Furnishing a Small Apartment
A few months ago, we traveled with our grandchildren to Klagenfurt am Wörthersee, in the beautiful region of Carinthia, Austria. As with so many family outings, one stop on the itinerary was chosen with the children in mind: the Happ Reptile Zoo. Yet what we discovered there went far beyond our expectations. On just a few thousand square meters, more than a thousand snakes and reptiles live together. For the children, it was an adventure – for me as an artist, it became an unexpected source of inspiration.
The world of snakes is fascinating. Small, almost fragile-looking species glided gracefully through their terrariums, while mighty boas and pythons rested lazily across branches. Venomous or harmless, in delicate shades or bold contrasts – the variety was overwhelming. What struck me most was the way snakes move. No legs, no wings – only a flowing, wave-like motion that radiates both strength and elegance. A symphony of tension and release, unique in the natural world.
As I wandered among the terrariums, a thought took shape: how could I capture these flowing lines, this play of motion and stillness, in my art? Metal and wood seemed to me the ideal materials. Metal to hold the taut line, wood to bring warmth and natural character. From that idea grew a series of small furniture pieces, inspired by the mysterious world of snakes.
The works that emerged from this can be seen in the images: wall shelves that don’t follow a strict straight line but end in gently curved shapes. Side panels that bend as if they wish to continue their motion. Frames that go beyond mere function, catching the elegance of a slithering form. In the living room, they add dynamic shape above sideboards or televisions. In the kitchen, they frame everyday objects in a playful way. In the study, they bring structure without ever appearing rigid. Each version – in black, white, taupe, or blue – evokes a different element of the snake’s world: strength, delicacy, or surprising bursts of color.
Snakes, in many cultures, are symbols of transformation and renewal. They glide smoothly through their surroundings, adapting without ever losing their identity. To me, this is exactly what art should do: blend into the world – while giving it character. Nature shows us that true beauty often lies in movement, not in stillness. This is the awareness I want to pass on through my work.
What began as a simple holiday outing with our grandchildren turned into a tangible series of works that I am proud to present today. Sometimes inspiration doesn’t come from grand museums or international art fairs, but from an unexpected encounter with nature. And who knows – which forms or patterns in nature inspire you in your daily life?
