I don’t confine my role as an artist, not out of a desire to avoid responsibility but because I see it as intertwined with my role as a human being. My work isn’t separate from who I am; it’s an integral part of a larger whole. I create with what I have, what I see, what I feel, I use all my senses. I also incorporate what I learn along
I don’t confine my role as an artist, not out of a desire to avoid responsibility but because I see it as intertwined with my role as a human being. My work isn’t separate from who I am; it’s an integral part of a larger whole. I create with what I have, what I see, what I feel, I use all my senses. I also incorporate what I learn along the way. Collaboration with other living and non-human forms is crucial to me, as it helps protect our shared space. Through my work, I aim to project these visions and open a dialogue, allowing my story to transform and evolve.
My work tells my story, but it has also been created to be seen, felt, and experienced by others. Through this interaction, it becomes something new- something I can learn from myself. I view my work as interconnected, because I believe in the interconnectedness of our world.
Sometimes, we encounter things that don’t require an explanation, or we simply feel no need to explain them. At other times, particularly when faced with the unexpected, we embark on a journey that opens new possibilities within us. I often call these serendipitous encounters the starting points of my new work.
We each have only one viewpoint, shaped by the unique combination of our experiences, DNA, and the practices we engage in daily lives.
When we look at something from a distance, it appears as a tiny dot or a blurred image. We cannot describe the details because we are not close enough to experience them.
I see the world similarly. My curiosity drives me to ask questions, until I feel close enough to truly start feeling something I didn’t understand before. This helps me feel connected to myself, to the world around me and to my work.
I find this continuous practice of empathy one of the most intriguing notions in life. We know we are all different, experiencing everything uniquely, yet we have this concept that allows us to come closer or distance ourselves, as we feel comfortable.
My art is personal, I have many ideas and concepts in progress simultaneously, some of which I have not yet realised- or perhaps never will. I like to work on something over a long period of time. I think it is important to step away, do something different and then come back with fresh eyes. I often see nature as my canvas. Nature cannot be rushed; it is unpredictable and there are processes invisible to our eyes that are happening at all times. We are so insignificant compared to nature; there is still so much to learn and discover. When using nature as part of my work, I try to collaborate with it- not harm or be selfish- but I also know that there is still much for me to understand.
Are We Disposable is a current theme of my practice, a narrative, projecting a personal loss and trauma but also inviting the viewers in, creating a collective space for reflection and transformation.
Sharing something ancient and something deeply rooted within us- a sense of belonging, a survival instinct - and an emotional connection.
Partially felled trees, standing seven meters high, in an irregular circle, in the middle of a deep forestland, wrapped in a white cloth, passed through the circle of seasons.
Projecting on past experiences and the impermanence of life.
Calm and almost sacred like space. Carefully gathered bed sheets around delicate bodies, creating wonder but also uncertainty. The mystery that lies beneath, the fragility of life and “every” living thing.
In a way the uniformly wrapped tree trunks are collectively looking like a palliative care unit. But there is no unified understanding of grief, mourning or even nature.
Wrapping is an act of care, metaphorically telling a story of looking after living and non-human forms, nearing the end of their lives.
The large-scale installation encourages ambiguity, viewers to engage, to bring their own experiences and interpretations to the space.
Blurring lines between public and private space, I am inviting to reconsider the perceptions of space, privacy but also the community.
Monumental tree trunks are a symbol of remembrance, but also a space for transformation, asking questions, what matters and what can we do?
September 2023
September 2023
October 2023
November 2023
December 2023
January 2024
Fiber as one of the oldest parts of human civilization is pushing me into new territories, exploring socio-cultural landscape.
I used a discarded yarn, once handled together with the previous generations to measure the distances between the trees. The fiber became a tool of reclamation of the territory, adjusting the displacement of my own identity. Asking how did I get here?
Fabric not about aesthetics only, is a medium that carries deep cultural, historical, and personal significance and allows to explore complex themes in new ways. Projecting on past experiences, reflecting on the impermanence of human nature. Fabric by its nature is prone, over time it can fade, fray and disintegrate, much like human life. This burial cloth I made for my mother whilst creating the project Are We Disposable, illuminates the use of fabric around the trees, its physical deterioration mirrors the inevitability of aging and mortality of humans. It also questions the actions of today, the longevity and wellbeing collectively. How are we related to its consumption?
Our vision which essentially remains old, shapes the transformation through our expectations closely related to where we are coming from, what we have experienced and how we have translated them. By using discarded materials, closely connected to human footprint on a larger scale, globally, I am opening a dialogue. Asking what can we do collectively?
Through the exploration of man-made fibers and the ones made by synthetic processes, I project on the very importance of our existence. How individual decisions impact us collectively.
Not intentionally trying to provoke a negative reaction, I am appreciating the effect the wrapping of the trees brought. Alongside with the curiosity and wonder it projected. Reflecting on uncertainty, an undercurrent of unsettling emotions in our interconnected terrain.
Questions our impact, our role and values. How does it affect the causes around us?
Is "We" a space, a local environment, familiar surroundings, economic environment or is "We" a global awareness?
An identity. What are the responsibilities in our socio-cultural landscape?
The surrounding nature creating a space of eternity, birds flying by, air so fresh, it seems to hold its breath. Awakening emotion through a distant sound of the ancient forest. The wonder between closeness and distance. Curiosity and vulnerability, hidden whispers of the wind, revealing the weathered surface of the cloth, tousling through the fabric, the opening of the inner circle, blurring the lines with the world.
The end of something significant in our lives can often leave us feeling disconnected and lost, but death can equally symolise transformation and change. most things in life are already here, we are just learning to notice them through the contradicting dialogues within us as we pass through these external experiences. Reviving the ambiguity of the larger scale, reflecting on protection and wonder, the mystery that lies beneath, the fragility of life and every living "thing". Are we consigned to the book of history or to the recycling bin?
The intricate connections between human and non-human forms. The balancing act between nature, human and technology.