he drawing Rhino’s Revenge from 1995 formed the starting point: an explicitly rendered revenge scene in which a victim turns against its perpetrator.

This drawing was then combined with the oil painting You with Your Beauty, You Just Knocked Me Out (2006) and a canvas with the letters MAGA from the project Melting Goals.

Within the framework of Drawing in Motion, the oil painting and the drawing were mounted together on the drawing board. The drawing received additional coloring to merge more strongly with the board.

In the next step, the drawing was detached: the back reinforced with interfacing, the front with PVC. Folds were stitched over and the rhinoceros’s horn reappeared.

In this way, the new work Signature of a Rhinoceros emerged. A canvas with paint traces harmonized well with the drawing. The title refers to a ‘signature’ in the sense used for a serial killer: a recognizable, personal trace.

My former living room now functions as a small exhibition space where I show ongoing transformations. The setting is more restrained than my studio—without the abundance of materials that have their place elsewhere in the house. That calm makes it possible to present ideas in a more finished, yet always temporary form. In this way, a familiar living space takes on a new role within my working process.

Here you see a snapshot from the project Drawing in Motion.
As the work progresses, I replace this photo with the most recently drawn layer.

Click on the image to follow the entire project.

For the project Choose and Change (2003–2018), I designed an aluminum structure that allowed forms to be connected. What once remained uncertain has since become a guiding thread in my studio: an open system in which existing works can attach, detach, and continually transform within space.

In my possession I still had the oil painting Your Beauty, You Just Knocked Me Out (2006), depicting former president George W. Bush. His words often left me speechless at the time. It couldn’t get any worse… or so I thought then.

In my studio I place canvases of 150 x 150 cm on the floor. I simply walk over them and use them during all sorts of studio activities. In this way, traces of transformation emerge almost naturally.

One of these canvases, marked by such traces, brought me to the idea of noise: disturbances that obscure the transmission of communication. Today, a great deal of that ‘noise’ is spread deliberately to sow division.

The work was given the title Noise Preacher. It can be opened so that more or less of the preacher becomes visible. The original oil painting is sewn onto the abstract canvas.