2024

An important theme of my artistic strolling research is models. By this I mean the conceptions, the constructions, I hold regarding myself and what lies outside of me. Testing these models, comparing them, supplementing them, holding them up against reality – this is an elementary part of my strolling.

The term "model" matters to me. As I observe it, my conceptions of the world, of other people, and of myself are an abstract and incomplete representation. It should not be confused with what actually happens and is. At best, it is founded on information I have drawn from reality. Viewed honestly, the quality and quantity of this information vary greatly. There are events about which I know a great deal. But there is also a great deal about which I know hardly anything, or nothing at all. It is in the nature of my models to deliver answers even on a thin basis of information. In my observation, things often go even further: the model already exists, and an attempt is made to fit reality to it. Much of what is connected with religion, for example, behaves in this way, in my opinion. What interests me is gathering as much information as possible and feeding my models with it. The better the quality and the more extensive my foundations, the more interesting the model. And in the end, my conception of everything that happens around me and with me is all I have. It is the space in which my life takes place.

In my reflections on these models, I refer explicitly to the history of physics and to some of its exponents, with whom I enjoy engaging. Put simply, physics long made predictions on the basis of Newtonian, classical mechanics – until it became ever more obvious that in certain domains there were smaller and larger deviations from reality: in the realm of the very fast and the very large as well as in that of the very small. Within the discipline, it was a painful and conflict-ridden process to recognise that the previous explanations hold only within very specific limits. Little by little, the theory of relativity and quantum mechanics prevailed. Today it is undisputed in physics that each of these is a model. What matters is knowing when which model allows correct predictions about reality and when it does not. And, crucially: it is not reality itself, but precisely a model. With my conceptions of the world – with "my models" – it is very similar, and I try to keep this insight present in my awareness.

A stroll, whether on two legs or in a figurative sense, is for me a method of comparing my models with reality. It begins with the endeavour to perceive and discover consciously. Since it is an engagement with myself, I can begin anywhere.

In my artistic work I have engaged with Darwin for a long time. Within these reflections in particular, this historical figure and his discoveries are highly interesting. On his voyage aboard the Beagle he observed, gathered information, recorded, and carried out experiments. His great strength was that he gave more weight to the observations of reality than to the models in his head. Of course, his conceptions and those of his contemporaries were, among other things, deeply shaped by religion. Time and again he had to note: what he observed deviated from the explanations of the world that were told in his time and in his culture. It should be added that this insight was in principle available to everyone else as well. It played out literally before everyone's eyes. Darwin gathered information, clues and evidence, and in this way tried to draw a picture fed by reality and by observation. He did not try to impose a story about the world onto reality. His explanation had to be verifiable.

Beyond this, there is much else that interests me about Darwin and that I consider important for a "strolling" way of working. It was by great coincidence that he ended up on that ship, the Beagle. He was curious and engaged seriously with what interested him and what caught his attention. This happened anything but systematically – and without a goal, let alone any foresight of what might one day come of it. He simply collected. One might even describe his approach as playful and exploratory. What is certain is that he simply engaged with what he encountered on that voyage. And he carried his work forward consistently and kept on researching. Only many years later did his theory of evolution emerge on the basis of this material.

 

Postscript, 2026

Two years on, I would like to add something to these reflections. I described models here above all as incomplete representations to be tested against reality. That is true – but it is half the observation. The other half: without models, I perceive nothing at all. Cognitive science describes the brain as a prediction machine: it continually generates expectations and compares them with the incoming sensory data; what we see is always already a mixture of model and measurement. The model, then, is not only the source of error – it is the condition of seeing.

I would also refine my description of Darwin today. He did not observe without models – no one can. Observation is always permeated by conceptions; Darwin himself wrote to Henry Fawcett in 1861 that every observation must be for or against some view if it is to be of any service. His strength lay elsewhere: he sacrificed his models to his observations whenever the two collided.

By now, this stance has reached my painting as well. In the series Symptoms of Life I work on the reverse side of raw linen, without any view of the emerging image. For that very reason I try to be strolling while I paint: not working from my conceptions, but deciding, acting and reacting out of the moment – playful, exploratory, opening myself to what material and situation offer. And yet, inevitably, a conception forms of what might be happening on the other side. A model – it is all I have. Only turning the canvas confronts this conception with reality. The traces on the front are my points of measurement.

 

Sources:

• Craik, K. (1943): The Nature of Explanation. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
• Friston, K. (2010): "The free-energy principle: a unified brain theory?". Nature Reviews Neuroscience, 11, pp. 127–138.
• Clark, A. (2013): "Whatever next? Predictive brains, situated agents, and the future of cognitive science". Behavioral and Brain Sciences, 36(3), pp. 181–204.
• Hanson, N.R. (1958): Patterns of Discovery. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
• Darwin, C., letter to H. Fawcett, 18 September 1861. Darwin Correspondence Project, letter 3257.