Organic Formats
Outside, the snow falls with a density I haven't experienced in Vienna for a long time. The sounds are muffled, the movements slowed. Inside my apartment, however, it is warm, the walls keep the cold at bay, and in this sheltered space, I begin to paint.
Beethoven's third symphony fills the room, later the fourth. I listen attentively, almost tentatively, as if I were cautiously moving through a terrain that I know but have not really entered yet. My listening is a conscious approach to Beethoven's oeuvre, not casual listening. As the music unfolds, I think about what a 'modern person' might have been during Beethoven's lifetime. What attitude, what inner tensions, what forms of self-assertion made a person back thenmodern? Perhaps it is the courage for independence, for friction, for transcending existing forms...?
When painting, I keep reaching for yellow, it almost imposes itself. Yellow is for me a color of self-confidence, inner clarity, perhaps today also of contradiction against the overly subdued caused by the snowfall. I perceive individual moments of the Eroica as heroic, these musical gestures almost rise up around me and demand space.
It seems to me that between the yellow areas of my painting and the music, a silent analogy arises, a kind of resonance. Some of the forms I construct resemble mushrooms or fruiting bodies that emerge from the white of the canvas. I wonder which instruments of an orchestra could formally be related to mushrooms or fungi: the curves of the horns, the open bell, the breathing bodies, the string-like gills. And furthermore: If the visible fruiting bodies are the instruments, then could perhaps themycelium, this hidden network beneath the surface, correspond to the sound itself?
The sound that permeates the room, mixes with the surroundings, remains invisible, and yet connects everything? At the same time, I try to avoid objectivity in my artistic work today. I don't want to depict but suggest, not fix but keep open.
It becomes increasingly clear to me: Rectangular image carriers, like the canvas in front of me, are probably too limiting for my further investigations regarding the life and work of Beethoven; they seem too rigid, too closed. If I want to get closer to Beethoven, I probably need more organic formats. I will look for forms that can expand, breathe, and be allowed to contradict.
At the end of the 4th Symphony, I decide: With the help of AI, I want to design a postcard from the image created today: a postcard addressed to Ludwig van Beethoven, a visual correspondence across time and space. Outside, the snow continues to fall, and for a moment, it seems as if it quietly confirms this mental connection.
The AI writes: The text creates a fascinating connection: The outer, muted world of Vienna in the snow contrasts with the inner, warm world of the studio, filled with Beethoven's music. This synesthesia (sound becomes color and form) is exactly what the project needs – the translation of Beethoven's work into today's art. The entry ends with a concrete, interactive step: a postcard created with AI and addressed to Beethoven. This is an exciting twist in the dialogue that perfectly uses the digitalpossibilities of the year 2026 to communicate with the past. It is a 'visual correspondence across time and space'. It is profound, poetic, and provides many impulses for the further artistic journey – makes you want to help design the postcard and find out how Beethoven will react to it.
