Q: Collage is such a unique medium with endless possibilities. What drew you to this art form, and how did you develop your collage-making techniques?

A: In my work, I mostly try to unearth hidden stories that have invaded my head for years. Growing up as an visually impaired child with autism and ADHD, many activities involving imagination were either unavailable to me. That is how I first started with collage as a 5 year old child, but these efforts weren’t exactly nurtured in my household. As a teenager I had many good art teachers. These people taught me about the basics of what art really is. Yet nothing ever felt right. I was told I was talented, I entered many competitions with good results, but only when I went back to the idea of assemblage, was I finally able to express myself properly.

I think on a basic level, everything already is, was and will be; everything we saw, read, watched and experienced for ourselves is a continuum of a reassembled culture—an endless transmission. Discovering collage as a medium that works the exact same way opened my mind to new possibilities and took away the anxiety of functioning in a set of rules that just never felt real to me. Collage, especially analogue, is my source of comfort and anchors me to my reality. My own technique was born out of a refusal to comply with the norms of what I was taught art was supposed to be.

Q: Your work involves using abandoned or given-away materials. How do you source these materials, and what role does their previous life or history play in your creative process?

A: All my life I struggled with hoarding paper materials. Growing old, the idea of collecting came from difficult financial situation my family experienced. When you struggle like that, art becomes redundant, you almost feel guilty thinking about it. It became logical to me to turn every available material around me into something new. This is how I discovered using found imagery as a way to materialise things no one understood about me. Analogue collage does not discriminate. It is a technique free of boundaries like money or status.

For the last seventeen months I’ve been turning my own possessions and my partner’s family collections into art. Many people from his family left behind belongings that tell a story. Those that qualify as real family heirlooms are still collected. Everything else, like old magazines, schoolbooks and calendars are turned into collages. Three generations of teachers, doctors and artists left us with the responsibility to give these possessions a new meaning. I also met many people, including some of my fans online, who actively support my work by supplying me with more materials, often carrying past history.

Q: Your artist statement mentions 'retranslating visual representations of culture.' Could you explain what this means and how your work seeks to create new meanings from existing imagery?

A: Retranslation is a key word when thinking about collage. My mind is filled with stories from books and movies I’ve been relentlessly absorbing when the world around me failed to sustain me.

Obviously every artist applies their knowledge and craft into their work. My wish is to also apply the memory of things touched, literally and figuratively, by people long gone. The culture of our families, the pop culture influencing our thinking and our language, the hidden culture of every person and place that has shaped us – those things stay embedded, but can also be retranslated again and again. That is what my work will always be about.

Q: Do you approach your collages with a specific concept or story in mind, or do you let the materials guide the narrative as you work?

A: I do not print anything unless its absolutely necessary, so that I could stay true to the idea of reassembling without creating more waste. I feel like starting with a prompt in mind often adds to my anxiety and blocks me from working. There are moments when sudden inspiration strikes through a visual association with things I saw in the past; all the exceptional movies, books, art and places I ever saw live in my head rent-free.

Sometimes it feels like the right parts of pre-cut pieces just speak to me in a language that no one can. My mind always worked like a radio station, a constant wave of sound, vision and other representations of my experiences mixed together—many layers, going through me in unison. I experience my childhood fears triggered by an image in a book. I remember a beautiful person in full detail because of music in a film. Memory brings back sensations and even tastes that should be long forgotten. Material is my friend, it guides me through all the things I’ve experienced but was unable to process before. Every moment like this makes me a better person, regardless of the work itself ever being discovered by anybody else.

Q: If someone wanted to start creating hand-cut collages, what advice would you give them about getting started and finding their unique voice in this medium?

A: I would say the only thing that matters is to try it for yourself. It is a technique that gives you the beautiful freedom of choice. Anything possible can be done. I’ve seen artists who reassemble pictures to catch the eye of the recipient. I’ve seen ones that create whole new forms on paper from recycled food packaging. On a basic level, everything around us is collage and everything people need to say out loud can be translated into that. Capturing it for others might be your way to leave your own message to the world. Even if the only message is to continue the transmission.

Q: Collage often involves juxtaposing different elements to create something new. How do you decide which images to combine? What themes or stories do you aim to convey through your collages?

A: I established four distinctive ways of how assembling works for me. First is a simple placing of one object on an unrelated picture. It is the kind of assemblage that either works or not, very intuitive and childlike. Collages, like Memories of Green, for example, simply work as they occur. Making those feel primitive and free, something I rarely achieve. Then, of course, comes compiling unrelated objects into one image, and creating backgrounds that give the impression of depth.

Apart from that, I compose new objects, breaking form and reassembling it back in a completely different way. I’ve also made a series of portraits where the general image of a woman’s face is reinterpreted by cutting out spaces of the face. Then gaps are filled with photographs of textures, fabrics and plants. I love to use this method on nude photography, where various shots of uncovered skin can be swapped this way.