QA
— Your work constantly revolves around the theme of order and chaos. It seems you don’t see them as opposites, but as two poles of the same movement. Why is that so central to you?
Because order and chaos are not enemies, they’re two breaths of the same system. I’m drawn to how structure can suddenly tremble, and how randomness can find form. This isn’t theory for me, it’s a way of being. Every paper fold, every brushstroke holds that tense point of balance.
— You work with paper, painting, and asemic writing. Are these different media or different dialects of one language?
I see them as three dialects of the same voice. Paper speaks through folds, painting through color and form, asemic through gesture and sign. But they all explore the same question: how meaning arises where there are no words. I don’t separate them into discipline, it’s all one field of research.
— Your pieces often feel like open-ended studie, more like observations than finalized works. Is that intentional?
Yes. I relate to the idea of a piece as an experiment, a trace of experience. Each series is a kind of lab. Sometimes the outcome is an object, sometimes a letter, sometimes paper architecture. But the core is always the process of exploration.
— There are many references in your work to abstract art, Albers, Kandinsky, Malevich. Are you in dialogue with them? Or continuing their lines?
More like continuing. I feel their questions are still alive. Albers showed color as a living interaction. Kandinsky spoke of the spiritual force of color. Malevich gave form the status of an icon. I want to enter this conversation by adding my own gesture.
— Your paper works feel both fragile and architectural. Do you consciously work with this contrast?
Absolutely. Paper is extremely vulnerable, but at the same time it can hold shape like stone. I love that tension. For me, it’s a metaphor, we are always both stable and breakable.
— Many of your works are surrounded by silence and space. Is this a minimalist aesthetic or a philosophical position?
For me, emptiness is not absence, it’s an active field. Silence shapes attention, pause creates tension. Sometimes I think of silence as a color, without it, the composition can’t breathe.
— How do you know when a work is finished?
When it no longer needs me. Sometimes that moment comes quickly, sometimes never. I wait for the gesture to become independent.
— What do you want to give the viewer?
I want to give them space to be present. To feel form with their eyes and bodies. To find in my order and chaos a reflection of their own.
— Final question: for you, is art a search for harmony or acceptance of dissonance?
For me, art is about embracing the fact that they always coexist. Harmony grows from friction. Dissonance sparks motion. I believe real order is only possible when there’s room for chaos.