Christoph Purer

Built from fragments. Shaped by persistence.

My art follows no concepts and no designs. I do not begin with a fixed idea of what a painting should become — and I do not want it to prescribe what someone else should see in it. Meaning needs no guidance. It arises in the moment of experience — in memories that surface, in feelings that shift, in something subtle that resonates without explanation.

My decisions come from memory. Not from concrete stories or clear images, but from fragments — a colour combination I once noticed, light on a wall, a tree on the horizon, a fleeting atmosphere that stayed. I do not try to reproduce these moments. I rearrange them, layer them, blur them. Like memories themselves, they shift over time and take on new forms.

For me, the process follows the same logic. I usually begin with a feeling — a colour memory, a particular tension I want to explore — but without a clear picture of where it will lead. I move colour across the canvas and respond to what appears. Sometimes it feels wrong, even disturbing — but I stay with it. I keep going until something shifts. Until there is a response. A tension. A connection.

That is the moment I know the work is heading in the right direction. Not when it looks finished — but when it feels alive.