I kept hearing friends talk about the differences between the art scenes in Berlin and Paris, so I visited a few times, met some artist friends, and also stayed in Berlin.

Engaging, questioning, living

In sculpture, I tend to approach the work by considering the materials and their historical context, while in painting, I focus more on the perspective and language of the image.

Of course, I have been reflecting on this question especially after moving to France, because French and Mandarin are vastly different languages. I see painting and sculpture as separate languages, and this has made me think about how to communicate the meaning of my work through the artwork itself, so that people don’t need a specific cultural background to understand it. This has been the language I’ve been trying to refine in my creations this year.

I make time to visit Berlin every year. It seems to have more underground spaces and a strong influence from underground culture, which gives experimental artists greater room to survive and create. In contrast, Paris offers fewer such spaces. I believe this is closely tied to the art ecosystem and economic factors. Although Paris has become more international in recent years, the rising rent makes it increasingly difficult for many artists to sustain themselves—especially those in the experimental phase, who need more space and resources to take risks and make mistakes.

Victor Auberjonois first reached out to me on Instagram with an invitation to exhibit, and after some discussions between him and my representing gallery, Nicodim, we began exploring the uniqueness of both the space and the project. I’ve always been drawn to historically charged or atypcal spaces—they inspire me deeply. I believe that artworks dialogue with different meanings depending on the space they inhabit, and I’m constantly seeking new contexts and interpretations, which often lead to fresh insights and reflections in my practice.

This sculpture further explores the transformation of the relationship between humans and nature through metaphor. The horse stall, once a space of labor and close interaction between humans and animals, is now reimagined as a hollow shell — symbolizing disciplined nature, the erased body, and the alienation brought by industrialization. By reinterpreting this structure, the work turns a once-living space into a symbol of control, loss, and historical rupture.

The coal-covered floor and rusted walls are not only material choices but also symbolic expressions — they carry the traces of time, the corrosion of power, and the slow collapse of traditional structures under modernization. Through the use of discarded, repurposed materials, the artist transforms forgotten remnants into metaphors of memory, history, and political inquiry into existence.

In essence, SPINE BOUNDARY does not convey political messages directly, but through its use of material, metaphor, and spatial reconstruction, it raises profound questions about domestication, control, forgetting, and disappearance.

I never want to impose how I think people should feel. What I find more interesting is listening to what they tell me they feel.

Yes, I would consider the size and safety of the artwork since it’s in a public space. Other than that, I feel quite very free to create.

Of course, I noticed these elements and felt excited because they add more layers of interpretation and complexity to the work. They also allowed me to step away from painting practice and think about other issues. Last year, I worked with ceramics, a different material, and this year, in this sculpture, I used animal skin, which is also related to the body. This gave me a new understanding of bodily perception and is part of my exploration of the relationship between materials and perception in my creative process.

I hope to see many works that explore different aspects of humanity. Human nature is complex and ever-changing, which is probably why we are always fascinated by it. But I believe the simplest reason is that a good artwork is one that moves people.

K8 Hardy: I would say it’s dissonant and irreverent, placing fashion within a broader political and economic context.

Well, the concept started with the dress, which was inspired by the house dress. I was thinking about a vehicle for making art – and I wanted to bring the dress to Berlin. People often do that through a runway show or a presentation.

Because it involves a car, and there’s so much American context tied to that space. There are so many crazy things happening right now that I felt, if we bring all these elements together, it might reframe them – or at least get us to think differently. I liked the centrality of the location, but also the idea of owning the Americanness of this project.

The idea is to create my own house dress and to examine women’s workwear. Men’s workwear has been analyzed to death, but women’s hasn’t – and I think it’s such an interesting area of clothing. Grandmothers all over the world wear it, but it’s usually made at home, so there’s no industrial production history to refer to. Still, the form remains surprisingly consistent, and that’s what fascinates me.

It means style, and it means having a conversation with the public.

Paz de la Huerta: I come from Spanish aristocracy, and my own family sex trafficked me — also to Harvey Weinstein. I went public with my story, but members of the aristocracy are forbidden from speaking to the press. As punishment, they tried to kill me. Once, they had me hit by a truck, which left me with a near-fatal brain injury. Just three years ago, my father — who also abused me sexually — beat me almost to death. I still receive death threats to this day.

For a long time, I nearly destroyed myself with drugs. But three years ago, I took a plant medicine that repaired my brain. I was able to piece together my past and truly understand who was trying to kill me and why. I took some money and left Spain. Now I live in hiding with high security.

Yeah. I have reason to believe that my family offered people money to find and hurt me. And now people are wondering: Where’s Paz? What happened to her career?

Every time I survived an attack, I had a spiritual experience. When you’re close to death, your brain releases DMT. That changed something in me — it made me want to live instead of die. So yeah, it’s a really crazy story. There are even films based on my life, like Leos Carax’s Annette. The kind of trauma I went through is beyond words. I was the sacrifice. They wanted to sacrifice me.

I’m also a victim of satanic rituals. In those, it’s always the most innocent — animals, small children — who become the prey. Now, in my hiding place, I live with all these animals, they’re all white, including dogs I’ve rescued. I call the swan that appears in many of my paintings my wounded angel. And I like the matryoshka doll as a symbol – it keeps taking on a new life, again and again.

Yeah. My family put me in psychiatric hospitals many times. When they couldn’t kill me, they tried to make me seem crazy and lock me away in one of those places for the rest of my life. No one, not even people who are truly crazy, should be in places like that. But I’m an artist. Even if you locked me up, I wouldn’t stop creating. I’d just keep painting my crying angels.

It was there even before acting. As a child, I painted these books called “The American Mansions.” I was never safe, I was always being abused. So I think I was trying to create safe spaces through art.

Yes, the animals in the paintings and the real ones I rescued are like my inner child, which I’m trying to protect. Over the years, it’s become a way to escape from my exploiters. I never turned to brutality or misery like they did. I turned to spirituality. Even though I was abused not only as a child but also as an adult, until just a few years ago.

I don’t know how it was possible. My family trafficked me and I never even saw my earnings as an actress. They stole millions.

I feel safe where I am now. The art is definitely helping me heal. I have high security and everything, so my email can’t be hacked. If it were, they’d know where I am, and I’d be dead by now. The press supports me because the evidence is clear, even the most conservative Spanish newspapers take my side. But I still lost the case against my family. Well, I didn’t lose, it’s just archived, and I’m trying to raise funds to start it again. I’m doing what I can to fight for my rights, especially with the legal stuff. I had a brain injury, they were drugging me, defaming me, and gaslighting me. I’ve only been safe for the last three years, ever since I took the plant medicine.

Oh, I believe in God. I’m so grateful I didn’t give up. I’m so happy I survived all of this. There’s a guy I like. I have a great therapist. And I want to do more plant medicine because I feel it kind of reverses the aging process inside. So, you know, I’m excited about life now.

Obviously, in a perfect world, if I were to lock up these people – pretty powerful people – and I would take the money and start an orphanage.

More and more. I don’t think I ever knew happiness before. But now… it’s coming. I would love to have a child. They made me lose two children because they wanted to erase me and anyone who would tell my story. But I think about motherhood now, and they can’t hurt me anymore, I won’t let them. That’s something I would love. I am experiencing happiness, learning that there are good people in the world. It’s hard to trust after everything that’s happened.

They had tried to steal those paintings, so I had to rescue them. That’s the only reason I had the show. And then I have hundreds more paintings I’ve created over many years. If my blood money wasn’t enough, they were also stealing and selling my art. But as long as they aren’t burned, they still exist. They’re somewhere, so find them.

Yeah, a lot of things. But above all; purity is something sacred and should be protected.