I am a visual artist based in Amsterdam, working primarily with textiles and found materials in spatial installations. My practice investigates how memory, time, and consciousness take on physical form — how matter absorbs experience, and how traces of use, touch, and duration become carriers of meaning.
Textiles are central to my work because they are inherently relational materials. They fold, stretch, resist, wear out, and remember. Every crease, frayed edge, or tension point records an encounter: a body leaning, a weight applied, time passing. I approach fabric not as a neutral surface, but as an active archive — a material that stores emotional, cultural, and sensory memory.
My installations emerge from the tension between softness and structure, between the fragile and the architectural. I combine pliable textiles with more rigid or supportive elements, allowing these forces to coexist in temporary constellations. The works are not conceived as fixed objects, but as open situations: responsive to gravity, space, and context. Change, instability, and transformation are not by-products of the process; they are integral to the work itself.
Color plays a crucial role in my practice as a sensory and emotional material. I work with color intuitively, much like a composer works with sound, searching for resonance rather than harmony. Certain combinations trigger bodily responses or half-remembered associations — moments where perception opens and something long dormant feels briefly accessible.
My material vocabulary is often drawn from personal archives, found textiles, family photographs, and printed matter, including sources connected to my East German heritage. Visual references to Saxon folklore and the aesthetics of the former GDR intersect with influences from the Neue Leipziger Schule. Through these layers, I explore how identity is shaped by collective history, private memory, and ritualized forms of seeing.
Ultimately, my work is an invitation to slow down. Rather than offering a resolved narrative, the installations create conditions for attention — asking the viewer to experience space, material, and time with their whole body. What matters is not what the work explains, but what it activates: a sense of recognition, unease, or quiet familiarity that resists easy naming.