Your work often carries a consistent sense of restrained color palette, analog textures, generous use of space, and quiet tone. What kinds of thoughts or sensations are embedded within that sense of quiet?Well, from a technical perspective I use space as a tool to organize hierarchies not only in terms of reading but also rhythm and tone. I’m drawn to compositions that maintain a sense of formal economy where every decision carries weight and nothing is included just for decoration.
Many of the features often associated with my work like the reduced color palette or analog textures don’t necessarily come from an aesthetic pursuit but from the process itself. I often print and scan the pieces because I need to hold in my hands what I see on the screen. There are also cases where I deliberately add textures to introduce a tactile quality.
That said, I’m simply not interested in excess. If something already works with less, why add more? I work with a logic in which space plays an active role. Leaving air between elements helps me see more clearly and pay attention without feeling overwhelmed. Silence in this context is not a metaphor. It’s a practical condition. Visual noise distracts me. I find it uncomfortable. I prefer the work to be present and available but not imposing.
In a past interview, you mentioned that you value “leaving things unresolved,” and earlier you also spoke about things remaining in an unresolved state. What does that sense of incompleteness or openness mean to you?That sense of openness or incompleteness, for me, is a way of letting the work stay open and not collapse in on itself. It means the meaning isn’t fixed from the start. I’m interested in pieces that aren’t fully resolved, that retain a certain structural ambiguity. I don’t want the work to exhaust everything that can be thought or felt about it. Sometimes a visual composition holds more strength in what it suggests than in what it states. And in that space, where not everything is defined, there’s room for a more personal experience on the viewer’s side.
Of course, that gets more complicated when the work is for someone else. When there’s a commission, an external need, or a concrete objective, that openness can become a problem. Sometimes what I deliver doesn’t fully align with the expectations of the person who asked for it. And then I have to decide whether it’s worth adjusting the piece, clarifying it, or making it more direct. I’m not always willing to do that. There are decisions I make knowing they might not be easily understood, but that I see as essential to preserving the integrity of the process. It depends a lot on the relationship with the other party, the context of the project, and how emotionally or conceptually involved I am in that particular piece. I don’t follow a fixed rule. But in general, if I feel the work loses its strength by trying to fit, I’d rather hold onto the disagreement, even if that means delivering something that doesn’t fully meet expectations or deciding to walk away from the project altogether.