All in Interview
If I am interested in a personality and fascinated by the story, I try to clarify this in my artworks. I don't want to create a mere, simplistic depiction, but rather try to give space to the seemingly ambivalent aspects in my portrayals. What is typical of the myth surrounding this person, and which perhaps tragic aspects are revealed? In this respect, I hope that I succeed in giving the viewer the necessary space to develop their own understanding of this person.
I view the pursuit of beauty as a profound ethical responsibility—a radical act of restoration. In a world often characterized by fragmentation, my work seeks to return to a state of wholeness. Beauty is not mere decoration; it is a manifestation of “善” (Goodness) that provides a sanctuary for the human soul to heal and reconnect with its essential nature.
For me, the journey itself is not just a physical or geographical one, but a deeply personal and introspective process. As a visual storyteller, I find that the places I travel to often become imbued with a sense of emotional resonance, which can either coalesce into a single, defining image or unfold into a more complex, narrative-driven series.
In art, as in many other processes, I see a certain cyclical movement. At one point, figurative painting was declared exhausted, and other forms — abstraction, dematerialization, conceptual strategies — took its place. Today, the pendulum is clearly swinging back, and it is already possible to ask the reverse question: what can abstract painting or the refusal of representation do now, that it has not already done?
My training in color theory plays a vital role in this dynamic process. The principles of color relationships, contrast, and harmony are ingrained in me, acting as an internal compass that guides my instincts when making quick decisions on the canvas. For example, when faced with the urge to apply vibrant, clashing colors in the heat of creation, I instinctively recall the impact of complementary colors and how they can heighten emotional responses. This knowledge allows me to make choices that feel both spontaneous and harmonious.
My practice is based on the premise that photography does not end at the final curtain, but rather begins there. By using post-production tools such as a palette and brush, I shift the focus from photographic representation to artistic creation.
In her 2026 fine art series, Karine transcends the traditional boundaries of design, merging twenty years of high-jewelry expertise with the infinite possibilities of artificial intelligence. By reimagining the human form as a luminescent translucent vessel—where moss breathes through glass skin and internal storms are harnessed within one's soul—she has pioneered a new genre: Digital Haute Couture.
I experienced the computer less as a tool and more as an environment—one that behaved, responded, and occasionally resisted. It did not simply execute my intentions; it altered them. Meaning emerged through dialogue, iteration, and unpredictability, offering a way of knowing that could not be accessed through analog methods.
I am a Hungarian painter dedicated to creating unique, personalized artworks that transform spaces and evoke deep emotions. My artistic journey began with decorative wall painting, which gradually led me to the canvas, where I found my true passion. Each painting I create is not just a visual piece but a deeply personal expression—an artwork that tells a story, recalls memories, and becomes a meaningful part of its owner’s life.
The purpose of my work is to transmit cosmic knowledge through color and visual beauty. Cosmic knowledge sought me to carry out this creative work. I have only let myself go. The evolution of technology is intimately related to my creative process. And technology is connected to cosmic beings. So there is a transmission of cosmic beings to the viewers of my photographic work. In reality, it is my duty as an artist to generate this transmission of data and emotions. And thus evolve.
My art is a dialogue between psychology and painting — a space where inner conflicts, fears, and existential questions take visual form. Drawing on psychoanalysis and Gestalt therapy, I explore identity, time, and the fragile boundary between illusion and reality. Each work reflects an emotional experience — despair, anxiety, temptation, or the search for self — embodied through vivid contrasts of light, shadow, and symbolic imagery. My goal is to reveal what is usually hidden and to give voice to the invisible and unspoken aspects of human existence.
I see my work as a parallel system of coded information. The flowers, the forms, the textures—they are not just images but systems of meaning, built through labor, through repetition, through the body’s engagement with the canvas. They are a kind of financial metaphor: not in numbers, but in the way they accumulate, resist, and hold value in a different form.
When the creative moment arises, the process unfolds freely, instinctively, and without preconceived planning. The assembly happens spontaneously, guided by an inner rhythm made of gestures, pressures, and resonances. Structure is not imposed; it emerges naturally, like a score taking shape directly within the material—through the same approach with which I have always composed my musical pieces or written the lyrics of songs and poems.
Stefan Fransson is a Swedish contemporary artist who blends digital collage, sculpture, and organic forms to create layered images. He combines soft tones with sharp contrasts, adding transparency and depth to each composition. His art often features geometric fragments and natural textures that form complex visual structures—through which he explores space, memory, and perception.
While painting the gold, I enjoy it's beauty and the technique I use. I experiment with different colors, in the gold or silver and in the shadows, because the standards are never set. This is the technical part on which I focus, compartmentalized is the connotation of sadness and melancholy. It is an intuitive process rather than something planned or thought out, and it changes as the painting progresses. The figures surely feel protected, but in a certain way are exposed at the same time because you can't help but wondering what lies underneath, which is the relationship between surface and depth.
I conceive of roses and cranes as living entities endowed with mind and emotion. This perception arises from an inner, multidimensional worldview that is liberated from physical and temporal constraints, within which such beings reveal themselves in this form. What appears there is not the object itself, but the manifestation of mind and emotion; at times, the universal ideals of truth, goodness, and beauty—which each being may inherently possess—are reflected with clarity and dignity within the rose.
Christy Chor is a Canadian ceramic artist who creates a body of narrative-driven sculptural work exploring the sensory dialogue between humanity and the natural world. Her master theme, BACK TO NATURE, unfolds through successive series including Bird, Bear, and her current Mountain works, serving as tactile meditations on wonder, imbalance, and rebirth. An internationally recognized and award-winning artist, Christy's practice merges cross-cultural perspectives, uniting her ceramics education from Sheridan College in Canada with professional experience in Asia's design industry. Through this unique lens, she creates sculptures that are both communicative and masterfully composed.
I am interested in the tension between escapism and the weight of the real because I don’t think we ever fully move from one to the other. Screens offer us moments of escape, projection, and imagination, but they are also where anxiety, comparison, loneliness, and desire accumulate. What looks like lightness or play often carries a quiet heaviness underneath. In that sense, fantasy and the ordinary are not opposites in my work—they coexist and constantly bleed into each other.
I am guided almost entirely by intuition, an inner voice that speaks through the process. When something is missing, the painting carries a sense of visual emptiness; it has not yet found its soul. The moment of equilibrium arrives when that inner voice becomes clear. A sense of fullness rather than excess. That is when I know the painting has reached its emotional balance, and that nothing more needs to be added or taken away.
Michel Testard is a contemporary painter whose work is shaped by long-term travel and lived experience across Asia, India, Europe and the polar regions. Born in Japan and raised between continents, he has developed a practice rooted in travel, cultural immersion and sustained encounters with distant places. His paintings explore landscapes, interiors and human figures as emotional spaces rather than documentary subjects, blending observation, memory and imagination.
