Hidden Places

I collect them the way others collect found objects. Places that suddenly open up in the middle of everyday life. Spaces that do not announce themselves loudly but quietly whisper their own story. I call them “Hidden Places,” even though they are not truly hidden. You only have to look differently for a moment. More quietly, perhaps. More attentively.

These images are not depictions, they are states of being. They do not tell where I was, but how it felt to be there. How light and space met, how architecture, for the length of a breath, was no longer functional but a stage for something larger. For stillness. For longing. For retreat. For an inner world.

Often no one is in sight. And yet these places do not feel empty, but charged. As if someone had just left the room or were about to appear in the doorway again. They are reflections, not only in water or glass, but within. Mirror images of what we sometimes need in order to disappear for a while.

The size of the works is no accident. I want you to be able to immerse yourself in them. To lose yourself, at least for a moment. Some motifs recall film scenes, others paintings. Some are clear, others seem fallen out of a dream. But all of them tell of a place you will not find on any map.

A place within us.