As it is probably the case for every young artist, I, too, presented my works in an artistic context at the beginning of my creative career – in the context of so-called »high culture«. By that I mean art festivals, concert halls, museums and galleries. For me, who had come from a simple farming background, this new urban context had a fascinating, almost magical appeal.

And it worked.

But that initial euphoria at being able to draw the attention of the art industry to me and my works soon gave way to the realization that neither the internal rules of the game nor the external field of influence of this elite circle was in line with what I had imagined. The original motivation for my creativity lay deeper than – or more accurately behind – that.

I don’t know why, but what has always interested me most of all is the so-called »everyday«: the everyday moment, the creative moment in the everyday context or, taken further, the artistic intervention in the non-artistic context. That is my passion.

But what is it that fascinates me about connecting my art to the system levels of the everyday? After all, by doing so I find myself at the very limits of art. Because if art surrenders itself to the everyday – and hence to the mundane – then the difficulty naturally arises of defining what »art« then actually is. Art in the everyday can be overlooked, mistaken, perceived as having another function. All of this shouldn’t really be possible in the conventional artistic context that is disconnected from the everyday, where the point is precisely to be able to recognize easily and unmistakeably what is art – and how much it is worth ...

And yet I am fascinated by this difficult discourse about »art in the everyday« – or perhaps that is precisely why I am fascinated by it. Repositioning art in the wasteland of »reality«, in apparent one-dimensionality, in what threatens to be the total instrumentalization of being: that is what I feel is my task.

I take care of art
that takes place beyond »art«
that can develop beyond
its own limits.

SHA. © 2016