18. – 27.9.2026

Opening Thu 17.9. 17-19

When I paint, I do not always know what I am doing or why. Only upon viewing the finished image I begin to understand something of it. I would say my paintings are essentially intuitive, yet they take on multiple meanings as the process unfolds. Lately, I’ve been thinking about the garden as both concrete and metaphorical place. You might see it or not.

I often find that the works stir philosophical reflection within me. Like this time, I think of a painting as akin to a poem: a fragmented expression of a fallen world that, like a magnet, strives for unity and connection. It does not know what it is reaching for, yet it tremblingly gropes toward wholeness and others of its kind. Fractures or artificially joined elements within the painting may also subtly strive to pull apart, as if their true origin in the chaotic flow resists being revealed at first glance. At times, these fragments drift from one painting to another, leaving behind traces of themselves. Also, it now seems that I have been particularly interested in different possibilities and scenarios: the way things might unfold, and the spaces that exist between what is and what could be.

On a more general note about my work, one can see there influences from ancient mythologies as well as biblical narratives. I am interested in the ability of old stories to convey something essential about humanity and what we strive for. I tend to reflect on the necessity of these aspirations. I also explore the tension between the sacred and the secular, and its visual expression through symbolism, gestures, color, and elements of nature. I am especially inspired by medieval and Renaissance painting, where the sacred and the human appear side by side.

So what is Spirit Gardening? Just a pair of words that I picked from a novel, that capture the vague sense of something otherworldly meeting this earthly dwelling place.