What is your artistic process? How do you embark upon new bodies of work?
Usually, new things only start to emerge when I have doubted what I want to express for weeks or months: I read and collect concepts that I think fit the artistic process, start to overthink them and then in its latest state, an artwork is suddenly created very quickly, this can even be achieved in a day of non-stop productiveness. On the other hand, I sometimes forget that I’m always busy collecting and photographing natural phenomena along the coast, watching them under the microscope, making pigments out of them, mimicking shapes… I seem to have a secret archive of unfinished half-edited potential of in-between works.
How has your practice evolved over time? How has COVID affected your practice?
The realization of the fact that we are all connected has grown stronger. The past is inextricably intertwined with the future because energy is constantly fluctuating in a cause-effect rhythm, from which no mind or matter can escape. We need each other to carefully understand these transformations and gain insight into whom it is (in)visibly harmful and contribute to how we can enter an upward polyvocal energy spiral without losing sight of the marginalized. I try to add more and more content to my practice to spread this message as if I make my brain physical by moulding it into shape so that others can enter it too.
Can you tell us more about your journey with the GUP New Talent 2021 award?
In 2014, my first year of art studies, there was an assignment in which we had to imitate a magazine of our choice (with our own text and images) to learn how to design. I chose GUP because the subjects they raised within photography expressions resonated very much with my understanding of how to reflect the environment; underlining rawness. Last year, I saw their open call and I just wanted to see where I stood in the photography range because I never really studied or learned this. I certainly don’t think this is necessary, but it was partly due to uncertainty. When I saw that GUP took my practice seriously, this gave me a boost to develop my photographic skills even more.
What are some of the most memorable responses you’ve had to your work?
When I took my grandma to an exhibition, she gently questioned me whether the animals in my installation were still alive. (To be clear, no animals or even straightforward suggestions of animals have ever been involved in that installation). I can’t imagine a better compliment.
Are you developing any new bodies of work currently?
Currently, I’m studying MA Ecology Futures, in which I mainly do textual research and allow myself a little longer to understand the matter before I publish new work. I practice with living matter in a lab, such as kombucha, mycelium and slime mould, and I look at what connection this has within algorithms. I also investigate how the growth of natural phenomena, such as algae, can be used as input and can influence sound (output). An important part is that I keep on asking myself what is needed instead of what I want to create. I’m sometimes a bit overwhelmed and imploded by all the exciting investigations and I wish to allow myself more time to translate this knowledge into art. More collaboratively, I co-organize the growing collective of artists Acid Salt, where we are looking to push how we perceive art with all our senses, projects and pieces —specifically curated to uplift one another, to combine strong and soft elements and reach for shared sensory electricity. We are working on an in-real-life event that will hopefully take place soon.
If there was an academic course dedicated to your work, what three books would you put on the reading list?
The Form of Becoming, Embryology and the Epistemology of Rhythm by Janina Wellmann
Why Materials Matter by Responsible Design for a Better World by Seetal Solanki and
Undoing Monogamy, The Politics of Science and the Possibilities of Biology by Angela Willey.