It begins with bubbling colors and a man who is increasingly pursued by colours that splash onto house facades and by rivulets of colour that follow him like lava. The man hurries and stumbles on, looking around and behind him as if he feels pursued. The thriller intensifies. A brief stop at the subway, then it continues at breakneck speed through the streets of Berlin. He staggers and keeps running, stops briefly in the sunny park of Pfaueninsel, this beautiful jewel of the former Prussian imperial court far out on Wannsee, and runs on. The colours pursue him ever more intensely. Finally, he enters a studio, narrowly escaping the splashes of paint on the outside wall. But here, inside the studio, there are countless pots of paint, tubes of paint lying wildly on top of each other and a first moment of pleasant calm. He takes a short breath and then picks up a lump of brightly mixed paint. He holds it as if he is weighing up what to do with this dazzling pound…. You can already guess that the lump of paint will be hurled onto the still unfinished canvas leaning against the studio wall: onto this field of infinite possibilities, where the colours will cavort and spread out dynamically.
The short trailer “Flying colours” entices the viewer to get involved in this multifaceted game with which the artist Sebastian Heiner moves through the world. Always on the move, always on the move and full of impressions, which he transforms into colour flows and colour cosmos. It is easy to read the variety of external impulses in his painting without actually interpreting them as a direct translation of what he sees, especially as he dispenses with figurative or narrative structures. In Sebastian Heiner’s work, everything moves in an abstract colour space and yet one experiences energy flows and colour dynamics. Sebastian Heiner benefits from his life and work in different cultures, his frequent commuting between Asia and Europe, his longer working stays in Beijing and Shanghai, and finally in Bangkok as well as his travels through the Caucasus, Israel and Jordan. Movement and dynamism, the avoidance of stagnation and the driven search for the constantly new are characteristics that he inscribes in his impasto layers of paint. He works with colour as a substance. The pastosity of the paint forms the physical space that condenses the emotions. To achieve this, Sebastian Heiner often uses unusual painting tools and applies the paint with full physical effort. Basically, he makes use of all the freedoms and possibilities that artists before him had developed since the emergence of Abstract Expressionism and Art Informel. As art was looking for a new direction after the end of the Second World War, people initially returned to the beginnings of Expressionism, in which colour and the originality of expression were discovered. Wassily Kandinsky, on the one hand, and Paul Klee, on the other, were the leading, clever minds who also pushed this forward scientifically. As early as 1911, Kandinsky emphasized the emotional power of colour in his book “On the Spiritual in Art”, which he then explored analytically in his Bauhaus teachings. Paul Klee wrote enthusiastically to his wife in 1913 during his so-called Tunis trip, which he undertook with his friends August Macke and Louis Moilliet: “The colour got me.”
For the generations of artists who followed from Expressionism after 1945, colour took central stage and was now often clearly linked to their own physicality: Pollock invented paint dripping by letting paint drip onto the canvas by swinging his arms and body, the German pioneer K.O. Götz used scrubbing brushes and brooms to spread paint swiftly over huge formats and distribute it on the canvas with great momentum and the French artist Georges Mathieu squeezed the paint directly from the tube onto the canvas. Even filling becomes superfluous for him. The possibilities that opened were numerous and the artists were extremely keen to experiment. The materiality of paint as substance and colour value became even more prominent in the following years, particularly in the work of the Art Informel artist Gerhard Hoehme and Emil Schumacher, who both explored the nature of landscapes, as well as the Spaniards Antoni Tapiès, Antonio Saura and Rafael Conogar, who also used colour and the energetic, sometimes aggressive application of paint for political purposes.
Sebastian Heiner invents his own pictorial language based on all those forms of abstract painting, in which he exclusively explores dynamic action processes through colours. His approach is as concentrated as it is stringent. He often formulates a resonance space with a basic tone on the canvas, on which the colour chords unfold. They are in tune with the emotional colour character of each composition, in which individual tones usually dominate. It is true that his compositions literally appear to be executed in a single stroke – quickly and without deliberately applying each individual brushstroke. And so, one could almost assume that they are hardly created in a controlled manner, but rather as if in a wild frenzy of colours, which are violently applied and immediately blended into one another or splashed across the surface. There is no pause for breath, no pause for thought, everything appears to be in a constant maelstrom of suction and centrifugal forces. The uncontrolled appearance is deceptive, however, because the respective colour chord that permeates the compositions makes it clear that the works are created in a very reflective manner. It is the artist’s emotionality that he translates into colours and discharges in explosive energy. It almost seems as if the rhythm of the metropolises in which he lives is echoed in the staccato of the colours, merging experience and emotion. Almost imperceptibly, incised drawings teem in the impasto mass of paint and seem like personal notations in an otherwise purely abstract colour space. They cheekily and comically heighten the subjective once again and – as “Monk” and “Servant” – presumably characterize the artist’s alter ego with a wink.
Beate Reifenscheid
Director, Ludwig Museum Koblenz
2024
Sebastian Heiner, born in Berlin, Germany, is a contemporary artist whose abstract action painting style is infused with the raw energy of his life’s journey through the cities of Berlin, Bangkok, Beijing, and Shanghai.
The first time I encountered Sebastian’s painting was in Germany, and I was immediately captivated by its vibrant colors and bold, expressive brushstrokes. It felt like the piece had a pulse of its own. The impact was so powerful that I knew I had to bring it into my home in Suzhou, China. Paintings, in their quiet way, often stir something deep within us, evoking emotions that are hard to put into words. Now, every morning, as I wake up and see that painting, it fills me with a surge of energy, setting a bright tone for my day. I was so inspired that we decided to acquire two more of Sebastian’s works for the company—one in a striking 2-meter round shape and another impressive piece, 2×4 meters in size. I hope my colleagues feel the same spark of inspiration when they walk into the office, energized by the beauty and vitality these stunning artworks radiate.
Sebastian’s work, characterized by its physicality and dynamism, serves as both a performance and a visual record of his intense creative process. Over the years, Sebastian’s art has evolved into a powerful fusion of Eastern and Western influences, particularly following his time in China’s two most iconic cities—Beijing and Shanghai—which left profound imprints on his approach to painting.
Sebastian’s early years in Berlin shaped his passionated, action-based technique, where the act of painting became a performance. His large canvases, often placed on large walls, became arenas for his expressive gestures. Working with sweeping motions, using his hands, arms and even unconventional tools like brooms or fly swaps, Sebastian’s process echoed the physical intensity of Abstract Expressionism. In Berlin’s post-war environment, this method allowed him to externalize the chaotic energy surrounding him, with each painting capturing his raw emotional and physical impulses.
Bangkok’s vibrant chaos intensified Sebastian’s already dynamic style, introducing new elements of color and rhythm into his work. The city’s sensory overload translated into canvases full of explosive energy. However, it was in Beijing, where he spent significant time before moving to Shanghai, that Sebastian underwent a crucial transformation. In this historical and culturally rich city, Sebastian engaged deeply with the interplay of ancient traditions and rapid modernization, inspiring him to delve into themes of cultural identity and transformation. The contrasting textures and forms in his Beijing-inspired works reflect the city’s complexity, where traditional influences meld with the relentless drive of contemporary life. Sebastian’s brushstrokes became infused with the spirit of the city—dynamic yet grounded, chaotic yet purposeful, embodying the struggles and aspirations of a society in flux.
Moving to Shanghai, the “Moloch City,” Sebastian’s work took on a new structural intensity. The city’s constant motion—the rapid urbanization, the towering skyline, and its rich cultural history—brought forth a more controlled approach to abstraction. The fluidity of movement in his brushstrokes emerged as he experimented with more deliberate, sweeping gestures. His figures, often struggling to emerge from the abstract chaos, reflect both the alienation and vitality Sebastain felt in this colossal, ever-shifting metropolis. These fragmented human forms, dissolving into and emerging from swirling movements, evoke the tension between human presence and the overwhelming forces of the urban landscape.
Sebastian’s integration of figuration within abstraction has become a defining characteristic of his later work. Shadowy figures flicker in his canvases, suspended in a state of flux. Often appearing fragmented or incomplete, they reflect the transient, disorienting nature of life in both Beijing and Shanghai—a place where identity is continuously reshaped by modernity’s forces.
In Sebastian’s art, the convergence of East and West is not merely thematic but a visual and physical reality. His canvases record intense physical engagement, blending the expressive freedom of action painting with the philosophical depth of Eastern aesthetics. Each painting serves as both a performance and a meditation on the tension between chaos and control, abstraction and form. Shaped by his experiences in Berlin, Bangkok, Beijing, and Shanghai, Sebastian’s works testify to the artist’s relentless exploration of the human condition through the language of powerful abstract painting.
Sven O. Ammer
Suzhou 2024
“All things are there to become images for us in some sense”. Rainer Maria Rilke
“Become who you are” Friedrich Nietzsche in Ecco Homo
“My pictorial motifs develop from an immediate, spontaneous and free approach, a performative procedure without any direct guidelines, from my intuition, guided by inspiration, a form of pictorial invention that develops the moment I start working, occupying my thoughts and memories, seeking expression. I work additively, element by element. I feel my way forward, from darkness into light, from chaos into order, trying to find a balance between colours and forms, from an indeterminate state to a composition. The viewer can read the painting directly, be stimulated, can also be guided by their own interpretation in order to rediscover it time and time again: What do I see? My paintings arise from an original motivation to pursue the mystery of creation, to understand how something previously not visible comes into being, to find an indeterminate state, a rational expression, to counter the random with a form, to give it a name and find an explanation. Painting is my medium, my language, to gain insights that surprise me and enable me to see the world in a new way. I dare to look inwards in order to go out into the world, always asking myself anew: who am I, where am I going, I seek to define my position in an unceasing process of development.
I am currently living and working in China.”
Sebastian Heiner
Suzhou, October 2024
My dear guests, I am grateful for the opportunity to talk about my paintings, as I wish to express myself through this medium. I want my artwork to speak for itself. At its core, my paintings are about finding a beginning—seeking a starting point! The unconditional will to begin triggers movement. The dance begins! It takes courage to simply start.
When I stand in front of a blank canvas, I often find myself questioning: Who am I in this moment? I pull together all my memories, yet I strive to maintain an empty mind—to exist solely in the present. I remind myself to begin without fear; this is an essential experience.
In this space, I find myself suspended in time, momentarily alone. Then, I burst forth! My emotions can swing from rage to wild joy, and all my feelings may flood over me! At that point, my brain intervenes. The inner critic tells me: Stay focused! Calmly follow your path! Be your own friend! Move forward step by step! Find balance!
I come to recognize that I only break boundaries within my own framework, and that framework is vast. The small is also the large! Yet, this doesn’t matter—just keep painting! Don’t overthink! Be quiet! Merge with your actions!
And then, for a moment, I see him! He runs past me, laughing! I notice his bright, wide eyes and his big smile. I step back, wondering: Who are you? Where do you come from? All I hear is his laughter, which shifts into a mischievous grin! It’s him: the joker! Yes, there he is! Why not catch him? He’s just a bit crazy, that’s all! He reveals the wild power within us: the immense joy! Sometimes he behaves like a child, laughing and running away!
We should try to catch the joker, but he cannot be captured! This pure, natural joy cannot be forced; it’s a gift. There are many stories about this fool who sometimes holds up a mirror to us. While people can act like wild animals, animals themselves are innocent. Humans, however, can bear guilt. Let’s dance and be thankful for our minds and rationality!
All these thoughts continuously engage my mind. I find it fascinating to ponder the nature of humanity: Who are we? Where are we going? What do we truly want?
I hope you enjoy this exhibition, which offers a glimpse into my experience as a human being and my journey of painting without overthinking. Thank you very much for your attention!
Sebastian Heiner
Suzhou 2024
“Every man must invent his own way”.
Jean-Paul Sartre, The Flies.
I am currently living and working in an old office building that is part of a factory site.
Sometimes I hear banging on metal or lorries driving along a sandy road before loudly unloading their cargo.
Street vendors approach on small vehicles playing the same tune over and over again – their monotone pronouncements playing on loudspeakers.
When dusk falls and after it has rained, frogs belch out in the fallow fields deep into the night. At my window, I sometimes watch dragonflies forming swarms and drifting on the wind. Or I see birds of prey circling in search of victims, while small birds chirp on my terrace.
A howling wind often sweeps across the wasteland. The wind can suddenly turn into a storm and violently shake the thin window panes.
In summer, the sun beats down mercilessly.
My body uses all its energy to cool down. The air conditioning works most effectively in the living area – a machine tirelessly blowing cool air evenly into the small room.
I walk along a long corridor that connects the living area and workroom, across a stone floor decorated with colourful ornaments. I open a heavy brown door to my studio, walk past an old brown conference table and reach my workstation.
The tiled floor is lined with cardboard.
Everywhere is littered with the tools of my trade – scraps of discarded paper, old squeezed-out paint tubes and their boxes, pink fly swatters – all awaiting their use for my next canvas.
My workspace looks chaotic because I work quickly, often explosively, in one go – the floor quickly turns into a battlefield!
A naked canvas hangs on the wall.
When I look into the main hall from the work area, I notice the chandeliers. They hang from a ceiling made up of rectangular, deep-set mouldings.
The shiny, polished, milk-coloured stone floor contributes to the special, almost neo-baroque atmosphere.
The heavy, dark curtains with their many cords and beads have been taken down in the hall, but provide adequate protection from the sun in the two living rooms or help keep out the cold in winter.
Two small rows of black office chairs are set up in the hall for guests and can be extended at any time for spectators. The many windows provide a wonderful amount of light.
A kind of conservatory adjoins the hall and is separated by two large sliding doors.
The conservatory is fitted with dark wooden floorboards. Two fabric panels hang above the glass roof. Almost all the walls are made of glass. In summer, I can hardly enter the small adjoining room because it retains so much heat, but a beautiful room for autumn.
When I open the second double door, I reach a large, grey-coloured concrete roof terrace and look over the narrow railing to see many residential towers and factories in the distance.
When the burning sun rises in the morning, it often bathes the industrial area in unforgettable light.
The rising sun bathes the clouds on the horizon in orange-red and glowing yellow colours – as if it ignites a fire in the sky!
I love the dalliances of the large cloud formations or the different shapes of the clouds, bathed in different light at different times of day. They weave across the vast industrial area or dissolve into the vast sky.
The lift rings. People visit me only rarely, although I am conscious that the other floors of the office block are populated.
I experience my seclusion as an opportunity to fully follow my thoughts and dreams, which is why I call my place of residence: “The spaceship!”
My studio seems to float above the site and is so close to the sky.
Sometimes my imagination transforms cream-coloured chandeliers into old insects that curl their 5 legs up to the ceiling. Sometimes their little glass balls clink and move delicately in the breeze, resembling alien beings from another time. When it gets dark and I switch on the light, their feet, shaped like suction cups or strange calyxes, glow, emitting a warm light into the shadowy spaces of the night.
I left my native city of Berlin a few months ago to work for my exhibition in Suzhou.
Overnight my thoughts, ideas and memories whirl vividly in my dreams. As soon as they subside in the morning, I get to work.
I try to achieve a concentrated, focussed state. I approach my painting as a kind of performance or dance. I just start, instinctively, without thinking too much.
Sometimes it takes the form of a rage, an artificially created rage at nothing, but that touches my existence, an unconditioned will aimed at giving expression to something deep inside myself.
A synthesis of memories and new impressions.
When my judgement dries up, if the painting or drawing fails to surprise me, I start again and continue working until I have found a better solution. I try to extend and deepen my ideas or tell a story, be it abstract, expressionistically painted or populated by fantastic figures.
Colours swirl into each other, overlap, form paths or fly through the air like thunder, echoing in a distant hue.
Golden flashes leave trails in a sea of colour, waves crash into each other.
Wizards, warriors or sleeping monks, laughing hunchbacked creatures.
Animal-type people stroke dogs with glowing eyes.
Man-beasts sport huge antlers or are overgrown with strange plants.
Humans are frozen to ice or tremble with energy.
Hat formations grow over heads and appear like signposts.
A strange sky glows on the horizon.
Are heroes playing with the big cats whose eyes blaze like flames?
Who is spending the night in a red farmhouse to be greeted by invisible animals?
We don’t need to be afraid, images give us courage, inspire us to act with self-confidence, to reinvent ourselves so that we can stay alert and realise what we imagine with a sense of joy.
Sebastian Heiner
Suzhou, October 2024
„Jeder Mensch muss seinen Weg erfinden“.
Jean-Paul Sartre in Die Fliegen.
Zur Zeit lebe und arbeite ich in einem alten Bürogebäude, das auf einem zu einem Fabrikgelände liegt.
Manchmal höre ich Schläge auf Metall oder Lastwagen fahren auf einer sandigen Straße und entladen laut ihrer Fracht.
Straßenhändler kommen auf kleinen Fahrzeugen herangefahren und spielen eine immer gleiche Melodie. Ihre monotonen Ansagen werden auf Lautsprechern abgespielt.
Wenn die Dämmerung beginnt und es geregnet hat, schreien Frösche auf den brachliegenden Feldern bis tief in die Nacht hinein. An meinem Fenster beobachte ich manchmal Libellen, die Schwärme bilden und sich vom Wind treiben lassen. Oder ich sehe Raubvögel kreisen auf der Suche nach ihrer Beute, während kleine Vögel auf meiner Terrasse zwitschern.
Oft fegt ein heulender Wind über die Einöde. Der Wind kann sich plötzlich in einen Sturm verwandelt und rüttelt heftig an den dünnen Fensterscheiben.
Im Sommer brennt eine erbarmungslose Sonne.
Mein Körper muss seine ganze Kraft aufwenden, um abzukühlen. Die Klimaanlage arbeitet am effektivsten im Wohnbereich. Eine niemals müde werdende Maschine bläst gleichmäßig kühle Luft in den kleinen Raum hinein.
Über einen langen Flur, der Wohnbereich und Arbeitsraum verbindet, laufe ich über einem mit farbigen Ornamenten geschmückten Steinfußboden und öffne eine schwere, braune Tür zu meinem Studio und gehe an einem alten, braunen Konferenztisch vorbei, dann erreiche meinen Arbeitsplatz.
Der gekachelte Fußboden ist mit Pappe ausgelegt.
Überall liegen weggeworfenen Papierreste, alte, ausgequetschte Farbtuben oder deren Schachteln herum und rosafarbene Fliegenklatschen, um sie für die Arbeit auf der Leinwand zu verwenden.
Mein Arbeitsplatz sieht chaotisch aus, denn ich arbeite schnell, oft explosiv, in einem Durchgang, so verwandelt sich der Boden schnell in ein Schlachtfeld!
Ein leeres Bild hängt an der Wand.
Schaue ich von dem Arbeitsfeld in den Saal hinein, fallen mir den Kronleuchter auf. Sie hängen von einer Decke herab, die aus rechteckigen, tiefliegenden Fassetten besteht.
Auch der glänzende, polierte, milchfarbige Steinfußboden trägt zu einer besonderen, fast neo-barocken Atmosphäre bei.
Die schweren, dunklen Vorhänge mit ihren vielen Kordeln und Perlen, wurden in dem Saal abgehängt, sind aber in den zwei Wohnräumen ein guter Sonnenschutz oder helfen im Winter gegen die Kälte.
Zwei kleine Reihen schwarzer Bürostühle sind im Saal für Gäste aufgebaut und können jederzeit für Zuschauer erweitert werden. Die vielen Fenster sorgen für einen wunderbaren Lichteinfall.
Eine Art von Wintergarten schließt sich dem Saal an und ist durch zwei grosse Schiebetüren getrennt.
Der Wintergarten ist mit dunklen Holzdielen ausgestattet. Über dem Glasdach sind zwei Stoffbahnen gehängt. Fast alle Wände sind aus Glas. Im Sommer kann ich den kleinen Nebenraum kaum betreten, weil er die gewaltige Hitze so sehr speichert. Ein schöner Raum für den Herbst.
Öffne ich die zweite Doppeltür gelange ich auf eine große, graufarbige Dachterrasse aus Beton und schaue ich über das schmale Geländer hinweg, sehe ich in der Ferne viele Wohntürme und Fabrikanlagen.
Wenn die brennende Sonne am Morgen zum Himmel emporsteigt, taucht sie das Industriegebiet oft in unvergessliche Szenarien.
Die aufgehende Sonne taucht Wolken am Horizont in orange-rote, gelb leuchtende Farben. Es scheint, als ob sie ein Feuer am Himmel entzündet!
Ich liebe diese Aufführungen der große Wolkenformationen oder die verschiedenartigen Gestalten der Wolken, jeden Tag, zu den unterschiedlichen Tageszeiten in ein anderes Licht getaucht. Über das weitläufige Industriegebiet ziehen sie fort oder lösen sich in dem weiten Himmel von selbst auf.
Der Fahrstuhl läutet. Nur sehr selten besuchen mich Menschen. In den anderen Etagen des Bürohauses wird gearbeitet.
Ich erlebe meine Abgeschiedenheit als eine Möglichkeit, ganz meinen Gedanken und Träumen zu folgen und ich nenne meinen Wohnort deshalb: „Das Raumschiff“.
Mein Studio scheint über dem Gelände zu schweben und ist dem Himmel so nahe.
Manchmal verwandelt meine Fantasie cremefarbene Kronleuchter in alte Insekten, die ihre 5 Beine zur Decke hinauf krümmen. Manchmal klirren ihre kleinen Glaskugeln und bewegen sich zart im Luftzug.
Diese stillen Lebewesen erscheinen mir wie fremde Lebewesen aus einer anderen Zeit. Ist es dunkel geworden und ich schalte das Licht an, leuchten ihre Füße, die wie Saugnäpfe oder seltsame Blütenkelche geformt sind. Sie senden ein warmes Licht in die schattigen Räume der dunklen Nacht.
Meine Geburtsstadt Berlin habe ich vor einigen Monaten verlassen, um für meine Ausstellung in Suzhou zu arbeiten.
Sobald sich am Morgen meine Gedanken, Ideen und Erinnerungen sortiert haben, die der Nacht in meinen Träumen so lebendig kreisen, gehe ich an meine Arbeit.
Ich versuche einen konzentrierten, fokussierten Zustand zu erreichen. Meine Malerei will ich als eine Art von Performance betrachten oder als einen Tanz. Ich fange einfach an, instinktiv, ohne viel zu denken.
Manchmal ist es auch eine Wut, eine künstlich erzeugte Wut, auf eigentlich nichts, als dass es meine Existenz berührt, ein unbedingter Wille, eine Suche in der Welt, einen klaren Ausdruck zu finden, für etwas, das ich tief in mir Selbst entdecke.
Eine Synthese aus Erinnerungen und neuen Eindrücken.
Wenn mein Urteil ernüchternd ausfällt, das Bild oder die Zeichnung mich nicht überraschen können, beginne ich erneut, arbeite weiter, bis ich eine bessere Lösung gefunden habe. Ich versuche meine Ideen zu vertiefen oder eine Geschichte zu erzählen, sei sie abstrakt, expressionistisch gemalt oder von fantastischen Figuren bevölkert.
Farben wirbeln ineinander, überlagern sich, bilden Bahnen oder fliegen durch die Luft, wie Donner, hallen Farbtöne in einem fernen Echo.
Goldene Blitze ziehen Spuren in einem Meer aus Farben, Wellen stürzen ineinander.
Zauberer, Krieger oder schlafende Mönche, bucklige Geschöpfe lachen.
Tiermenschen streicheln Hunde mit glühenden Augen.
Tiermenschen tragen schwere Geweihe oder sind von seltsamen Pflanzen überwuchert.
Menschen sind zu Eis erstarrt oder zittern vor Energie.
Hutformationen wachsen über Köpfe hinaus und erscheinen wie Wegweiser.
Ein fremder Himmel leuchtet am Horizont.
Spielen Helden mit großen Katzen, deren Augen wie Flammen lodern?
Wer übernachtet in einem roten Bauernhaus und wird von unsichtbaren Tieren begrüßt?
Wir brauchen keine Angst zu haben, Bilder geben uns Mut, regen uns an, selbstbewusst zu handeln, uns neu zu erfinden, damit wir lebendig bleiben, mit Freude das tun, was wir uns vorstellen.
Sebastian Heiner
Suzhou, Oktober 2024