What and why

WHY

Serious business. 

I’ve been nominated/won awards/did residencies/had international exhibitions/received grants for God knows what reason and yes, sometimes I do sell. All of the important “required” conditions I have met, though, there are still many interesting people to encounter, still many skills I’m lacking.

What I stand for? An unconditional maker who visualises a story of alienation and discrepancy in a consistency of the atelierpraxis. I don’t shout, but dig in and dig through The paradigms of life are tackled by my pencils, leftover scraps and other mans waste. It fuels my never-ending rebellion with conventions.

I am not slacking off in my refusal to please. No milking of century old winning images, no sipping of that wine of basal temptation. I refuse top dip in my magic hat full of tricks, smoke and mirrors. I refuse to conventionalise, abuse or ‘upcycle. My grandmother’s funny rug doesn’t need a concept to be crucified against a museums hall. I do not find resignation in what works, but strive to go uncomfortably close to the wound of what we are, do and loath. I pick off scabs and live by them. In fact, I seek it, I thrive off it, it feeds me.

I want to live and I want to live from what I make, stubborn as I am, I have no plan B, cause the alphabet was made to follow, and I want to make my own. I can and I do sleep in squads, I can and do eat out of dumps and I can, guess what, I do wash myself in public buildings. I have seen the night and made many questionable choices. But the only one that matters is that I chose to live for the making and the enjoying of art. And so, these are the things I bring into this world.

I know, trough trial, error and catastrophe who I am and I know what I stand for. No hot air, no empty promises. What you see is always part of a process, never an finality. In my search of new experiences, profound professionalism, knowledge and network, I send you my application and wish to encounter and enforce the same passion and drive.

Ich mag es wenn Sie füttert mich mit Geschichten über zerbröckelte Nüsse – The rat under my bed

WHAT

I state the following: What is mankind?


As if we can ever know them because we happen to be part of it.


Why is mankind? As if a reason to be should be needed since we already happen to be here.
How does mankind relate? As if people can conventionalise relations and interactions as a certainty to provide values and standards. Bah, it only takes a sliver of imagination while it could just as well be different. Confirming what already is institutionalised, is sleep-inducing and bad for your health.
I’d rather present a counterpoint, a reflection, a metaphor, an interpretation, a deformation of that what mankind sees as a given.


Armed with pencil and brush, churned paint and depraved textile, I explore the forms of these creatures who take a final stand to medio-, merito- and mediacracy.


To summarize: There is mankind and it is flawed.
To expedite: My acceptance and critique are transposed in my creations as second-rate scattershots. I don’t like to limit myself to conventions, so I don’t.


The line is the legend. The higher aim which scams the form of bodies as a guide to my process of expression.
I usually start from life model drawing and then gradually bring these sketches in hyperbole to the context of a new moment, story, abstraction and emotion.
Some who don’t survive my tempestuous temper or the ticking of time are boiled alive, mixed and kneaded into the humus of an artificial landscape. Decay and deprivation sing their enigmatic song in my makings.


Others I translate in paint as if they were letters that, away from a mere two dimensions, seek space, battle for a body and a constitution. They re-live the original drawing.


The pencil is a blissful tool, it can cut, it can caress, it can doubt. It can communicate in all languages, even with rats. Soak an eye.


For which I am grateful.


We see a glimpse of man-made nature in my drawings in there multiple forms. And the canvas, well, it is sewn together, torn, twisted and turned inside out. As is mankind.

Disclaimer: The collective is one solid mind. The I is the eye of a blind beholder with a silly hat.