Daniel Hengst
Daniel Hengst (*1981 in Leipzig, DE) studied media technology in the early 2000’s. He lives and works in Berlin and Essen (both DE). Since 2019 he has been dealing with peatlands and researching about the notion of plant blindness. By meeting scientists and expanding the realm of art creation, Daniel makes artworks that facilitate a fruitful and congenial exploration of a new relationship between humans and plants. His works have been presented at Centre Pompidou (F), Ars Electronica (AT), Werkleitz Festival (DE), HAUNT/frontviews (DE), RIXC (LV) and also in several other places and institutions. “In my work I try to facilitate new encounters with plants and a sensitive and compassionate engagement with our blindness to plant life. My focus is on the plants of the peatlands and I work with light, code, video and sound. My artworks are based on extensive research and the resulting concepts. They offer opportunities for reflection or can be experienced intuitively and sensually.” (Statement from the artist’s website)
Although Daniel was travelling this summer, he was very interested in our interview format and offered to have this conversation through WhatsApp voice memos. With each exchange, we sent a handful of photos of plants in the urban landscape to expand our awareness of plant blindness. He also suggested we return to the same plants over the course of the week to notice the movements that occur to these living beings.
Artist’s Website
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Although Daniel was travelling this summer, he was very interested in our interview format and offered to have this conversation through WhatsApp voice memos. With each exchange, we sent a handful of photos of plants in the urban landscape to expand our awareness of plant blindness. He also suggested we return to the same plants over the course of the week to notice the movements that occur to these living beings.
Artist’s Website
Daniel: Hey, thank you very much. These are very beautiful images. The first one is really nice because it looks like the elevator is coming out of the tree, which is amazing. And also the second one is beautiful. It seems almost like the leaf is a kind of attachment to the bike. That's really nice. Thank you also for the question. It's been like, five or six years now that I'm concentrating my work around peatlands and plants or plant blindness, which is in a way based on my almost two decade long vegetarianism/veganism. That was fueled by a lot of information I learned about the food industry and how people are treating animals, and then afterwards also how they are dealing with nature itself and landscape. So that's why I was more and more intrigued by these topics. And in 2019, I had a residency with a friend of mine, with a curator from Australia. We called ourselves “Art for Landscape,” which was [based] around the question, “Is it possible to make art for landscape?” Not like landscape art or land based art, where you are taking something out of the natural environment, or using the environment for the sake of human pleasure or human excitement or human new knowledge or whatever, extracting something out of nature for humans mainly. So we tried to reverse that idea. And then I continued concentrating even more on the digital world. I think this is an era where we, humans, are spending a very long time in [the digital world] every day. So we're inhabiting these digital spaces, creating social and economical and political reality out of these digital environments. So I thought, why is it so unnatural in a way? Why are plants not appearing so much there? And how the representation of a plant changes our interaction or our relation to plants. Before that, for over 15 years I was mainly working, and I'm still working in theater with media artists, video artists. I was really interested in the notion of representation, meaning who is really on stage representing what? And how does that change throughout the decades? So, how is a Hamlet play being changed throughout the years? And why are we still playing these old plays and so on and so on. So I was really concerned with that a lot. And then on the other hand, I was concerned about the performativity of media itself. So at that time, when I was starting to make video art for theater, most of the time you had videos being played back, like footage. Somebody pushed start and then something would happen. So the video would be played back. And then at the end of the video, the artists or the actors would continue their play. And this is what I wanted to challenge. I also made audio pieces for theater that are intertwined into the performativity of the stage and of this moment where the spectators, the audiences would come together. I'm also very curious, what do you see in my artworks? Why did you ask me to become part of this encounter and of this experience? Or this experiment? How do you see the relations between art and nature? Do you have a special gaze on that? Or do you have a special experience with that? Or is there something you would reference for yourself?
Maitreya: Hi Daniel, thank you so much for your message. It was really interesting to hear about your background with theater. Neither of us knew that and saw that on your website. I really like the image that you sent with the plants sprouting up in this expanse of cement, this lifeless area. It's super interesting how they sprouted up around this human made pole almost to point out their existence. To answer your question about our interest in you and our interest in art in context with nature... Personally, I feel a very strong connection to nature and so last fall, I did a semester-long creative research project where I was investigating my personal relationship to nature, and the forests that I grew up with, while also investigating how nature and humans are similar, looking at these scientific processes. Like, trees getting infested with insects and having to grow differently to adapt and relating that to how when humans have something wrong in their lives and they have to grow to adapt, and drawing those kinds of comparisons and creating text and imagery to surround that. And right now I'm reading "Braiding Sweetgrass" by Robin Wall Kimmmerer. It's pretty popular in America. I don't know if it is here, but it's about learning about how indigenous people from America treat nature and their relationship to nature, and it's by a botanist so it's talking a lot about the reciprocal relationship [between nature and humans]. And it's been really beautiful to read about mutual respect with the natural world, and how that is often forgotten about which is obviously sad. So I really respect and appreciate your work and how you are trying to give voice to plants and put them in the context of technology right now. I think that is really awesome and important because technology isn't going anywhere, that's the direction and the motion that humans are moving towards, getting more and more technological, and so by asserting that plants should have a role within that I think is definitely important. Thank you for having us be more conscious of plants in this urban environment because it is easy to feel kind of stranded in a city from nature, and so it's good to be reminded that it is persevering.
RF: Yeah I think the beginnings of my interest in nature and plant blindness was a few years ago [when] I read “The Overstory” [by Richard Powers], again, a pretty popular book in America. It follows the stories of a bunch of people and their relationship with trees, like, personal stories about their relationships with trees. I was living and working on a farm at the time, and that really made me so much more aware of the environment I was working in, and the plants and nature that I was surrounded by every day, and working with to grow and harvest food. I was clearing pastures and fields and really engaging with nature. So that just made me think more about my relationship with nature and how people care for it, and then on the other side, hurt plants. And then in the past few months I've been starting to do some art and creating sculptures out in nature, using natural things that I just find out in the wild, out in the world, to create a sculpture. So I've been thinking about those pieces of art and making things that are interacting with my surroundings, and hopefully if people see those pieces out in the world, it will make them notice their surroundings more and notice the nature around them. We're both gonna send a few photos over, but our next question for you is: What are the similarities and differences between working with nature versus technology?
DH: Hello, thank you very much. These are amazing pictures, I really like this confrontation between stability and fragility and also between light and shadows. These kinds of interplays and locomotion. We have this idea of plants not moving or standing still, and once you start to observe them, you see that they are moving through the environment that we created. I can really encourage you in the following days to go back to one of these sites and even though the plants are moving very slowly, try to take the same photo again and see how the situation for the plant develops or changes or stays the same. So I think it's really this kind of diving or immersion into the plant’s life that is in a way inherited in each of these pictures, in each of these observations. So there's always a starting point for building a relationship where the plant is becoming more than an ornament, more than a beautiful aspect to our not so beautiful cities, or extending the beauty of the city depending on which city and which architecture we live in. I will send a new picture of these two little shrubs that are living here next to my hotel room in Nuremberg this morning. So the story continues. Yeah, and thank you so much for talking about your relation to nature. I think literature is really a way to go into a deeper kinship or deeper understanding of this relation. And I think I also read a book from Robin Wall Kimmerer, “Gathering Moss.” It’s about picking mosses or going through the marshlands and the peatlands because I'm also very interested in peatlands. I think the poetics of nature are sometimes so intriguing, exploring or expanding all minds maybe. Relating to your question, working with nature and working with technology, are maybe on the first layer two different aspects of the same kind. So a computer is in a way coming from the natural world. I think I would say maybe 95% of a computer or of a monitor or whatever I'm using to create my artworks is coming from the natural world. But it's like millions of years that made some kind of specific material that can be used inside of a computer, copper or stone or whatever. So it's kind of time [that] creates all the material for this computer, or all the oil. Everything that comes from oil is also in a way a plant-ish material. And then there's some alien material that comes from the universe, like gold, these kinds of materials that do not grow here or that were not created on our earth. The major difference in what inspired me to work with the digital realm is that I'm trying to exploit plants as little as possible. I saw a lot of media arts installations where plants are being used, being brought to an exhibition area or to an exhibition itself and being shown to the world as an art piece, or in combination with some other elements as a part of an art piece. [But] once you bring a digital plant into an art piece, you're not exploiting so much anymore. There lies an opportunity to change the system of hierarchy between humans and plants, because think of the digital world – every avatar we know in a digital world represents either a human person or an institution or maybe some fictitious agent or whatever. So if you bring a plant and you call it an avatar that represents a peatland, or represents a certain species, then it's suddenly on the same layer as this human avatar. It's not below it or right next to it. It can really take the place of this human in this virtual world if you allow. And this is what I really like about this realm of the digital, where these things are more fluid. I think it's about the interruption of the gaze. I think of art history, when certain painting strategies or painting techniques were developed throughout the centuries. So if you think about Albrecht Dürer, for example, he painted a piece that's called “Das Kleine Rasenstück.” He was really disrupting the way painting at that time was experienced, because it's about the motif, where what you show is the most important thing. He was turning his gaze towards these little plants that nobody would think of, nobody would look at, and by looking at this, or by turning the gaze towards these plants, he changed a whole generation of artists and thereby also a generation of people around him. This is what I find really great, and there's an opportunity in digital making that if you depict a plant that everybody would not notice, if you create a very beautiful digital artwork representing this plant, then there is the chance of people stopping and paying attention. It’s about the notion that there was somebody that took the energy, or used the time, to create this digital model or this digital representation. This shows where our perception can be directed to, and this is what I find really interesting. It's a way of negotiating these perceptual patterns. What's your impression of that? I would be curious if you worked already in the digital, if so what was your aim there? What was your topic? How would you see digital artworks in relation to physical artworks?
RF: It's really interesting that you work digitally because you don't want to interfere or exploit nature. And then how you've noticed that people are more drawn to digital depictions of nature than nature itself. I think that says a lot about the world right now and our relationship with technology. We're always getting information through technology and through a screen, these flashing lights, bright colors just draw our attention. I think that digital art is becoming a very powerful way to get your message across and get your work seen.
MR: I want to talk about the painting that you sent us, which is so beautiful. It reminds me a lot of your work. Both in your images of plants from the peatlands and this image, the plants are existing in a void, which I think is interesting. And I think that that is related to this idea of plant blindness, that in order for us to notice [them], plants kind of need to demand to be seen. When they're in these voids, it's like they're demanding, “Look at me, you have nothing else to look at, I'm here and present.” And I think that is interesting to think about. I also really like your idea of taking photos of the same plants over a course of a couple of days. I think that that is a very sweet way to put care into noticing plants. And there's something very mindful about paying that close attention. And as for digital art, I have done some digital art. I've worked with communication design and images, mostly layering photos in different ways. But I feel like digital art, if you don't have the training, if you're not in those classes, there is something very intimidating about it because it's not like you can just pick up a paintbrush and paint. With digital art, you need to learn coding and programs. And so I think maybe there is also a separation from that form of creative technology that maybe feels comparable to separation from understanding science as creative people. Like, having so much love and awe for the natural world, but also feeling kind of intimidated over how to understand its complexity. Maybe technology and nature are similarly complex but intriguing. And our next set of questions, kind of along this topic... Do you consider yourself in collaboration with nature? And do you consider yourself in collaboration with technology? Or are you controlling technology? And how do you think your identity or personhood is reflected through your art?
DH: Hey, thanks for your message. The photos, really nice. Seems like an exhibition that you collected some images from, but also images from the city, with the plants growing on the walls, really beautiful. Yes, I think we got to what you're saying. I think this is one aspect of working in the digital. Maybe I expressed this wrongly. The main variable of why I'm working digitally is not to not exploit plants, rather, it opens up a different realm that is maybe more related to a theater or more related to literature than it is related to fabrication or to science in that sense. And you were talking [about how] the plant is calling for something, or that there's an agency, and I think this is what I'm also interested in when talking about the avatar or talking about a plant as an avatar. Looking at peatlands, for example, they are shouting in a way [that] they cannot shout in real life. And it's also not me trying to humanize these plants, it's a way to make visible how these endangered species are really asking for attention. And I think this is what is interesting to do when you bring these plants into the realm of an avatar, of a normal social exchange we experience in a digital world in everyday life. I also wanted to respond to the notion of digital art making. It's not so accessible, which I think is totally true. You're totally right on that. But I think also there's this very material culture around us. Value is connected to objects and about scarcity of these objects. So I think of most expensive materials like platinum or gold or silver, that are really expensive because they are scarce. And I think this always comes with exploitation and with high CO2 consumption. And I think that's why it's also interesting to work more immaterial, to take a step away from these material cultures. I don't [mean] it has to be like this or that. [But] this is an interesting position to work from. And I think there are a lot of aesthetics that are not explored yet. I think most of the time digital aesthetics are copying what has been done in the real world. So I think there's a lot more to explore and to find out. As we do with all new materials that may develop new ways of lighting things, LEDs, neons, all these kinds of changes also created new aesthetics and new modes of art making. This identity topic is not really a very important topic for me. I think I'm talking, with everything I do, from a very privileged position compared to a lot of other people in the world, and for me this art making has not so much to do with my identity or with what I am. How do you read that? What's your opinion on that identity element in artists who are working with the natural environments or on climate crisis? How is identity related to this topic or how important is it to express it in artworks? I just looked again at the images from the exhibition and I thought, what's interesting about them is that there's only one image in which the plantish material or the vegetation is not a material, so it's not the material for something else. But in all the other cases, it's like the plants are becoming this material for this expression, which I find interesting to explore and to see. What is the narration behind that? Or what are the aesthetics? What could be a relation to a plant that is more than a materialistic approach to the plant world? For example, if you think about peatlands, they were drained in middle Europe for a very long time because they were [seen] to be bad and [cause] illness. You cannot harvest from these wet grounds. So they were draining all these areas [for] farmers, in the beginning, but then after the Second World War it became agricultural companies, creating milk and all these kinds of things that are for mass production. And now they are trying to rewet
RF: Yeah, it's interesting what you're saying about how you feel like your work is not tied to your identity and climate work is not tied to the creator's individual identity. And I guess that is true in a lot of cases, making work on this issue because the climate crisis is such a collective universal issue.
And so it's not so much someone's personal story that they're sharing. It's everyone's story that we should all be aware of and be thinking about. But then on the other side of that, I think you could have examples of two artists whose works might look the same, on the subject of nature. For one artist, maybe they're telling a personal story that is told through this depiction of nature. But then the other artist’s message through the work is that more outward connection to the climate crisis and to notice the plants and think about our relationship with the climate and the earth around us.
MR: Thank you for your comments on the photos. I went to an exhibition, Berlinische. It was interesting what you were saying about the shift in perspective of these peatlands and how they used to be viewed as something negative and not helpful. And now we're starting to recognize that they can help with the climate crisis if we take care of them. The shift in perspective and the materiality of plants and the material way that they can help us. To reference “Braiding Sweetgrass” again, Kimmerer discussed all the different uses of cattail plants and how you can eat different parts of them and they can be used for bedding or to make mats. There's just so much. And I grew up next to a swampy environment with lots of cattails and never knew how many different roles they can play. And I think that's just a good example of how plants can have so many different uses, and not in a way that is necessarily exploiting them and taking from them, but learning from them and working with them. Another thing Kimmerer has been talking about is how if you harvest certain plants, they grow back stronger and it is a reciprocal exchange. In terms of the climate crisis, if we plant a lot of trees that will help neutralize the carbon and our atmosphere. And yeah, it's wild. There's so many thousands of plants out there each with their own individual stories of how they can help save our planet in their own way. And it's just a matter of how do you get people to listen to that and to really acknowledge that knowledge and learn about it? I think art is a great way to do it. Our next question for you is related to this whole idea. A lot of your work is in collaboration with either the viewer or other artists. How do you think collaboration can be used to educate and enact change in the context of the climate crisis?
DH: Yes, I think that's really interesting what you're talking about, this idea of not knowing who these plant neighbors are, what are they doing? What can they do? What's the kind of relation that we have to these plants? It's interesting to enlighten these aspects and to see the relation historically and economically and so on. And if you go back into history you see that there was a much more equal hierarchy between plants and humans or other species seen from the point of view of a human. Yes, this is what I'm also really interested in. But on the other hand it's also about the right of a plant to live on its own. So it's not only about this kind of relation towards humans and what you can do for the climate crisis, but it's also that these plants have a right to live. I think for me thinking about this term of rights for nature is a bit difficult. Coming to your question, I meet people and they help me to understand about peatlands, about plants and so on. I think it's a very important aspect of this work because it's not only about aesthetics in the end and about a visual representation of an idea. It also goes a little bit deeper in an educational moment where you can reach people or touch people on a different scale. But there are exploitative manners that artists always bring up or include in their practices. Everybody's traveling to Venice and you have huge scale installations but already the nature there is problematic. A lot of problems are arising. People are here for a moment but then everybody goes back to his or her own business. And what stays? So this is I think one of the core questions I have at the moment when I'm creating these artworks, how to really integrate this knowledge into the body and how to offer a platform that allows people to create that sensational layer or first to explore it and to feel it and then, in the next layer to find this in one's own body because I think then it becomes really central. It starts from the question of how all these movements, behaviors, [and] aesthetics of the morphology of a plant or a human is holding potential for empathy, and how can we negotiate this not to nudge people towards a certain understanding of nature, but to invite people into this realm where they may have the chance to encounter themselves differently. This I find interesting as a research field. It's also these kinds of talks that we have about hermeneutics, so this idea of while we are talking things are being brought up. What is important here is to listen to others and to take it into account when taking the next step. A lot of learning is growing around us in the form of plants and in the form of their collaboration and their confrontation with each other about fighting for the niches in the biological sphere of our planet, and this is what you see as a fight for life but also on the other hand as a form of cooperation. I would want to know from you what you think of these kinds of encounters with different artists for the art magazine you're creating at the moment. Where will they lead you? Or what's the outcome? Or what did you already learn from these different encounters?
MR: I first wanted to say that I was really interested in what you said about the climate crisis and how most of the conversations right now in the world that are going on about plants and nature are in the context of the climate crisis and thus in the context of, humans need a place to live. “Humans are getting displaced, we're all going to die, let's save the planet” and there's this urgency that is putting humans on this pedestal. Regardless of humans, plants belong to this planet and they have an equal importance here as we do. I think that's a nice sentiment and one that I haven't really thought about before.
RF: To answer your question about what we've learned from this project and from these interviews, I think what's most interesting to me is how we go into a conversation with someone and it leads to them talking about a theme or a part of their work that they're really interested in, a question that everyone has, everyone thinks about. I think typically in interviews the interviewers are going in to learn something about the interviewee but through the conversations that we've had, the people that we've talked to have also been asking us questions to see our side, our opinions on these questions and themes that they're really interested in making work about. And I think that's been interesting, for people to see that people are interested in what they’re thinking about and what other people's opinions are on these big topics that they're working on. They want to get different perspectives and maybe that'll influence their work in a different way moving forward.
MR: I actually think it relates a lot to what you've been talking about with the hierarchy that exists between plants and humans and how we kind of assume that humans are above plants when in actuality, plants and humans have so much to learn from each other and there's so much empathy that can go in between them. And so I feel like that's kind of the goal with these interviews as well, to challenge the hierarchy that exists between interviewer and interviewee. I don't know if it's a thing in Germany, it's called Oral History? It’s essentially interviews where you go in and it's completely the interviewee's domain. The interviewer is really just a person to ping pong back and forth with, but it's really about capturing what the interviewee wants to talk about. Sometimes that's used to archive living people's stories, archive communities. There's a lot of oral histories that are being conducted with Indigenous peoples in America to help preserve their stories and traditions. And so in the context of journalism and also artist interviews, I am really interested in how that can function in a smaller and maybe more casual context. My hope is that all the artists in our interviews feel like it’s a different setting than the interviews that they're used to and feel like they can start talking about whatever they want to talk about. What I'm personally interested in at the end of the day isn't necessarily art, but it's the people behind the art and their ideas and what they want to put out into the world and who they are. You've definitely been very receptive to this idea and we really appreciate how you're comfortable asking us questions as well and really going on about what's interesting to you specifically within these topics.
RF: We were reading about your project, Skip the Line Entrance, where you interviewed artists about their visions for a collaborative city. And so we were wondering what you learned from that, and what your own vision is for a collaborative world.
DH: This aspect that you brought up about this more reflective layer of an interview and this unraveling of the positions of the interviewee is really interesting. [Generally interviews are] bringing the one who is interviewed into a position of having to say something clever or something that is kind of making a point in the end. And it's not so much as we are talking now where we are more about relating to each other. And maybe this is already a kind of a combination of how I thought a collaborative city would look like. It makes me very happy that you found this piece of art that was a commission for us at Electronica two or three years ago. And it was also presented by accident in the Centre Pompidou in Paris in a group exhibition. This was in a stream round of like 30 videos. All the spectators got to see my artwork, but there were a lot of other artworks that were on the same screen. And this is already a thing that I like, sharing space. This is how a city should look like. We have more things to share, maybe offices, places to sleep, places to work, and places for leisure as we already do. This is maybe the only thing that we share at the moment in the city, even though these places are too [scarce]. It's also about sharing objects like cars or bikes or computers. We need more sharing culture and self-organized ways of sustaining in the city and sustaining with less material, less computers, less cars and so on. I think this is a good basis because this always reminds us that when we are collaborating or doing something together and sharing, that we can shape a better future. So this is a starting point, and then I would say a collaborative city also means creating occasions that allow people to easily step in with no problem and to become a part of a certain group of people doing this or that or reaching out for certain things in their neighborhood or whatever. It's complicated because people are also exhausted by their work routines and by social life and the media is very much occupying people's minds. So I think we need more free time, more space, more sharing culture. That would be a great way of starting collaboration. I think we also need more architecture that allows collaboration. I really like Centre Pompidou in Paris for example, it is really a very open and very welcoming space. There are more of these kinds of spaces in Europe and Helsinki. You were asking about the second to last image. Currently I'm working on some aesthetics around sphagnum moss, which is a type of moss that is growing in peatlands that is creating peat. I'm working on a kind of “peat clock,” or it's like a speculative clock that is driven by a virtual peatland. So it's this combination of natural and mathematical elements and stating this contradiction as a point to say, how far will we go until we have to inhabit nature? Do we have to control nature because there's maybe no turning back? Then saying we have to reinvent nature in order to help nature to survive. These things are very interesting to me because it's always bound to our understanding of time. We always assume that time is just there. It's just existing. But if you think about that, life was created by plants because they actually cleaned the air. They made the atmosphere livable for other species. So in a way they also created time. It means that this life that we are living or our bodies became possible on this planet [because of plants]. And so that's why I'm working on this new piece that is around time and peatlands and our understanding of time.
MR: We first wanted to acknowledge what you're talking about with the collaborative cities. I totally agree that architecture plays such a role. I was studying abroad in Copenhagen this past semester and I did a Sustainable by Design class and we talked so much about architecture's role in creating a more sustainable, communal, and collaborative city. I don't know if you've been to Copenhagen or if you're going to go at some point soon... I'm curious if you know about the space Absalon. It was actually started by the founder of Flying Tiger, he took this big church and remade it into a community center. And so it's painted all these nice pastel warm colors and there's coffee, but you can also just sit there and hang out. They have free wifi and it's like a library but then without feeling like government controlled or stuffy in any way. They also do community dinners there and that was my introduction to community dinners, and it was super sweet and I totally agree that more spaces like that and more sharing bring people together in a very nice way.
RF: We were really interested in your ideas about time that you were talking about at the end and plant time, because there are so many different ways to measure time. I think that's really interesting and yeah, plants were here on this planet long before we were and so it's interesting that humans have created this measurement of time that's centered around ourselves and not the things that were here originally and that created and built this environment that we are now living in and have taken over.
MR: I've actually really thought about plant time in the project that I was telling you about, that was one of the things that I was researching a little bit. Plants' perception is likely very different from ours, but in a way they do perceive time differently. You never know, maybe their perception of time is a more circular function. So interesting. And the images that you sent from your project of the peatland clock are so beautiful. I'm really curious to hear more about what you're doing with that. If you have any other thoughts on time and perception of time… We've reached the end of our questions that we had prepared. And so aside from time, if there is anything else that you feel like you don't usually get asked in interviews, that you wish you could talk about more or anything else, we want to open this space up again and hear what you have to say.
DH: I can say I also learned a lot of from your side, so for me it was also a very nice exchange, because I learned what you're interested in and how you see the world and how you would take one of these challenges, for example, about looking at the plants or trying to follow their path through the city day by day. So it was really nice for me and I thought about extending this practice to do that with others more often, because it really helps to locate the gaze of the other or locate the perceptual patterns around plants and urban environments, so that's really great. I don't think I have something specific here to say. We touched so many points and so many aspects. It was really a great time with you sharing this chat and thank you very much for inviting me in and let's meet again if you have some observations. I am in Norway now.
Hugs and Love,
Daniel
- Blooming Love, 2020, developed within the framework of an EMAP / EMARE grant at the media art gallery RIXC in Riga, Latvia (photo courtesy of Falk Wenzel)
- vBlooming Love, 2020, developed within the framework of an EMAP / EMARE grant at the media art gallery RIXC in Riga, Latvia (photo courtesy of the artistl)
- Nastien & Tropismen, 2022, funded by the Federal Government
Commissioner for Culture and the Media (photo courtesy of Andreas Baudisch) - skip the line entrance, 2020, created for Ars Electronica - In Keplers Garden / EMAP Residency Journeys
with Aljoscha Burtchen, Bek Berger, Grit Schuster,
Clemens Schöll und Lukas Matthaei (photo courtesy of the artist) - skip the line entrance, 2020, created for Ars Electronica - In Keplers Garden / EMAP Residency Journeys
with Aljoscha Burtchen, Bek Berger, Grit Schuster,
Clemens Schöll und Lukas Matthaei (photo courtesy of the artist) - Border artworks our collaboration
- The Overstory by Richard Powers [book]
- Gathering Moss by Robin Wall Kimmerer [book]
- Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer [book]