Dear Jahn und Jahn,

You know, colour is a kind of dilemma. It breaks, it blends, it flows – and it never stands still. It’s exactly that restlessness that draws me in. The way colour, once transformed into a semi-tangible matter, brings with it a unique kind of energy. Up close, you witness a collective play of tones; from a distance, it becomes a solid field. In darkness, it expands – yet even then, it resists being fixed or contained. Sometimes, it seems that colour itself doesn’t know where it begins or ends. Does colour have a structure? Can it feel like a surface? Can it un-speak a language? Should we stand up for colour? Is it a force we can summon, awaken, or breathe life into? Colour lies almost like a first layer over everything we see – or think we see. As humans, we must learn to navigate this presence throughout our lives: to give it space, to process it, sometimes to ignore it – both physically and mentally. And yet, this constant dance brings me a strange kind of peace. Because colour doesn’t define culture. Every colour is, at its core, neutral. It belongs to something larger – just as we do, in our own way. There is meaning in the active, collective posture of colour – a meaning that reaches beyond our cultural interpretations. Perhaps even one that is more sustainable. When a body of colour is allowed to speak for itself, without being used as a mouthpiece for another agenda, true presence and dialogue can emerge. This is a dialogue I’ve been engaged in for years – and it’s time to bring together a series of works that embody it. Where colour is allowed to slow down. In works that weave themselves into the urban, the collective, or the intimate inner gaze of the human being. Works that call on diverse materials – and even on the city of Munich itself – to bring colour to life in ways the viewer can listen to, with both body and mind.    Read More