Artists on focus @ Sofia Art Fair

Artists on Focus

“Artists on Focus is a special space within the Sofia Art Fair 2025, dedicated to sculptural, object and installation works that provoke dialogue and form an additional dimension in the accompanying program of the exhibition.

“On focus” will be presented works by contemporary authors, without age or nationality restrictions, that are relevant to the theme of Sofia Art Fair for 2025: Imagine – imaginary worlds and possible realities.” (source: https://sofiaartfair.art/en/exhibitor/artists-on-focus/)

I am happy to have been invited to be part of the Artists on focus exhibition that takes place during the Sofia Art Fair 2025. I will show my work ‘Straight from the tree’, which is an ongoing series that started its existence during my stay at a beautiful Artist in Residence programm in the far north of Norway. It reimagines our connection to nature and how we, as human beings try to control everything that comes out of it.

I am happy to invite you to come and see the art fair from October 2nd – 5th at Sofia Tech Park, Bulgaria.

Thursday, October 2, 2025 / 16:00 – 20:00
Friday, October 3, 2025 / 11:00 – 20:00
Saturday, October 4, 2025 / 11:00 – 20:00
Sunday, October 5, 2025 / 11:00 – 20:00

Ceramics, paint
2025
size variable

Three small, silver-coloured ceramic birds sit on the floor. They’re not any particular species—just the familiar outline of “a bird” the way a child might draw one. They’re gathered together, but not interacting, each one quietly minding its own business.

Above them, in big, loose, handwritten silver letters, the wall reads: Als Langeweile noch ein Beschäftigung war — “When boredom was still an occupation.” The words are in German because this piece first appeared in Germany, but also because, somehow, the phrase feels heavier, slower, in that language.

Like much of my work, it began with noticing. These little birds came from the way I watch public spaces—small, unremarkable presences that seem to belong there without needing to explain themselves. There’s a kind of quiet humor in that—like they’re part of a scene that doesn’t realise it’s being watched.

Paired with the text, the piece drifts between poetry and play, between observation and suggestion. The silver makes the scene glint just enough to catch the eye, but not enough to hold it in place. What happens after that is left open—the work simply waits, letting each viewer decide whether to linger, to smile, or to move on.

Can, resin, paint, wood
2025
40x40x110cm

It’s just a dented cola can—only now it’s gold. It sits on the matte black surface of a small, perfectly square table I built, still letting go of its last drop of some unknown, neutral, white liquid. A tiny, ordinary moment, frozen. 

I keep coming back to things like this. Little details most people walk past without a glance—yet once you really look, they open up. They can be funny, a bit sad, strangely beautiful. This piece is my way of holding onto one of those moments and giving it room to breathe.

The gold is a bit of a game. It’s reverent, but also tongue-in-cheek. It makes me wonder: is the beauty already there, or does it appear when we decide to notice it? At the same time, there’s a quiet nod to how we consume things—how quickly we move from wanting something to discarding it, how the last sip rarely matters as much as the first.

For me, this work lives in that in-between place—part tenderness, part irony—trying to see what’s worth holding onto before it’s gone.

All means to new ideas @HS4

Open Studios at Hans-Schmidt-Straße 4
For this year’s open studios, I transformed my workspace at Hans-Schmidt-Straße 4 into a presentation space and created a new exhibition, featuring mostly recent works. This show continues the thread of my previous project at Kunstverein Eisenturm in Mainz, where I explore poetic installations that reflect on the relationship between people and their immediate environments.

In many ways, my practice functions like that of an amateur anthropologist—untrained, but deeply observant. I use the tools of art to investigate how we relate to our surroundings: not only in a physical sense, but also through social, cultural, and communicative structures. The more I develop this body of work, the clearer it becomes how this perspective has quietly shaped everything I’ve done. These new pieces bring that focus fully to the surface, drawing connections across past works and sharpening the direction of my practice.

For what it’s worth.

It’s just a dented cola can—only now it’s gold. It sits on the matte black surface of a small, perfectly square table I built, still letting go of its last drop of some unknown, neutral, white liquid. A tiny, ordinary moment, frozen.

I keep coming back to things like this. Little details most people walk past without a glance—yet once you really look, they open up. They can be funny, a bit sad, strangely beautiful. This piece is my way of holding onto one of those moments and giving it room to breathe.

The gold is a bit of a game. It’s reverent, but also tongue-in-cheek. It makes me wonder: is the beauty already there, or does it appear when we decide to notice it? At the same time, there’s a quiet nod to how we consume things—how quickly we move from wanting something to discarding it, how the last sip rarely matters as much as the first.

For me, this work lives in that in-between place—part tenderness, part irony—trying to see what’s worth holding onto before it’s gone.

Als Lange Weile Noch Eine Beschäftigung War

 Three small, silver-coloured ceramic birds sit on the floor. They’re not any particular species—just the familiar outline of “a bird” the way a child might draw one. They’re gathered together, but not interacting, each one quietly minding its own business.

Above them, in big, loose, handwritten silver letters, the wall reads: Als Langeweile noch ein Beschäftigung war — “When boredom was still an occupation.” The words are in German because this piece first appeared in Germany, but also because, somehow, the phrase feels heavier, slower, in that language.

Like much of my work, it began with noticing. These little birds came from the way I watch public spaces—small, unremarkable presences that seem to belong there without needing to explain themselves. There’s a kind of quiet humor in that—like they’re part of a scene that doesn’t realise it’s being watched.

Paired with the text, the piece drifts between poetry and play, between observation and suggestion. The silver makes the scene glint just enough to catch the eye, but not enough to hold it in place. What happens after that is left open—the work simply waits, letting each viewer decide whether to linger, to smile, or to move on.

The making of new ideas (series of framed drawings)

These four drawings are part of a much bigger series. The first ones came about while I was sketching for an earlier work, Some Other Memory (2019). They were quick, loose ideas—just part of the process back then.

A while later, I came across some of those early sketches again. That moment kicked off a new chain of work, which eventually became For What It’s Worth.

A nice evening at Eisenturm

On Friday, October 11th, I was thrilled to open my latest exhibition, Ich wunder mich, at Kunstverein Eisenturm in Mainz. The evening began with introductions by Petra Schippers, president of the Kunstverein, and art historian Miriam Maslowski, with whom I had the pleasure of a public conversation discussing the ideas behind the exhibited works.

Ich wunder mich delves into my ongoing research on human perception and cognition, exploring the diverse ways we interpret and interact with the world around us. I am particularly drawn to the often-overlooked details that surround us daily, and the subtle beauty or poetry within elements that many might consider unattractive or mundane. This exhibition transforms these themes into poetic, narrative-driven installations that invite reflection—a quiet celebration of cognitive diversity and the richness it brings to our experience of the world.

Urban sanctuary

The first work viewers encounter is a room-sized installation, called Urban sanctuary, featuring three white platforms, each suspended at different heights from ropes attached to the ceiling. The largest platform contains a sewer lid, from which a bright, white light radiates. Scattered across the platforms are numerous ceramic birds: two are perched near the illuminated sewer lid, while the others maintain a noticeable distance, choosing the remaining platforms instead.

This work finds its origin in a seemingly insignificant moment I observed over a year ago. Leaving a park on a warm summer day, I passed the back entrance of a shopping mall where delivery trucks are unloaded. Amid the litter and on a rough concrete slab, I noticed two birds lingering near a sewer lid. This simple scene, in its unexpected beauty, inspired a reflection on the quiet, unnoticed spaces in urban life.

In this new setting, the work takes on a surreal quality, crafting a poetic narrative that deepens the beauty and mystery of the frozen moment. Rather than solving the enigma or imposing ideas, it invites the viewer to linger in the unanswered.

Still life with bird

As you enter the second room, you encounter Still Life with Bird, positioned directly opposite the entrance. The installation consists of five wooden poles arranged in a row, evoking the quiet presence of a fence. Perched on one of the poles is a single ceramic bird, coated in concrete. This sculptural piece emanates a sense of calm and tranquillity, a stark contrast to the polarising intensity and activism often found in our surroundings and within today’s art world.

Still Life with Bird is purposefully non-political, even anti-political. It resists carrying any overt message, inviting viewers to experience it simply for what it is—a quiet scene, untouched by commentary, a still life with a bird.

All together now
(101 birds on a square meter)

In the opposite corner of the room sits a second piece called All together now: 101 ceramic birds densely packed into a single square meter. This work evokes the bustling atmosphere of a city square, where flocks of birds gather in search of food. It feels as though a slice of urban life has been cut out and placed here in the gallery.

The busy, chaotic scene within the square contrasts sharply with the room’s quiet ambiance, while the strict geometry of the installation resonates with the gallery’s architectural elements—the tiled floor, square windows, and the linear design of the radiators. This interplay of forms and energies creates a compelling visual tension within the space.

Umweltfarben (4 landwerkzeuge)

During the installation, the third room at Kunstverein Eisenturm unexpectedly took on a theme reminiscent of If Paradise Is Half As Nice—a project I’ve contributed to over the past 11 years. The works in this room were all created during the last three editions of this collaborative initiative.

Umweltfarben (4 landwerkzeuge), he first piece, positioned on the left wall as you enter, features four agricultural tools hanging from nails as they might in a traditional shed. On closer inspection, each tool reveals a unique, natural monochrome, achieved through coatings of shredded leaves or grass. This work subtly gestures toward rural life, where nature and culture seamlessly blend, and aims to evoke a poetic view of life in the countryside.

Without imposing a particular viewpoint, this piece invites viewers to contemplate life in rural settings. The tools, with their vintage feel, evoke a sense of nostalgia, hinting at a past era without asserting whether it was better or worse—leaving that interpretation open to the viewer.

Measures for a long life

Measures for a Long Life was created during If Paradise Is Half As Nice #13, held in northern Norway as part of the Salangen Biennale. For five weeks, I lived and worked in an abandoned factory building where, by law, the festival organizers were required to install smoke alarms and fire extinguishers throughout the crumbling concrete structure—a space with few windows left intact.

Intrigued by the rigidity of these regulations in such a desolate space, I collected three old fire extinguishers of different models and encased them in concrete, merging them with the stark remnants of the former factories. This work invites multiple interpretations: preserved in concrete, the extinguishers are protected yet rendered functionally obsolete. They evoke a connection to the building’s industrial past, when these factories were vibrant and active. At the same time, the piece hints at our tendency to over-regulate and minimize risk, stripping away elements of adventure and spontaneity from our lives.

In this exhibition, the work has been detached from its original surroundings, thus adding a new chapter in its story.

Could I join your party?

The third work in this room features a white plinth surrounded by white plaster casts of dented, used spray cans, scattered as if left behind after a graffiti session. Like Measures for a Long Life, this piece displays objects that appear to have absorbed the characteristics of their environment—in this case, taking on the pristine whiteness and order of the gallery space.

The title of this work holds particular importance, offering two layers of interpretation. On one hand, it suggests an invitation to enter the world of street art, a sphere quite distant from my usual practice. Alternatively, it speaks to self-doubt—questioning whether I could truly belong in that culture or if my work would ever “fit in.”

In many ways, this piece subtly questions the “white cube” gallery tradition, reflecting on my position within the art world and exploring the contrasts between the raw, expressive nature of street art and the controlled space of the gallery.

Photo’s: Maryna Semenkova, Ties Ten Bosch

Curator: Barbara Schwarz

Thanks to Petra Schippers, Miriam Maslowski, Kunstverein Eisenturm, Maryna Semenkova, Ronny Lischinski, Ceramic Kingdom and all participants of If Paradise Is Half As Nice.

All works and images © Ties Ten Bosch