A whisper, soft and insistent, talks to me, burying into my sub-conscious, my thought processes are confused, I see an unknown space in the sky, a narrow strip of light, I am flying in a dream, clouds float, driven by the wind, white mountains tower higher and higher.
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I fly in a self-drive taxi in a night lit up by beams of light. I am entranced by all these wonderfully glowing colours. I laugh and then weep with laughter and smile.
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In May 2017, Sebastian Heiner and Michael Wruck launched the Moloch City project in Shanghai. The newly opened Studio Shanghai in the North Bund Art Zone was the starting point for the artistic and media documentation of the work of Sebastian Heiner.
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My nerves flicker with lightning flashes and thunderbolts, tossed here and there, trembling, fires of emotion burning inside, a sun rises.
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Smells pour out from everywhere, crawling out … from the green carpeting, I stop suddenly … vapours climb … I see gauze curtains, yellow curtains, old, faded ornaments, soaked, a sour smell …
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The sun is hidden in dense clouds. Damp air settles on the city streets, softening all contours. In a diffuse state of mind, I find myself in a sort of cognitive twilight.
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A canvas stands ready and primed in the studio. How can I convey my ideas and feelings? How can I overcome this silence? An empty canvas is dangerous.
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A word comes to mind, a sentence emerges, entire sentences coagulate, this process of expressing oneself is buried deep, I want to free myself. The spoken word lies lurking, still unclear, hidden in a cave, waiting until the gloom lifts to show itself, but even so what I want to describe remains a dark shadow.
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When artists travel, they take their special view of the world along in their baggage. The painter Sebastian Heiner has traversed the globe a number of times with trips to Israel, Jordan and the Caucasus. On a number of occasions, he was able to combine his travels with prolonged work orientated stays in cities such as Bangkok, Beijing and Shanghai.
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Shanghai, summer of 2017. The sun burns down unrelentingly on the colony of houses around North Bund during Shanghai’s hottest summer for 150 years. Shimmering masses of air, yellowed by smog, beat mercilessly into our faces while around us traffic teems noisily, like ants in an anthill.
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