I have a soft spot for the uncertain, for seamless transitions, for letting feelings run wild, for daydreaming and for quieter notes. When I look at the works of Julia Jesionek I get the impression that our preferences are alike. Perhaps it is also that her paintings invite us to connect with the artist’s thoughts and feelings, so that the boundaries between affinities become blurred. One cannot quite escape from the bright colors and surreal scenes, instead the artist lures us further and further into her fantastic subjects. Thus, we become part of her art, directly experiencing the emotions of the depicted characters – those who allow themselves to do so will be rewarded with a journey through the innermost, which can ultimately give us insight into ourselves.
It hisses, sizzles and hums when the artist sets to work. As if by magic paints are atomized into tiny particles and spread across the canvas through the air pressure. Mint green lines up with indigo and pink follows red. When we look at Jesionek’s paintings, we can still hear the humming from afar. It offers us orientation in this artistic world, which is reminiscent of reality but no longer has anything in common with it. Our eyes as well feel like they are buzzing, as many of the paintings appear seen through a soft-focus lens that blurs the permeable boundaries between our reality and the artist’s inner world. Driven by curiosity, we willingly immerse ourselves into these scenes full of strong protagonists, fantastical beings and all kinds of strange objects.
Like the pigments shot onto the sheet, we find ourselves in the midst of these surreal scenes. Is this still a dream or reality? And if so, whose dream am I actually in? Perhaps the red-haired character in meandyoumories is also dreaming of me, as baffled as I am in this moment. She is lying calmly on a variety of things and resembles a princess on a pea. Keys, teapot, comb and horseshoe and bunny cup seem tailor-made for this deep slumber. Through the delicate colors and the fluffy texture of the application of paint, all the subjects appear inherently light and delicate. I too would love to take a nap there – well guarded by the by the pink snake and the dove. In my dream, I become part of this order, my own memories melting meant to be shared. The thermometer makes reality flash up for a moment – is this wonderful soft cotton world merely a fever dream? Then it would be no wonder that your head is pounding – or is that perhaps the vibrating echo that refers to the creation of the painting?
There is little time to contemplate because the gaze wanders on, to see how these wondrous stories continue to unfold. Before our eyes, the paintings develop a kind of narrative – even though the scenes do not follow a clear chronology. Through their permeability, the different subjects find their way to each other, just as Jesionek’s thoughts and emotions to mine. I empathize with the weeping faces, the large tears falling to the floor and seeming to soak the background of the painting, as in Pond of You. The impression of literally having a pond of tears in front of me is intensified by the by the materiality of the painting: instead of a canvas, a towel is needed to take in all the feelings. I feel the gentle embraces that give strength and are not just limited to human characters. In these surreal constellations, this dream world, anything seems possible – here, every emotion can be lived out in its subtlest nuance!
Given this straightforward openness, it is only logical that many of the characters in Jesionek’s works are naked or almost naked. Within, there is no room for disguise, for masquerades or poker faces. There is no reason to perform here. “To be naked is to be oneself” John Berger stated in his highly acclaimed 1972 essay “Ways of Seeing”. Skin acts as a delicate and permeable threshold to the outside world. Therefore to be naked means to be particularly vulnerable.
Conversely, being naked allows us to perceive our surroundings more profoundly, as we notice every little nuance of the wind or the temperature on our skin. Like companions, the red-haired characters accompany us through these inner worlds. Sometimes they look directly at us, other times they can only be found in the background. We are quickly inclined to identify them as self-portraits of the artist, but that would be too one-dimensional of a view. Rather, they function as alter egos: where it is difficult to be fully, completely naked, in the sense of authentic, they show what remains in the imagination. They also serve us as figures of reception whether we stand facing them or peek from behind their backs. They open up these mental spaces of situations and emotions, providing the anchor that allows us to fully immerse ourselves. Be it sad, happy, proud satisfied – like a blueprint, they demonstrate what is possible on the palette of emotions.
The artworks, which appear soft due to the painting technique, do incorporate difficult feelings as well. The red-haired character in Slow Burn gazes at us with anger and suspicion. The background, which is otherwise so often painted in bright colors, is darkened, the delicate butterflies appear startled. In the Middle Ages, burning nettles were used to ward off evil spirits and demons. It almost seems as if the protagonist has conjured them to protect herself against seemingly hostile influences. Anger and mistrust are thus given a face and indicate that we are not to come closer. What is all too often brushed over with a false smile in everyday life and dealt with internally comes to the surface here. The little silver bear in the bottom left-hand corner can be understood as an ironic refraction of what is happening. Complementary to the character, the bear smiles at us as if butter wouldn’t melt in its mouth. Just like watching cute animal videos on the internet, the sticker bear turns out to be an adequate coping mechanism for difficult feelings. At the same time, the two image levels can be flipped and understood as an invitation to allow unruly emotions and grant them space rather than ever miming the sweet-faced bear.
It is these ambivalences that constantly emerge in Jesionek’s paintings. In the form of ambiguities, false bottoms or interferences, they sometimes cause irritation, however opening up an equally broad scope for interpretation. The delicate style of the paintings is contrasted by the sometimes gloomy and serious subjects. The protagonists draw us into the story, not without at times distancing themselves from us again. The works draw from the in-between, from the ambiguous, but also from our willingness to fully engage in this interplay. And so they hum on…
Julia Jesionek, born 1998 in Gifhorn, graduated from the Academy of Media Arts Cologne in 2023. Her work in the fields of drawing, painting and animation often deals in with the themes of physicality and introspection in a playful manner. In 2022 her animated short film Fulfillmenot was screened at the Oberhausen Short Film Festival, the Cologne Short Film Festival as well as other international festivals. Her graduation film Everythingness, will be premiering in Oberhausen in May. With her paintings, she is now presenting her first solo exhibition at La Felce.