art yourself?
NFTs and AI art are very timely and exciting topics and I am also increasingly concerned with them, but not necessarily because it would be something for me, but because the politics behind it are interesting. I mean, NFTs are not art but rather an unforgeable currency. Thus, the art market may change, but not necessarily art itself. A painting can't be an NFT, a JPEG file of a painting can. That we are talking about NFTs in the mainstream of art is only a testimony to the capitalization of an attempt that was originally designed to undermine this system. Politically, I think, this is extremely interesting. But how does it change art? There are also very relevant and good things for artists within this system such as smart contracts. But again, this has nothing to do with art as such. If artists themselves write chains and do something with it, like for example selling bids and all those who own one can decide about the artist's next artwork, then I think it’s interesting. AI Art is basically a software program that has to be fed with attributes and properties in order to generate an image. And with the word generate we actually already come to the crucial linguistic difference: A human being creates, a machine generates. Of course, one could say that this might be very similar. Create, generate, what does it matter? A machine is fed with art history, just as we as humans are educated and shaped by it. But it is still not the same. The question is also, does art have to be a craft? In the end we always come back to the same dilemma: What is art? Where does it start, where does it end? CGI - from my personal point of view - is great; there are so many worlds that can be created based on the ideas and sketches made by humans. Maybe, one day, I would like to write a story and create the world for it. Maybe a digital visualization of my work would also be exciting, but I don’t know in what form; CGI would be the most likely. In fact, since I've started to think about this topic more, I've been asking myself how much conservatism I carry within me.
NFTs and AI art are very timely and exciting topics and I am also increasingly concerned with them, but not necessarily because it would be something for me, but because the politics behind it are interesting. I mean, NFTs are not art but rather an unforgeable currency. Thus, the art market may change, but not necessarily art itself. A painting can't be an NFT, a JPEG file of a painting can. That we are talking about NFTs in the mainstream of art is only a testimony to the capitalization of an attempt that was originally designed to undermine this system. Politically, I think, this is extremely interesting. But how does it change art? There are also very relevant and good things for artists within this system such as smart contracts. But again, this has nothing to do with art as such. If artists themselves write chains and do something with it, like for example selling bids and all those who own one can decide about the artist's next artwork, then I think it’s interesting. AI Art is basically a software program that has to be fed with attributes and properties in order to generate an image. And with the word generate we actually already come to the crucial linguistic difference: A human being creates, a machine generates. Of course, one could say that this might be very similar. Create, generate, what does it matter? A machine is fed with art history, just as we as humans are educated and shaped by it. But it is still not the same. The question is also, does art have to be a craft? In the end we always come back to the same dilemma: What is art? Where does it start, where does it end? CGI - from my personal point of view - is great; there are so many worlds that can be created based on the ideas and sketches made by humans. Maybe, one day, I would like to write a story and create the world for it. Maybe a digital visualization of my work would also be exciting, but I don’t know in what form; CGI would be the most likely. In fact, since I've started to think about this topic more, I've been asking myself how much conservatism I carry within me.
You only recently moved from Munich to Hamburg. Have many things from your Munich atelier moved with you? And is there anything in your atelier that you particularly like?
Not so much has moved with me from Munich to Hamburg but my books finally arrived. I guess I like the place at the window very much. I always put my meditation pillow there, light my candles and meditate. In this way I get myself ready in the morning and start the day. In general, I quite like the space as such. I feel like it has a good energy. I always imagined something like that. And when I moved in here and sat on my meditation pillow the other day I thought, wow, I was hoping that might happen some day. So you see, the visions you have can become reality if you just go for it.
Not so much has moved with me from Munich to Hamburg but my books finally arrived. I guess I like the place at the window very much. I always put my meditation pillow there, light my candles and meditate. In this way I get myself ready in the morning and start the day. In general, I quite like the space as such. I feel like it has a good energy. I always imagined something like that. And when I moved in here and sat on my meditation pillow the other day I thought, wow, I was hoping that might happen some day. So you see, the visions you have can become reality if you just go for it.
Do you have a favorite time to be in your atelier?
I do. Even though I ask myself every morning why I don't just keep sleeping. But my favorite time is just before 7 am when I start meditating; that’s the time I value. That's when I get ready for what comes during the day. But I also like the evenings. I like the beginning and the end of the day most.
I do. Even though I ask myself every morning why I don't just keep sleeping. But my favorite time is just before 7 am when I start meditating; that’s the time I value. That's when I get ready for what comes during the day. But I also like the evenings. I like the beginning and the end of the day most.
What are you currently working on?
At the moment I'm working on these small formats. I've just started the first one. At the same time, I'm also continuing to work on my series Kammern. Also, Kosmos.Chaos is a concept that continues to grow. It is Tronje's and my project but it is also designed to invite other artists. We already have a space here in Hamburg for an exhibition next year and we are working on an exhibition space in Berlin. Maybe there will also be another small exhibition towards the end of this year. I am also assisting Tronje at his solo exhibition Why do birds sing? at Barlach Halle K here in Hamburg. There is just so much to learn by assisting and then, as I've mentioned before, there is this magic in collaborating.
At the moment I'm working on these small formats. I've just started the first one. At the same time, I'm also continuing to work on my series Kammern. Also, Kosmos.Chaos is a concept that continues to grow. It is Tronje's and my project but it is also designed to invite other artists. We already have a space here in Hamburg for an exhibition next year and we are working on an exhibition space in Berlin. Maybe there will also be another small exhibition towards the end of this year. I am also assisting Tronje at his solo exhibition Why do birds sing? at Barlach Halle K here in Hamburg. There is just so much to learn by assisting and then, as I've mentioned before, there is this magic in collaborating.