Some works stay in the studio for a long time.
Not because I have forgotten them. Quite the opposite. They are often almost too present.
“Wrapped, protected, moved around”
Leaning against a wall. In a folder. Wrapped in bubble wrap.
Behind another work. Or in one of those places where I think: I really need to do something with that.
And then I walk past it for another three months.
That happens in a studio.
Part of my Icelandic Houses series has stayed with me in that way. Wrapped, protected, moved around, looked at again, stored again. Not because it was not good enough, but because I did not yet know what needed to happen with it.
Now I am looking again.
The First Opening
Opening wrapped work is always a bit of a situation.
Tape that refuses to let go. Corners that need careful hands. Paper that catches on everything. Glass that, of course, immediately gets a fingerprint on it. And meanwhile I am trying to stay calm, while actually I just want to see: what happens when this work appears again?
Because that is the interesting moment.
When a work has been out of sight for a while, I see it differently. Not better or worse. Just with different eyes.
Some works are quieter than I remembered. Others suddenly have more strength. Sometimes a detail catches me that I did not see before: a line, a stain, an edge, a little house holding its ground in far too much space.
That is what I am looking for now.
Not only what can become available, but mainly what still holds up.
Icelandic Houses and That Small House in Far Too Much Landscape
The Icelandic Houses works came from my travels through Iceland.
What touched me there was not only the landscape itself. Of course, it was vast. Raw. Windy. Sometimes almost ridiculously beautiful. But above all, those small houses in that enormous landscape stayed with me.
They seemed vulnerable.
And at the same time I thought: no, wait. They are standing there.
Against wind, stone, sky, distance. Small, but not pathetic. More stubborn. Present. As if they were saying: this is my place, do with that what you will.
That image stuck.
In the studio, those impressions became paintings, mixed media works and studies. Some works were shown. Some stayed in the archive. Some kept moving from one place to another, because I did not yet know whether they had to stay, could leave, or simply needed to wait a little longer.
Why I Do Not Want to Open the Archive All at Once
I do not want to open the studio archive all at once.
That does not fit.
It would quickly start to feel like a big clear-out, and that is not what I want. I am not emptying boxes because I need more space. Although, practically speaking, that would sometimes not be a bad idea.
But artistically, that is not what this is.
I want to see what still has strength. What still says something. What perhaps fits better now than it did then. And also: what I am ready to let go of.
That last part is just as important.
Some works still need to stay. Other works may go out into the world. To someone who sees them, feels them, hangs them, keeps them. Not as “leftover work”, but as part of my practice.
The first selection will include original works, studies, works on paper and later also selected fine art prints.
Studio Archive, Part 1
I am beginning with Icelandic Houses because this series touches exactly on something I keep returning to: small against vast. Shelter against openness. Vulnerability against strength.
A house in a landscape is never only a house to me.
It is a place. A border. A sign that someone has been somewhere, or wants to stay. Sometimes it is a shelter. Sometimes it is just a small stubborn thing in a world that is much larger.
I love that.
The small against the vast. The soft next to the raw. An image that seems quiet, but is actually standing quite firmly.
This is part 1 of opening my studio archive.
Not everything at once. No grand gesture of throwing the doors wide open. More like this: one folder, one work, one series, looking again.
A selected part of my studio archive will become available soon. Original works, studies, works on paper and selected fine art prints will be shared step by step.
If you would like to receive a first note when the archive opens, you can join the studio list.
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Fairy tale land
€ 110,00 -
Perspective – painting
€ 850,00 -
Blush – painting
€ 220,00 -
Lou in the morning – drawing
€ 110,00