BETWEEN THEIR EYES
ARTICLE & INTERVIEW series:
A journey beyond the canvas, weaving human and collaborative stories.

KARLOTTA SUSANNA PÖCHKO
Between the skin
15.07.2025 - 25.08.2025

Following the exhibition ‘Between the Skin’, KÜSSE Berlin delves deeper into the delicate universe of Karlotta Susanna Pöschko’s work, where vulnerability and softness surface through every brushstroke. With the Between Their Eyes series, KÜSSE Berlin extends the experience beyond the physical space of the gallery. Each article offers an intimate exploration of the portraits, revealing the shared moments, emotions, and connection between artist and sitter. Here, the models are no longer silent subjects; their voices weave into the narrative, opening new viewpoints and expanding the exhibition space through text that complements the aesthetic experience. Readers discover how relationships and collaboration form an interconnected artistic world. This article series will be presented in September as a Meta-Exhibition (mix of moodboard and mind map), extends ‘Between the Skin’ beyond a non-conventional and physical frame option as well.

AUTHORS
Chloé Devaux Courvoisier
Shih-Hsuan Lin
MaviSu Kasapoglu

BETWEEN THEIR EYES

  • Karlotta Susanna Pöschko: Being in/to the world

    Born in Fürth (Germany) in 2001, Karlotta Susanna Pöschko is currently studying at the Academy of Fine Arts Leipzig. Her artwork, mostly portraits, is driven by a deep connection to the silent dialogue between artist and model. These paintings, beyond depicting identities, let slip a vibration that elaborates her perception of presence into the world with a tender and soft approach. The materiality of textiles and fabrics plays a vital role in her practice. Gauze, steel, layered pigments: these are not embellishments, but surfaces that think, breathe, remember. In Pöschko’s hands, textile becomes a second body, a membrane between the figure and its image, both veiling and revealing. This sensitivity to material, as well as the insistence on the physicality of painting, resonates deeply with the heritage of the Leipzig School.



    Published on 27.08.2025.
    Written by Chloé Devaux Courvoisier.

  • Lison Tureau Pezery: Je(u), A Playground for Emotions

    Paris-based artist Lison Tureau Pezery works across painting, illustration, printmaking, textiles, installation, and reading performance. For her, material experimentation functions less as a technical exercise but as a form of thinking-through-making to explore ideas. Her practice often begins with personal experiences and relationships, yet always opens out toward the viewer. Her figures, distinguished by their expressive eyes and reminiscent of a cartoon or graphic novel, inhabit the entire exhibition space, creating an immersive dimension. Varying in scale, these characters form a playful terrain that reshapes our relationship to the work. It invites reflection on the modes of reception and the experiential dimension of the work, fostering contemplation of fear, curiosity, and memory, ultimately questioning how emotion and affects are negotiated within the structures of adulthood.

    Published on 3.09.2025
    Written by Shih-Hsuan Lin.

  • Amelie Luca Staudhammer: The Gift of Encounter

    Amelie Luca Staudhammer studied at the Academy of Fine Arts Leipzig, a school known for its academic rather than conceptual approach in the painting department. It provided a fertile ground for the development of her technical expertise, which fostered her personal vision and creativity. From these brushstrokes emerged a space in which memory and imagination intersect, transforming painting into a site of critical and aesthetic exploration. Her work has evolved from biographical storytelling to a fictive, narrative perspective, while remaining consistently centered on the notion of encounter. Each canvas captures moments of joy, intimacy, and shared presence, serving as reflections of what she seeks to cultivate in her life. Looking at her work is like stepping into her world, where individual experiences acquire the resonance of collective emotion.

    Published on 14.09.2025
    Written by Chloé Devaux Courvoisier
    and MaviSu Kasapoglu.

  • Inga Wójcik: Coding a language of Color and Sound

    Inga Wójcik’s artwork doesn’t stop at the canvas; it spills into music, visual language, and memory. With a mathematician father, she grew up surrounded by codes and structures, and this influence is reflected in her art.  Her work iconically transcends the confines of size and canvas. Frequently employs shades of limited color tones, complemented by fluid brushstrokes and lines that flow freely across walls and boundaries. Instead of telling stories directly, she invents her own symbols, arranging them like notes on a score. Her paintings can be read left to right, like music. She used to present her art with sound, which developed together with musicians who translate her brushstrokes into voices, rhythms, and noise.

    Published on 18.09.2025
    Written by Shih-Hsuan Lin.

Born in Fürth (Germany) in 2001, Karlotta Susanna Pöschko is currently studying at the Academy of Fine Arts Leipzig. Her artwork, mostly portraits, is driven by a deep connection to the silent dialogue between artist and model. These paintings, beyond depicting identities, let slip a vibration that elaborates her perception of presence into the world with a tender and soft approach. 

The materiality of textiles and fabrics plays a vital role in her practice. Gauze, steel, layered pigments: these are not embellishments, but surfaces that think, breathe, remember. In Pöschko’s hands, textile becomes a second body, a membrane between the figure and its image, both veiling and revealing. This sensitivity to material, as well as the insistence on the physicality of painting, resonates deeply with the heritage of the Leipzig School.

Karlotta Susanna Pöschko: Being in/to the world

PAINTING AS A TENSION BETWEEN SEEING AND BEING SEEN 

Her solo exhibition Between the Skin, presented by KÜSSE Berlin, focuses precisely on subtle dynamics, about those tensions that animate her portraits. In parallel, this article is part of the series “Between Their Eyes”, which delves into the personal narratives that unfold in her portraits, offering an intimate look into Pöschko’s creative vision. This first text shows the way she approaches the human figure. Along this process, it becomes more than an object on the canvas to be seen, but an invitation for a relationship. No matter where her exploration leads, she always returns to the figure. The human presence is, for her, an anchor point, always drawn back to. If KÜSSE Berlin provides the space to exhibit her paintings, it is the portrait that exposes itself. Not by displaying an image, but by unveiling a delicate interplay between seeing and being seen. Henceforth, gazing itself becomes a form of exhibition.   

In Pöschko’s work, the choice of a model is not driven by aesthetics: it is about an immediate resonance - almost instinctive. She is attracted to the energy emanated by someone. It could be in shaping and inscribing themselves in space, their gestures, their facial expressions, and how they reveal themselves to the world. Through her painting, Karlotta is exploring and representing the role of the gaze, always in a careful way. Accordingly, this experience of looking is fundamental to her vision: the figure is engaging in a sort of silent dialogue, above all, a form of exchange. However, for Karlotta, painting is dictated by uncertainty: she never knows what is coming next. Capturing the person always goes through an intense exchange, always confusing, even frightening. Portraiture carries tension, becomes a suspended moment where control slips away, and the act of looking imposes its authority. Then, each portrait becomes a confrontation. Bodies, as well as the gaze, are exhibited. The relationship with the model is de facto marked by this moment of change, where the person in front ceases to be to becomes an autonomous pictorial form, where the portrait ends up replacing the memory, the form of the person. This phenomenon of alienation takes place as much in portraits of her close, strangers, as in self-portraits.

Painting her mother becomes a real turning point, revealing how the painter’s gaze can unsettle the deepest bonds. Turning affection into observation, and closeness into a delicate tension, a fragile exposure, a sensitive vulnerability. Their relationship, as well as their role, was subtly shaken by this experience.

Regarding the autoportraits, this act of looking at herself becomes both an affirmation and an alienation. Karlotta describes moments of “losing herself in the mirror”, when the familiarity of her reflection starts to dissolve, and the boundaries between her and the outer world begin to fade. This makes her acknowledge that she exists, as a form and as a body. It is no longer seeing, but being inside.

THE REALISTIC FIGURE AS A SPACE FOR/OF CONNECTION

But to paint, for Pöschko, is mostly to connect. 

At the heart of her practice is the exploration of the in-between: between self and others, between visibility and invisibility, between intimacy and estrangement. Karlotta pays close attention to unique details of each individual, like a mirror of her reality, capturing specific elements that define them. These particularities then become subtle, indirect signs, illustrating Karlotta’s interpretation of their identity. Painting is about creating a space of relationship, where both the artist, the model, and even the viewer can meet in a shared vulnerability and exposure. The portraits are not objects to be looked at, but spaces to be inhabited. In these moments, the boundary lines between self and world blur. The figure on the canvas begins to become a site of connection and the presence of a common experience. The facial expression of the models is not a lack of emotion, but a path resulting from hours of work that leads to a unique access to their interiority. Through this slow, careful process of painting, Karlotta reveals this state of neutrality on the canvas, which allows a more complex truth to emerge: one that transcends.

Her portraiture’s vision is deeply aligned with phenomenological perspectives, where the body and the gaze are not isolated but always in relation to the surrounding world. For Karlotta, the portrait is a way to access the world, others, and to navigate between interiority and exteriority. The figure, her own and her model’s, is a call to openness and serves as a conduit through which relational existence is made visible. As her work enters public space through exhibitions such Between the Skin, another layer of tension emerges: a dialogue with viewers, who bring their gaze, their own interpretations and backgrounds into the fragile worlds she constructs. The portrait, in this sense, becomes a mirror not just for Karlotta and her models, but for anyone who looks at them long enough.

In Karlotta Susanna Pöschko's solo exhibition, Between the Skin, a series of portrait paintings is displayed. The sitters in these portraits include not only Karlotta’s friends and acquaintances but also strangers, as well as fellow artists who occupy the dual position of colleagues and friends. What distinct aesthetic sensations arise when shifting from being the artist to becoming the subject under observation? In the second part of the Between Their Eyes series, we interviewed Lison, Amelie, and Inga, three artists as Karlotta's models. We explored their creative journeys and sources of inspiration, while also understanding the roles and experiences when participating in another's artistic creation.

Lison Tureau Pezery:
Je(u), A Playground for Emotions

Paris-based artist Lison Tureau Pezery works across painting, illustration, printmaking, textiles, installation, and reading performance. For her, material experimentation functions less as a technical exercise but as a form of thinking-through-making to explore ideas.

Her practice often begins with personal experiences and relationships, yet always opens out toward the viewer. In her diploma exhibition, Muer sous mon Manteau (2025) at the École Nationale Supérieure des Arts Décoratifs in Paris, she presented wooden figures with strikingly large eyes, placed throughout the space as if playing hide-and-seek with the audience. She describes the project with the French pun Je(u), meaning both “I” and “play”, a way of framing her exhibitions as open worlds where viewers are invited to step inside and discover their own stories. Her figures, distinguished by their expressive eyes and reminiscent of a cartoon or graphic novel, inhabit the entire exhibition space, creating an immersive dimension. Varying in scale, these characters form a playful terrain that reshapes our relationship to the work. The scenography encourages movement and wandering among the pieces, prompting a reconsideration of proximity and distance in the encounter with art. In doing so, it invites reflection on the modes of reception and the experiential dimension of the work, fostering contemplation of fear, curiosity, and memory, ultimately questioning how emotion and affects are negotiated within the structures of adulthood.

During Lison’s ERASMUS program in Klasse Drechsel at Hochschule für Grafik und Buchkunst Leipzig, she met Karlotta in their painting class. She recalled that when Karlotta invited her to be the model, she was truly delighted and touched. Under Karlotta's brush, Lison sits quietly reading a book. The interesting thing is that reading has had a significant influence on both Lison's artistic creation and personal growth; she recites passages at her exhibitions and incorporates concepts from her favourite books into her work. Although Karlotta was unaware of Lison’s interest in literature, she requested her to adopt a reading pose. Tureau believes Karlotta captured a facet of her that she habitually keeps hidden. Just as Karlotta believes that painting portraits is a comfortable way for her to build connections, Lison also feels that during the process of Karlotta painting her portrait, she genuinely sensed their bond growing stronger. This feeling is truly precious to her.

INTERVIEW
KÜSSE Berlin
In Lison (2024) by Karlotta Susanna Pöschko, included in the Between the Skin’s work selection, you are the only one who looks away, while in your book. In parallel, your characters always face the audience with wide eyes. What role does the gaze play for you across these two different contexts?

Lison Tureau Pezery:
Karlotta chose the pose for me, and we talked a little about it. For her, the relationship in the portrait was not about direct eye contact, about looking at one another. Also, since we were classmates but not very close, it felt more like seeing each other without really exchanging. What’s interesting is that, although I often say eyes are what bring my characters to life, in her portrait, you don’t actually see much of my eyes. And yet she still managed to capture something very true about me. When I look at it, I realize she caught something I was perhaps trying to hide, something not easy for me to see in myself. It is a portrait, but in a way that reveals a deeper part of me.

KÜSSE Berlin
When you describe your work as from a personal experience that becomes collective, how do you conceptualize the notion of ‘collective’ in your practice?


Lison Tureau Pezery:
My work is always about different relationships and how they evolve, how you grow up through them. How you grow not only by yourself but also with other people. At first, it is very much about my own experience. But when I start working on the scenography and consider how to make it in space, that’s the moment when I think about creating a collective experience. (...) As I go through things in my own life, I’ve realized that at one point, it's things that we are all going through. So I try to position the public in a context where they can participate, play, engage, or find a place within it. I also aim for viewers to recognize aspects of their own lives or experiences within the work.

KÜSSE Berlin
Your ‘wordplay’ Je(u), ‘I’ and ‘play’ in French highlight the playful dimension of your practice and your display universe. Would you say that you imagine your exhibition as a kind of playground, where visitors can join your experience and also discover their own? Do you design your exhibition as an interactive or participatory environment?

Lison Tureau Pezery:
That was the point. I also think a lot about how not to be too rough for people who see my work. Sometimes, I feel that certain subjects, or the experience we go through, can be quite heavy. For me, games are a way to step aside, to create a space where people can position themselves inside. There are many possibilities to take it, either in a very emotional way or more lightly.

Although I still work a lot on my own, I’m also trying to include others in my creation, even though it wasn’t easy for me at first. Little by little, I try more and more, just to see what works. I’ve also experimented with different approaches, such as reading texts. In the exhibition, the first part was reading a simple text, which created a link with the show and also opened a new perspective on how people perceive and relate to it.


KÜSSE Berlin
In your exhibition “Muer sous mon Manteau” (2025), your installations evoke the tension and ambiguity between childhood and adulthood. How do you explore those boundaries? And is there a special meaning behind the big eyes your characters always display?

Lison Tureau Pezery
The theme of childhood became more present this year, because I’m leaving school, and I feel like I’ve had a life to follow since I was really small. I keep asking myself why we always separate childhood and adulthood. My work is also about certain aspects of childhood, such as curiosity or spontaneity. I’m searching for what I want to take from adulthood, or from being an adult. I’ve realized that maybe one part of becoming an adult is no longer expecting other people to fix your fears or provide solutions; you become the owner of your own fear. In this sense, all of my work was about searching for my own way of entering adulthood.

The big eyes came from a form I had learned when I was younger, and I rediscovered it at the beginning of the year. I thought it would be interesting to work with it again. For me, in the end, the eyes are what make characters alive. Without the expression in the eyes, there is nothing, because everything goes through them. That’s why the characters have these big eyes. I think they are also trying to hold on to people’s gaze, to keep the viewer’s look.

KÜSSE Berlin
Do you try to provide interpretive keys to guide your audience through your exhibitions, or do you prefer to leave the reception open?

Lison Tureau Pezery:
I write down all my thought processes, and choose to read some passages aloud. It’s not about explaining the process step by step, but more about sharing sentences that lie somewhere between poetry and storytelling. In this way, I don’t give direct answers, but instead I offer suggestions.

For example, in the exhibition ‘Muer sous mon Manteau’ I used chalk, the same kind children use to draw on playgrounds, to write sentences on the floor, especially the ones about fear. For me, it wasn’t about providing answers, but about opening things up, creating space for more questions rather than closing them.

Amelie Luca Staudhammer:
The Gift of Encounter

Amelie Luca Staudhammer studied at the Academy of Fine Arts Leipzig, a school known for its academic rather than conceptual approach in the painting department. It provided a fertile ground for the development of her technical expertise, which fostered her personal vision and creativity. From these brushstrokes emerged a space in which memory and imagination intersect, transforming painting into a site of critical and aesthetic exploration. Her work has evolved from biographical storytelling to a fictive, narrative perspective, while remaining consistently centered on the notion of encounter. Each canvas captures moments of joy, intimacy, and shared presence, serving as reflections of what she seeks to cultivate in her life. Looking at her work is like stepping into her world, where individual experiences acquire the resonance of collective emotion. Her recent artistic productions embrace complexity, engaging with themes of grief, loss, and transformation, which will be on display in June next year. They reflect on processes of change, of letting go, and of discovering new forms of being. Longing for atmosphere and resonance rather than figurative representation, Amelie consistently seeks interaction, positioning her work within a dynamic dialogue between perception and reception. Through oil painting, photography, installations, and frescoes, she engages with forms and colors, exploring their interplay and expressive potential.

During her studies, Amelie posed as a portrait model, often alongside Karlotta Susanna Pöschko. However, with Amelie (2024), modeling assumed a different dimension, as Karlotta was a professional artist actively producing her own work. It was no longer a simple collaboration, but rather an act of offering. Amelie describes her gesture as a gift to her friend, one that embodies more than generosity, a precise modality of human exchange that shaped their bond, while she herself received the gift of being portrayed by a truly skilled paintress and friend. In the painting, a part of this reality continues to live before our eyes. For example, the fur, a central texture enveloping Amelie, is the result of their collaboration and comfortable relationship, creating a theatrical environment in which they can play around. The coat, as well as the hat, incorporates elements of their belongings, merging them into a single, warm, and softly tactile piece, framed together. Moreover, Amelie’s position and gaze toward the paintings, guided by Karlotta, endow a timeless quality to the scene, while the discreet yet shiny and luminous detail of her lip piercing anchors it firmly within the present.

INTERVIEW
KÜSSE Berlin
How has your artistic practice evolved, and how do you approach the creative process in relation to your personal experiences?

Amelie Luca Staudhammer:
I would say the creative process is one of its own. I didn't learn it at school, and it took me some time to get it. It’s a lot about letting go of perfectionism and judgment, but at the same time, juggling with power and the will to master a painting. The nudes represent sequences of my life that were important in my early 20s, all this sexual exploration. In general, it is much easier for me to make art about biographical content after I closed that chapter, so I feel much more like a “Chronist” of my own story than a way of expressing emotions to regulate myself in the moment.

KÜSSE Berlin
You mentioned a lot about how connections between people inspire you. How do these collective aspects shape your artistic practice, especially in contrast to the solitude of creating art?

Amelie Luca Staudhammer:
I wanted to portray connections through groups and their dynamics, and the feeling of being part of something larger. In my life, I think this comes from trying to understand those typical social dynamics. I did a lot of team sports, and it was always striking to observe how a single person could completely shift the group's way of treating each other, way over their physical presence and long after they’ve left the group. Negatively and for sure also positively. Another key moment for me was the shared feeling of coherence that you can experience in music, by listening to each other and playing with them, but also in sports when you reach this certain flow and a “Spielzug” works out perfectly. That feeling of connection has always been central for me. 

With art, it is different, because most of the time you work in solitude, unless you engage in collective projects (which I can very much recommend). I think I was missing that sense of shared experience, so I tried to bring it more into my practice, finding ways to weave this collective energy into something that is often created alone.

KÜSSE Berlin
What kind of connection do you experience with the people you paint, and how do you navigate the balance between being the artist creating the portrait and the subject being portrayed? Did you also do self-portraits?

Amelie Luca Staudhammer:
Connection happens when I paint live; the person is sitting in front of me, like Karlotta does. It’s a very important decision whether you paint live or from a photograph. Because the most special thing is that the person is willingly presenting themself to you. It takes some courage and trust to take the time to sit there, probably feeling a little exposed. After all, it can be really exhausting to sit in one posture for so long. For me, the translation from 3D into 2D is an interesting process, because it includes some kind of abstract practice. Generally, the portrayed is most of the time grateful to have this experience if they have never did it before. Because it can feel really refreshing to be studied and not judged. The artist searches and worships the individual features opposing some societal standards we all know. I myself started portraying first, and then I was portrayed. In our first year, we portrayed each other all the time in school. So, you really get used to it. 

Go ahead and try some modelling, it's fun.

KÜSSE Berlin
One can sense there is a powerful atmosphere and a quiet tension in the gaze of Karlotta’s portraits. In your view, what makes her paintings so unique?

What I think is special about Karlotta’s portraits is how she chooses her models in a very particular way. She gets inspired by people, searching for a certain look. She already has an idea of how the painting should feel and how the person should feel to become part of her work. She delicately knots her own vision and style with the specific spark she sees in that person. So, I was really honoured to be portrayed by her.  

Her work is soft and sensitive, but also very clear in a way. She determines with a strong vision what she wants, and that is what is magnetic about her work. These qualities that come together: sensitivity, clear vision, and a somewhat strong, warm, unmovable centeredness. To see her in the act of painting definitely changed my view and understanding of her being an artist. To watch her painting was truly beautiful to witness.

Inga Wójcik:
Coding a language of Color and Sound

Inga Wójcik’s artwork doesn’t stop at the canvas; it spills into music, visual language, and memory. With a mathematician father, she grew up surrounded by codes and structures, and this influence is reflected in her art.  Her work iconically transcends the confines of size and canvas. Frequently employs shades of limited color tones, complemented by fluid brushstrokes and lines that flow freely across walls and boundaries. Instead of telling stories directly, she invents her own symbols, arranging them like notes on a score. Her paintings can be read left to right, like music. She used to present her art with sound, which developed together with musicians who translate her brushstrokes into voices, rhythms, and noise.

Inga’s inspiration path began with graphic design and graffiti, an attempt to escape the distance of the white cube, always pushing herself out of her comfort zone. Later in Leipzig, she met Karlotta, whose presence left a lasting mark on her practice. Talking about Karlotta and her art, Inga shared that she considers them to be rooted in hyper-realistic portraits, the kind of work that demands patience, discipline, and the courage to confront intimacy head-on. For Inga, this approach felt both fascinating and terrifying. Modeling for Karlotta was also deeply challenging. Standing still while a close friend observed every detail of her face and body. She felt nervous and tense, but it was also made by her dearest friend in a loving environment. Their differences became a dialogue: Karlotta’s steadiness and focus balanced Inga’s unconstrainedness and chaos, while Inga’s spontaneity and restless energy unsettled and inspired in return. Together they built not just a friendship but a creative counterpoint, a reminder that art can grow through contrast as much as through similarity.

Back in Warsaw, Inga stripped her palette down to three colors, brown, pink, and pale paper tones, each carrying emotional or historical weight. Brown recalls old manuscripts and transcriptions; the light paper tones suggest fragility and memory, while pink channels sadness and intensity. Now working full-time as a painter and exhibiting internationally, from Warsaw to Vienna and Shanghai, Inga continues to build a personal language where painting, music, and story overlap. Her works remain open, coded systems that invite viewers not only to look but also to listen, to step closer, and find their own way of reading.

INTERVIEW
KÜSSE Berlin
Your artistic approach to code language and your conceptual vocabulary in paintings is profoundly distinctive, blending the sensory experiences of sight and sound. How did this creative idea originate?

Inga Wójcik:
I always wanted people to come closer and directly see what it is like inside my painting or what the painting could be about, and I thought about going outside the painting. When I was in Leipzig, I first began working with systems. By systems, I mean structures that already exist in the world. For me, trying to explain how I perceive things felt too complicated to put into a single language. So instead, I borrowed from systems like music scores or mathematics. In my practice, I started inventing my own symbols. I wasn’t always brave enough to tell my stories directly, so I transformed them into symbols, arranging them like notes on a staff. This gave me a structure: paintings that could be “read” left to right, like sheet music, with five guiding lines. Music became part of this process. I realized that when a painting is also a score, it gives the viewer an entry point: you don’t have to know the story, but you can follow the rhythm. I began working with two friends, a singer and a producer. Most of the time, they come to my studio, and we sit together while I explain what I think about a painting, or what it might be about (...) When people speak to me, I don’t always hear words or form images in my head. Instead, I see strange constructions. That’s why my paintings end up very structured, with straight lines mixed with more freehand ones. Now, when my work is shown, there is often a speaker behind the canvas: you step closer, you see the painting, and you also hear it.

KÜSSE Berlin
In the process of translating visual art into sound-based creations, how do you collaborate with your cross-disciplinary artist friends?


Inga Wójcik:
All the paintings are already connected to music, because I’m working with my own band. I’ve always been fascinated by music, but I never did anything directly related to it. For me, it’s more like an abstract way of thinking. I can hear the music straight from my painting, but I cannot actually compose it. Then, by surprise, I found two of my friends, one a singer and the other a music producer. We started talking, and they said that they can also hear the music. So we began putting sound into my paintings. Now, there is always a speaker behind the work, so you can come closer, see the painting, and also listen to it.

Most of the time, they come to my studio, and we sit together while I explain what my idea is about the painting, or what the painting is about. For example, I tell them if there is a dark point in the painting, that should become a heavier moment in sound. A light, blurry area might be turned into ambient noise. Bells, the rustling of trees, or the sound of scrubbing can all be part of it. We mix everything together. My friend, who is a singer, sometimes reads imaginary text-words that don’t exist but sound like they could. We record them with different effects, repeating the sounds until they turn into a kind of noise. It doesn’t carry meaning, but it exists, directed back at the painting. That’s how this collaboration works.

KÜSSE Berlin
Your palette seems very focused and symbolic. Why do you choose these particular colors, and how do they connect to your emotions or stories in the paintings?

Inga Wójcik:
I love to tell stories, sometimes mix reality and fiction, and I always need that dopamine and high emotion. I feel this is also how my paintings have changed. I had gone to Leipzig planning to study graphic design, but there I rediscovered painting and fell in love with it. Back home, I wanted to reinvent myself. Chaos was still everywhere around me, but I became braver and finally found the colors I liked. The technique I always wanted was painting, not just mixing colors, but creating something more precise. Now I use basically three colors. Brown, because I often talk about language and translation, putting the system into my own words. So when you have these old manuscripts, they’re all in this light brown color, like light paper. I thought that this color could visually explain why I'm using it. And pink comes from sadness and frustration, because I never paint when I’m happy. And the pale tones suggest fragility and memory. Painting lets me explore myself, to be different. But I still struggle with stability. I always feel the need to move, to change. It still feels unreal. I was able to quit my job and start painting full-time. Now, I even have exhibitions in places like Kyoto.

KÜSSE Berlin
How did your stay in Leipzig and your friendship with Karlotta shape your respective creative journeys?

Inga Wójcik:
I stayed in Leipzig for a year, and I decided to extend my time. I arrived in winter and ended up staying the whole year. In the end, Karlotta and I also did an exhibition together, because we wanted to see how our paintings might look side by side, with our different worlds. We often used similar colors, so there was always something that visually connected the works. Karlotta always wanted something stable, and around her, I felt very safe. I think that’s why we were such a good match. Leipzig was the beginning of that freedom: the first time I felt I could do whatever I wanted, in a new city, discovering myself. Stability still scares me; I always need to move, to change, but back then, Karlotta gave me that sense of safety I didn’t have on my own. Maybe that’s why we matched so well.