is a German-Canadian full-time artist. Her oil paintings explore the human experience and are posted below in the galleries.
Greetings to my German family and fans from my studio in Canada! In this video I talk about my I Love You Anyway exhibition in Berlin, January 2020.
These images are studies of humanoids in the context of the artificial intelligence revolution. I imagine cable electrodes augment our biological limitations and infuse benevolent values. The titles are generated by Chat GPT 4 to express a sound bite of consciousness. The superimposed lines express the passing of time.
I was thinking about basic life marked by repetition of rituals shared with my husband Mark. I observed his quiet caring and frequently seeking me out to tell me things. His trust cracks open my narcissism. These paintings are about love and innocence in the face of the pandemic and Russia's war on the Ukraine.
These figurative paintings are about the implications of the pandemic imposed restrictions. I am curious about how being together is becoming a new ‘special occasion' and what the pandemic is teaching us about our humanity and our mutual interdependence.
I view the richly structured forest as an analogy of the human experience. It offers a language for painting how we exist outside ourselves yet share a connected interior, our struggles and exultations of living a life. I trace the impossible gestures of trees to unmask patterns from one determination of being to another and construct narratives of figures dwarfed by dense growth and decay of nature being nature.
This series of paintings marks the gradual stages of adjusting to the global pandemic against the backdrop of my local forest. It began as a flurry of rules about hand washing and 6 feet social distancing, followed by lockdown and quarantining. I was thinking about the experience of surrendering to a new more grounded life.
These paintings are about relationship and romancing our shadow to arrive at self love. They were made in the context of the energy and culture of Berlin when I was artist in residence at gallery102. I think about the discomfort of facing our shadow, in Jungian psychology, that we unknowingly hide from ourselves until it appears suddenly like a stranger, exposing the opposite of who we think we are—a bully, an addict, a victim, a blamer, a liar, and so on. I imagine pulling these unwanted parts of ourselves out of denial into conscious awareness, to be disarming and empowering. I wanted this dissolving or untangling to be like mining for gold in softness that moves in and out of light, enveloping humanity, deepening intimacy, making us more balanced and loving.
A hundred years ago the Futurists celebrated speed and our technological triumph over nature. Today there is much concern about how people are adversely affected by this conquest. On one hand, scientists predict a transhuman existence where we can order a set of lungs from the organ store or download intelligence on a computer. On the other, many object to a future of science fiction. The International Slow Movement is the quiet motor that breaths life into the prophecies of McLuhan and others, who saw that human beings, not designed to live at the speed of light, are destined for an inevitable cultural reversal. My paintings are about this reversal. Youth engaged against the speedy Muybridge figures celebrates the survival of nature in the face of technological acceleration.
I am curious and intrigued by the fickle nature of paradox and the absence of clear boundaries between its polar components. I play at aimlessly exposing the chaos of paradoxes, amused with the ultimate paradox: ourselves. We are creatures of folly and wisdom, full of foibles and greatness. Ultimately, these drawings transcend me; my language cannot reach them. Each drawing is 13” x 20”, graphite and chalk pastel on paper.
These panels are about our fickle emotional and physical existence marked by happenstance, circumstance and choice. They are emotionally charged records of various overlapping events of my life. The Handicap is a tribute to the 9-5 labourer. It is a satirical look at a job situation I was dependent on for a long time. The suction pit, lined with a safety net, in the bottom right, represents the conflict of choosing the promise of security versus the more liberating but financially risky pursuit of making art.