Biography 018
Christiane Fichtner - Biography
Biography of Christiane Fichtner – born in
1974, artist in 2007
I: Ms. Fichtner,
you were born in 1974, and already at the age of six you showed signs of having
artistic talent…
C. F.: That’s
not entirely correct. In 1982 we were in the process of moving and my parents
found a picture on the wall under my bed. I had drawn it with chalk like a
prehistoric cave drawing. At first they couldn’t believe that I had
made it.
I: Why not? What was the picture about?
C. F.: Bears and
giraffes. They were my favorite animals at the time. Apparently, the drawing
was unusually precise for a child. I showed my parents other drawings I had
done and then they believed me. They tried to encourage my talent. The cave
drawing has since been painted over long ago, of course…
I: And that just
about sums up your work as an artist. You’ve been painting only a single
canvas since 1993. Each picture is painted over the last one, obliterating
it. The current picture gets exhibited, but you won’t let any of your
work be documented on film.
C. F.: “Obliterate”
sounds so dramatic. I don’t destroy the pictures. Many pictures can
even be seen through the new layers for quite a long time. In 1996, I had
a phase when I painted very impasto. I couldn’t get rid of the unevenness
or smooth it out. You can still see some of the unevenness today. It’s
part of the overall work, and it’s a part of me. I primed the canvas
again only once. That was in 2002. I hadn’t touched a paintbrush in
six months. That was a watershed moment in my life. I decided to start over
again. What I mean is that the canvas is a reflection of my own life. There
are cracks now in the thick layers of paint – I’m getting wrinkles
(laughs).
I: Why don’t
you keep these “mirror reflections” of your life? It would be
so interesting if we could actually follow your artistic development.
C. F.: To me, art
is something born out of the moment. It’s like jazz or improvisational
theater. You wouldn’t try to record every jazz or improvised performance
either. If you can remember them, then they meant something to you. You probably
can remember only certain moments that happened in your life as well. I exhibit
my painting and people can see it, but sooner or later I paint over it. If
people remember what the previous picture looked like, that’s great.
If not, then it didn’t mean much to them. I’m not painting for
the sake of posterity. There were many painters who were only interested in
the moment of painting. William Turner is just one example. He used colors
he knew would fade quickly. Some pictures he kept in damp corners of his studio,
where they cracked and began to mold. That didn’t bother him at all.
I: In a way, your
art is like a happening…
C. F.: I don’t
like to be pigeonholed. A lot has been written about me since 2006. My picture
has been described as a “manifest of transience”, and I’ve
been called a “dramatic” artist. It’s difficult to shake
off such authoritative statements.
I don’t paint because I want to be an artist, but because I have an
inner need to paint.
¬ 001 ¬ 002 ¬ 003 ¬ 004 ¬ 005 ¬ 006 ¬ 007 ¬ 008 ¬ 009 ¬ 010 ¬ 011 ¬ 012 ¬ 013 ¬ 014 ¬ 015 ¬ 016 ¬ 017 ¬ 018 ¬ 019 ¬ 020 ¬ 021 ¬ 022 ¬ 023 ¬ 024 ¬ 025
