Art

Anton Isaksson: Art Should Mirror Society  text Natalia Muntean To kick off Stockholm Art Week, we have asked a number of interesting people from the city’s art scene questions to explore their relationship to art and the city. Anton Isaksson, a creative, curator and co-founder of Betan Gallery, has presented over 30 artists globally. His artistic creations encompass various mediums, including oil, acrylics, video, performances, public installations, and textiles.   What is the story behind your exhibition during Stockholm Art Week?“Let’s see where our interests converge” is a collection of immaterial transactions. Textile works about perceived value, zero-sum games and transactional relationships. The exhibition is essentially about power. What isn’t? What inspired you to become an artist, and how has your artistic journey evolved?I guess that’s one of those things that just happens when there’s a need to create or express. I don’t know what else I would do. Maybe teach geography? Or history? What is your creative process like, and how do you approach developing new ideas and concepts for your work?I bring my notebook everywhere. When I fill it up, I get an exact copy. Usually, it takes about a month. The ideal notebook should be black, soft in an A5 format and it has to have rows since blank pages intimidate me. What role do you think art plays in society, and how do you see your work contributing to or challenging societal norms?If nothing else, the arts’ purpose should be to mirror society and contribute to it by boiling down complex ideas and making them accessible. That’s how I approach my work. It’s not necessarily about the art but more so about me translating an idea for it to get translated again by the observer. A beautiful process where the message is warped differently each time. Are there any particular themes or subjects that consistently appear in your work, and if so, what draws you to them?Black people. When I’m surrounded by my work I get this sense of belonging. All of a sudden, I’m in the majority. You don’t get that too often. Can you share a favourite spot in Stockholm where you go to find inspiration or recharge creatively?Badmintonstadion Skanstull. I don’t even play that much, it’s just a great atmosphere. The smell, the people, the sounds, the couches and the cheapest coffee in Stockholm (refills are free). Is there a Swedish artist who you find inspirational?Marcia Harvey Isaksson, Thea Olivares, Aron Bergdahl and Betan as a collective. What is your favourite bar or restaurant in Stockholm?Duvan Pub, without a doubt. They’ve fed me when I couldn’t. Superb service.

Picnics, Parties and Women: The Art of Caroline Wong text Natalia Muntean “I use colours as flavours,” says Caroline Wong about her works. Lively, colourful, and exuding a sense of carefree joy and bursting with lazy decadence, her paintings are created simultaneously, mostly at night, in the company of techno music. Born in 1986 in Malaysia, Wong now lives and works in London, where she challenges traditional, restricted representations of East Asian women through her work.At the heart of Wong’s oeuvre is a celebration and vivid exploration of the female experience, their friendships and their pleasure. “Every woman in my pictures is a real woman,” she states. She takes multiple photos of models, friends, and acquaintances, and later brings them to life on canvas. Occasionally, Wong becomes part of her art, inserting herself into her paintings, blurring the lines between artist and muse. Wong’s choice of subjects is deliberate and personal. “I don’t paint men because I feel I don’t know that subject. So I paint what I know. I paint women,” she explains.As the show’s title suggests, food is another central element in Wong’s art, symbolising indulgence and pleasure. “My art is very much tied to food,” she says, drawing parallels between the act of eating and the experience of creating art. Both, according to the artist, are about “giving into pleasure and detaching from the world.”In Wong’s paintings, viewers are offered a voyeuristic look into the vivid world of women as they surrender to the pleasures of life, laughing, chatting, and eating in the company of each other. “Picnics & Parties” is the artist’s first solo show in Sweden, after participating last year in a group exhibition “You Were Bigger Than the Sky, You Were More Than Just a Short Time,” and is on display at Gallery Belenius until 5 May 2024. Artwork photo by Graeme Duddridge and installation images by Ellinor Hall

Exploring the Artistry of Ellen Hedin: Where Function Meets Sculpture text Astrid Birnbaum Ellen Hedin, a Swedish furniture designer, goes beyond the boundaries between functionality and artistry through her innovative use of materials and a keen eye for contrasts. Ellen’s discernible penchant for contrasts manifests in her material selection, underscoring her profound affinity for the natural world. Her oeuvre serves as a conduit for elevating mundane existence into art, extracting the inherent magic permeating our daily lives. Through the infusion of organic elements into her pieces, she beckons viewers to contemplate the intricate interplay between materiality and life itself. – I am like a magpie, I collect things that stir something within me. Then the stick, the shell, or the deer skull can lie dormant, waiting for me, until suddenly one morning I wake up with an idea and understand how they fit together and how they should be used. I believe that all materials have an inherent history; it’s just about bringing them out, getting them to speak. Wood, steel, and bone can bear the memory of places, processes, and people. Ellen intricately weaves together the realms of function and sculpture in her furniture, acknowledging the inherent fusion within the broader artistic landscape. While she strives to create pieces that are either purely sculptural or purely utilitarian, her creations often embody a harmonious synthesis of both domains: – My hope is that people can recognise themselves in both a kind of melancholy but also in a romantic, somewhat mystical image of the world in my furniture. Someone once said that my furniture is more like artefacts than furniture, I thought that was a nice description, but for me, functionality is also important, I believe it deepens the connection. My furniture is both charged and to some extent also alive, it’s direct, both in the design and in the expression,” she shares. Through her work, she emphasises the vital role of human interaction, whether her pieces adorn domestic spaces or grace the walls of gallery exhibitions. This emphasis underscores the intrinsic value of functionality in her artistic practice, enriching the viewer’s experience with each encounter. One of Ellen’s most captivating creations, “Tell,” stands as a testament to her fervent storytelling and material exploration. Drawing inspiration from the rich tapestry of Swedish tradition, particularly the practice of divination with molten tin, this cabinet serves as a vessel for her personal narratives and cherished memories. – Tell was born on New Year’s Eve a few years ago. We predicted the upcoming year in tin. Naturally, I poured in the most tin and received the biggest prophecy of all. While everyone else was busy analysing their predictions, I had already begun to contemplate how I could use my prickly, fragile, yet also sharp and heavy lump of tin. Sometimes I have an almost childlike delight in certain things; this prophecy felt awe-inspiring, as if it carried a kind of meaning I couldn’t grasp. Within the intricate design of “Tell,” elements of childhood wonder, familial bond, profound narrative depth: – It wasn’t until I felled a tree for the first time some months later on my father’s farm in Färingsö outside Stockholm that I felt the same sensation again. I then understood that the large log I had felled was connected to the tin casting, that the materials were speaking to each other and were meant to be together. Beyond her individual artistic pursuits, Ellen is also an integral part of Misschiefs, where she maintains her studio: – Misschiefs has provided me with a sense of community and a studio, which allows me to focus on my artistic work and learn a great deal from all the incredible people in the studio. It’s a safe space and a secure environment, which means I don’t need to worry as much about what others think or spend so much time trying to fit in,” Ellen shares. “I get to be myself at Misschiefs, and that has made me braver. Each artefact crafted by Ellen embodies a unique saga, inviting viewers to embark on a journey through the intricate nexus of materiality, functionality, and artistic ingenuity. Her avant-garde approach to material manipulation and meticulous attention to detail continually push the boundaries of traditional furniture design. In doing so, Ellen blurs the dichotomy between form and function, sculpture and utility, challenging conventions and inviting a reevaluation of the relationship between art and everyday life.  

From Screen to Canvas: Malin Molin’s Meditations on Contemporary Imagery text Natalia Muntean “I seek more freedom through my paintings,” says Swedish artist Malin Molin as we stand in front of Dear eyes, what are you looking at?, one of her works from her current solo show, Ekfraser. Born in Gothenburg in 1989, Molin is exhibiting for the second time in a solo show, Ekfrases (Ekphrases), at Gallery Wetterling in Stockholm. Derived from the Greek ekfras, the title describes a commentary on a visual work of art, with the artist intending to offer a commentary on today’s culture of image. Molin says she has an ambiguous relationship with the images we see online, and in our everyday lives. She is equally fascinated and enthralled by the neverending stream of imagery that can be found online, while also rebelling through her paintings against these same images deciding so many things for us, without us even being aware of it happening. The starting point for the colour-saturated paintings making up the exhibition are prompts given to AI software, such as Open Ai’s Dall-e 3 or Midjourney. This is an essential part of Molin’s attempt to understand the systems of image production that shape our reality, desires, minds, and bodies while counterbalancing these systems with oil painting. “I wanted to bring the flat images we see online and bring more movement, more body, more physicality to them. I believe that paintings offer the possibility of more immersion, more interaction and more awareness of your physical body,” she says about the movement, and livelihood even, present in her works. Rather than focusing on their visual meaning, Molin aims to draw attention to how the images were constructed. While the images are mostly inspired by animal and vegetal motifs, they are characterised by artificial lighting and a pinch of eccentricity. “I always feel a sense of dread before an exhibition and a feeling of it not being good enough,” she confesses. This time these feelings pushed her to start working on one more addition to the exhibition just two weeks before the opening, with the painting depicting two cats with circles ending up as the centrepiece of the show. Molin credits meditation for her success with painting, considering it one of her main rituals before facing the canvas, a space where she activates her sense of intuition and lets it guide her brushes and strokes. Ultimately, through Ekfrases, Molin aims to examine how our daily consumption of media and the inundation of images in contemporary culture affects us. “I wanted to merge these images that we see every day with questions such as: who are we or what do we seek,” says the artist. The show is on display at Wetterlling Gallery in Stockholm from March 14 until April 20, 2024.

Linea Matei’s First Solo Show Is a Tender Triumph text Rosel Jackson Stern When I walk into Linea Matei’s first soloshow Ser Du Mig, I don’t know what I’m looking at. Humanoid polyester sculptures with rounded edges in varying champagne colours sit in a circle with an empty chair among them. Each sculpture is stuffed with wadding and set up as though I’ve just walked in on an otherworldly AA meeting — alien yet somehow familiar. It’s opening night on a chilly February evening at the Stockholm based gallery CFHill. The room is buzzing with onlookers gazing at the circle, in turn watched by more textile sculptures lining the walls around us. The sculptures seem to echo the humanity of the onlookers. There’s an affinity to them as if we’re meeting ourselves from a different dimension. On closer inspection, each sculpture possesses a mirror where the face should be. This confronting intimacy is no accident. Having graduated from Konstack in 2022, this encounter is the first solo show of textile artist Linea Matei. She has sketched each sculpture and crafted them using the sewing skills she gained as a child. The subtle depth of their postures has been hard-won through hours of interviews across Sweden with subjects of varying ages, sensibilities and locations. “I wanted to set up the sculptes so that they explored what might happen if the interviewees somehow met,” she tells me in the upstairs rooms of the gallery. “What would happen if these people from wildly different backgrounds shared space?” she asks. The result is not just a cheap imitation of human behaviour, but a life given, reflected and cared for. Each of the sculptures is someone we know, forgotten or avert our eyes from. They are someone we console, someone whose shoulder we cry on. Both disturbing and comforting, there is a warmth to Linea’s show born of mature and nuanced practice. At the opening, the eerie familiarity seems echoed by my fellow spectators. When I asked one buyer what made them purchase one of them, he smiled and said: “It was something about the [sculptures] confidence and attitude of ‘please take care of me’ that spoke to me. It’s both vulnerable and strong. Like life.“ What has started as an unforgivingly chilly night in Stockholm has blossomed into an unusual display of public tenderness. We meet the sculptures with the sensibility of glimpsing a long-lost friend, only to be confronted by our own faces. For cold and cynical hearts, the show is bright and unassuming mediation on connection. It is confounding, delightful and surprises even the most deadened of viewers into a shared moment of humanity. It’s a benevolence so sweet that it poked my eye upon first seeing the show, equivalent to a stranger picking up on an awkward habit I never thought anyone noticed. Once I’d finished flinching, something inside me melted at the lives lived through these sculptures. Linea has done what the best art does: transmutes the world around them to reflect something of value back at the viewer. To do so without becoming a cliché, or overly “sugary” as my grandmother would say, you have to be specific. In this case, the angle of an arm, or weight of a knee becomes the difference between being force fed a message and inhaling the sweet scent of your favourite dish as a child. There’s no clearly discernible moral to Ser Du Mig, a credit to the artist. True to its name, it constitutes a wildly successful exploration of what it means to be seen. Ser Du Mig runs until 15/03/2024 at CFHill Gallery in Stockholm.

The Altersea Opera: A Journey of Displacement and Belonging text Natalia Muntean A poetic story exploring the tensions between the desire to stay and the need to leave, The Altersea Opera will dominate the Nordic Pavilion during this year’s La Biennale di Venezia. The Pavilion will transform into a dragon ship powered by magical sails filled with stories and mythological water creatures trying to find their way back to their places of origin, conceptualised by the Swedish artist Lap-See Lam. The imaginary ship is based on the Floating Restaurant Sea Palace, a Chinese dragon ship built in Shanghai and decorated by master craftsmen. The three-storey vessel served as a restaurant in Gothenburg before becoming a ghost ship at Gröna Lund theme park in Stockholm. Lap-See Lam found it dilapidated and moved it to a boatyard in the Stockholm Archipelago. Now the giant dragon’s head prow will travel from the Arctic archipelago to the Venetian lagoon. The audio-visual installation is influenced by various sources, such as the Red Boat Opera Company and themes of belonging, mobility, and generational loss, central to Lap-See Lam’s work. The Swedish artist explores the effects of displacement on people and objects across different contexts and times, digging into the depths of generational loss. The work on the 2024 edition of the Nordic Pavilion is led by Moderna Museet in Stockholm. In collaboration with Asrin Haidari, curator of Swedish and Nordic Art at the museum, Lam has invited artist Kholod Hawash (Finland) and composer Tze Yeung Ho (Norway), as well as singers, costume designers, filmmakers, and a certified bamboo scaffold engineer, to contribute.  The 60th International Art Exhibition – La Biennale di Venezia will take place between 20 April and 24 November 2024, with the official inauguration happening on the 18 April 2024.Photo: Mattias Lindbäck/Moderna Museet  

An Interview With the Artist Jan Håfström text Astrid Birnbaum Photography Sandra Myhrberg Jan Håfström stands as a towering figure in Swedish contemporary art, celebrated for his multifaceted contributions that have left an imprint on the nation’s artistic landscape. Born in Stockholm in 1937, Håfström’s artistic journey has been marked by a profound exploration of language, symbols, and a seamless fusion of diverse artistic disciplines. His recurring theme is the presence of death in life. Influenced by the movements such as minimalism and pop, Håfström’s artworks become a captivating synthesis of visual and conceptual elements. His canvases breathe life into a unique tapestry, where symbolism and storytelling intertwine to create distinctive narratives. They invite viewers into a realm of contemplation and interpretation.We met in his studio in Liljeholmen, Stockholm. Draped in a painter’s overall, Jan guided me through a collection of both new and old works that punctuated the studio space. Amidst the canvases and creative chaos, our conversation unfolded over coffee, providing a glimpse into the labyrinth of his mind. We finally got lost. Astrid Birnbaum: Jan, you were born in Stockholm and you studied philosophy at Lund University, followed by artistic studies at the Royal Institute of Art in Stockholm. How were your years in art school?Jan Håfström: Yes, it was after finishing high school in Gothenburg that I ended up in Lund, where I studied philosophy. I had heard that they had excellent lecturers there. There was a guy named Carl Fehrman who had written a book called “The Poet and Death” – so of course, I had to go there straight away! Before that, since childhood, I had been drawing, but that I would become an artist wasn’t so clear. However, I felt that the academic world wasn’t quite for me, so after moving back to Stockholm, I applied to the Royal Institute of Art. I suspected that being an artist was a way of life – independent, creating your own agenda, no one to boss you around. That appealed to me. There were groups outside art school that interested me. The magazine “Kris,” was run by people I spent time with, including my friend Håkan Rehnberg. Håkan and I met at the Royal Institute of Art. People at the school were theoretically quite boring, so we mostly socialised outside school. When I went to New York in the mid 70’s , Håkan –who is a painter –came along. A.B: New York, what does it mean to you? Which artists from your time there have inspired you? J.H: It’s hard to beat Robert Rauschenberg and Jasper Johns. We lived on Church Street, just below Canal Street. Everyone gathered in New York. Landing there in the mid-’70s was a gift, especially when PS1 had just started – a lot was happening. An artist I was particularly interested in was Robert Ryman. He did incredibly simple things, just swiping the brush across the canvas. He taught me a lot. I got a studio at PS1 in the spring of 1977. The exhibitions there were crucial for me. “Montezuma’s Breakfast” by Richard Nonaswas one of them. It featured logs on the floor, moving in and out of rooms, creating a strange sculpture. Barnett Newman, the painter and sculptor, was also very interesting to us. We never met him; he died in 1970. But we were invited to his widow Anna-Lee Newman’s home, where she showed us the bed he had slept in the day before he left and never returned. It’s almost macabre – she preserved the bed exactly as it was. A.B: Would you say that your art draws much inspiration from your childhood?J.H: Yes. My dad was religiously inclined and wanted me to attend Sunday school. In Örebro, there was a Sunday school in Immanuel Church, an independent church. They were crucial. Their teaching for children around my age, about 5 to 6 years old, involved a big box with sand where we moved around small sculptures, replaying religious themes. Much in my art comes from that time, and from there I’ve incorporated the theatrical aspects. A.B: Certain authors like Joseph Conrad and Edgar Allan Poe seem to be recurring in your works. What is it that interests you in their work?J.H: They scared me a bit, perhaps, which I found interesting. Embracing them makes the reading experience extreme. Both Poe and Conrad attempt to delve into some kind of darkness, into a realm of death from . One enters but does one ever come back the same? A.B: References to death are often present in your art. Can you share your thoughts on this? Do you often contemplate death?J.H: My dad talked a lot about death. He was a bit narrow-minded, I think. But he introduced me to Edgar Allen Poe! With all the difficult things happening in the world now – in Ukraine and with wars worldwide – certain thoughts come back. I’ve thought a lot about why I return to death in my art, but I believe that by creating what I do, I find a way to process what’s happening. I have to survive mentally; otherwise I might go crazy. A.B: Last year, you released a collection with the fashion brand A Day’s March, featuring coats inspired by one of your famous works – Mr. Walker. The statue at Central Station is named “Who is Mr. Walker?” Do you have an answer to that question?J.H: Oh, that coat… Fabric and clothes have played a big role in my art. And who is Mr. Walker? I get the answer from people around me. The other day, I was on the subway, and I noticed a man staring intensely at me. Eventually, he approached and said, “I would like to thank you for the sculpture at Central Station. I go there sometimes and wash my soul.” For me, Sunday school and Jesus are still present – and they are connected to Mr Walker from the comic strip Fantomen – the Phantom. There are parallels between

Fatima Moallim and the Will to Live text Natalia Muntean “I think art that displays inability and insecurity is more rewarding,” says Fatima Moallim about her approach to being an artist and creating whilst being plagued by feelings of doubt. Born in Moscow to Somali parents and raised in the million program outside Växjö, Moallim is a self-taught artist and has gained recognition for her performative works, particularly her unique approach to drawing using chalk, pencil, sharpie pens, and oil crayons. Moallim’s works are spread across various mediums, from drawing and sculpture to performance and installation, creating a seamless blend of memories and present moods. Fatima Moallim has Moallim has exhibited site-specific works at Moderna Museet Stockholm, Gothenburg Konsthall, Marabouparken, Zinkensdamm subway station in Stockholm and on the glass facade of Bonniers konsthall. She is represented in the collection of the British Museum, Moderna Museet, Gothenburg Museum of Art, Ståhl Collection, The Statens Konstråd’s collection, Vinge Advokatbyrå Collection and was the 2022 Iaspis Studio Grant Holder ISCP, New York. Her latest exhibition, “Viljan att Leva,” currently showcased at Konstakademien until March 2nd, provides the audience with a glimpse into Moallim’s inner world. Natalia Muntean: Could you tell us more about your exhibition “Viljan att leva”? What themes or concepts are explored in this collection of works?Fatima Moallim: Thoughts, thoughts, thoughts – an explosion of my inner thoughts that I can’t get rid of. I see buildings, structures, and the city’s inner forms and corners. I get stuck with an image in my head, and it can take weeks or months before all of a sudden I see myself in the studio in front of a huge finished drawing. It’s almost like it just appeared. NM: How did the experience of living in New York influence and shape the pieces displayed in this exhibition?FM: I lived in New York for a year, right next door to the Whitney Museum. I spent a lot of time in front of the large works by all the great artists that you never get to see in Sweden. That inspired me to work bigger and bolder. I don’t think I would have done the same kind of work if it wasn’t for my New York scholarship. NM: You mentioned that your creative process is neurotic, and you often doubt the quality of your work. Can you elaborate on how this doubt contributes to the authenticity of your art?FM: It is easy as an artist to hide behind elaborate details or gestures. That doesn’t interest me. I think that art that displays inability and insecurity is more rewarding. NM: Your previous works, such as “Flyktinglandet,” explored your family’s journey from Mogadishu to Moscow and eventually to Växjö and Gislaved. How has your Somali heritage influenced your artistic journey, and do you continue to explore it in your current work?FM: When I set the titles for my work I think it comes easy to me thanks to my Somali heritage. In the nomadic lifestyle, poetry and storytelling were the most important creative act and Somalia is one of the strongest poetic nations. I grew up with poetry and literature as a natural part of everyday life. NM: Could you share more about the relationship between Various Artists and your visual art, particularly in terms of improvisation and collaboration?FM: For me, starting a band without knowing anything about music, has a lot to do with exposing yourself to uncomfortable situations. In that sense, it is similar to what I try to achieve with my drawings. That said, I collaborate with extremely talented artists, like singer Sofia Jernberg and sculptor Ida Ida Ida. My band has been my greatest obsession since I started it. I use ordinary objects to make sounds, like an electric toothbrush, keys and a pencil sharpener. I sometimes invite people with little or no experience playing instruments to perform. A concert is a success when there are both moments of beauty and cringe. Portrait by Joakim Forsgren

Bernar Venet Is Disorganising Order text Natalia Muntean Renowned as a “giant of contemporary art,” Bernar Venet, born in 1941 in Château-Arnoux, France, has spent over six decades pushing the boundaries of artistic expression. As the most internationally exhibited French artist, Venet’s radical style reimagines traditional sculpture forms and extends into various artistic realms, including monumental corten steel sculptures, painting, performance, poetry, sound, design, and photography.  From January 25 until March 8, 2024, Wetterling Gallery is showcasing Venet’s latest works in an exhibition called “Disorganizing Order”. The exhibition features recent sculptures, drawings, and paintings by Venet and serves as a canvas for the artist’s overarching “principle of equivalence.” This guiding principle, transcending disciplines, encapsulates his latest theoretical explorations, centred on concepts like entropy, unpredictability, and self-reference. At the core of the exhibition are the recent Collapses (Effondrements) – stacks of Arcs arranged by chance and gravity, challenging the traditional vertical structure of sculptures and offering a delicate balance between unpredictability and mathematical precision. The exhibition’s final room features paintings from the Diffeomorphism (Difféomorphisme) series, where Venet digitally distorts scientific texts, creating a contrast between surface confusion and logical-mathematical formulas. There is an interplay between order and disorder, precision and unpredictability, that dominates Venet’s works, adding depth and complexity. It encourages viewers to contemplate the balance between control and chance, while also challenging traditional artistic norms and inviting a closer examination of the relationships between opposing forces in his creations. With works in over 70 museums worldwide, Venet continues to captivate global audiences from his dual bases in France and New York. Photos by Jean Baptiste Beranger, © Bernar Venet, courtesy of the artist and Wetterling Gallery Stockholm.

Intersections of Art: Astrid Jensen Kruse and Marjolein Rothman text Natalia Muntean “It felt very natural. My paintings speak about photography, and Astrid’s work revolves around photography, but it is very painterly. And we have similar motivations for why we do the work,” says Dutch painter Marjolein Rothman about the shared exhibition with Danish artist Astrid Kruse Jensen. Brought together by Björn Wetterling, the artists have come back to Stockholm with exhibitions currently gracing the walls of Wetterling Gallery. “He suggested that we should share the exhibition, knowing each other’s work very well. We had a good feeling about it and it made sense,” explains Kruse Jensen the idea behind the shared exhibition. “Resonance” by Astrid Kruse Jensen is somewhat of an existential journey catalysed by personal loss, while Marjolein Rothman returns with a series of paintings titled “Orange and Teal”, exploring ideas of fleetingness and the human condition. Even though different at first glance, their artistic trajectories and the current exhibitions hosted by Wetterling Gallery, deeply rooted in personal narratives and explorations of identity, intertwine seamlessly. Natalia Muntean sat down with the artists as they peeled back the layers of their creative minds, offering glimpses into their profound motivations, divergent mediums, and the intersections that define their artistic journeys. Natalia Muntean: I would like to know more about the exhibition and how you approached it. Did you treat it as two completely separate exhibitions, or was there a dialogue about it?Astrid Jensen Kruse: Marjolein and I had participated in group exhibitions together before, and this project space of Wetterling Gallery, which feels more like a two-space gallery, allows for exhibitions to communicate with each other, yet remain separate. It’s like Marjolein said – there’s so much linked between our work, even though it looks different. The strokes of light, for example. My work is photographic, but because of the chemical traces and the strokes of light, it also has this painterly touch. We both use ourselves as a starting point, drawing from life experiences like grief, loss, and love. It emanates from a deep, personal interest rooted in our hearts, but we want to make it universal, so anyone can relate. NM: Seems as if you take an essence of yourselves and transmit it through photographs and pictures?Marjolein Rothman: Yes, and also in our way of working, we take a step back, becoming more analytical while maintaining a strong, personal motivation. I have moments of reflection, considering what works and what doesn’t. As a painter, you stand in a long tradition, so what do you do then? I chose classical subjects like architecture, self-portraiture, and flowers. For me, that was daring because painting flowers was the only thing that women were allowed to do. But then I tried to do something that is maybe different and that is also a motivation.AJK: I am not afraid to work with something beautiful, while always incorporating an element of disturbance. It’s never just beautiful; there are always cracks, a duality between beauty and pain, love and loss, darkness and light. This shimmering between these elements is constant. It’s quiet and moving at the same time.MR: And that also depends on how you approach the medium. You, Astrid, choose photographic material that is expired for example. I use just two colours, let the painting appear, and that’s it. I don’t want to create a fixed image that I build up; I want the work to be in this in-between state, reflecting movement, transformation, and vastness. This is very important to both of us. It’s about fleetingness. I care less about traditional norms in painting and more about the direct expression of ideas. Painting isn’t solely about technique; it’s about conveying what you want to show. Failure is part of the process – erasing, building, scraping – until the light appears, and the image emerges. It’s been a journey in painting, but I love it. NM: When do you know a painting or photograph is ready?MR: It’s linked to a specific moment, much like photography. The connection to the image and the mood during its creation are crucial. I don’t precisely know beforehand what I’ll paint, but I have a general idea. I work within a short time, around 10 or 20 minutes, and once that’s done, the piece is finished. I want the painting to mirror the state of being when I made it. I can’t go back and add strokes; the energy needs to be captured in that moment. NM: You don’t alter it after?MR: No, sometimes I conclude, but altering it feels different energetically. The brushstrokes and everything else reflect the making process, and that’s crucial. NM: It sounds like they live their own lives, and you’re just the medium. What about your process, Astrid?AJK: I think my process is slower. Most often, I write about my images before finding a location. I photograph the same place multiple times. Sometimes, you’re there, see the light, and you just know without really seeing or understanding how the chemicals will react; you know this will be it. I prefer getting to know the locations beforehand. That’s why I return and photograph again. I place them all on the studio walls and start making selections. It’s a slow process, but sometimes, seeing ten pictures laid out, I just know which are the ones. It’s different each time, but there’s a feeling within, a certain knowing. You can’t explain it exactly, but you feel it.MR: Do you sense it when you take a photo?AJK: Sometimes when I enter a space, see the light, and I know, inexplicably, I have to be there. Other times, I revisit, seeking a different angle or adjustment. It’s about understanding the space I work in.MR: There’s a magical element too, as Astrid mentions the writing and the wonder of it all. I often tell students that while we can teach painting techniques, the wonder doesn’t come from that. It’s about the spontaneous moments, influenced by everything – the walk