The Moment In Between

Christine Gallmetzer in Conversation with Prof. Dr. Bernhard Maaz

Forum Würth Rorschach, 8 October 2026

A conversation about time, suspension and transition, the possibilities of painting, and the openness of the unknown.

The Leap into the Unknown

BM: Let us begin with your Turmspringerin (Female Diver) of 2020, now part of the Würth Collection. To what extent is this painting concerned with sport, ideals of the body, or, more fundamentally, the human condition?

CG: The original idea had very little to do with sport. What interests me is a fundamental aspect of human existence. Every day, we take a leap of some kind, venture into uncertainty, or move towards an unknown future. This state of being in between, this condition of transition, is a metaphor for life itself. We have already taken the leap, yet we do not know where or how we will land. It is this delicate balance between confidence and risk that interests me.

BM: Could one say, then, that the painting embodies uncertainty combined with elegance? The ability to maintain one's composure even when the destination remains unknown?

CG: I am less concerned with elegance than with a notion of beauty that also contains a certain ambiguity. Art should be free to step outside the ordinary flow of time and allow us to inhabit a single moment. Much like a cinematic still, the image implies that something has happened before and that something else will follow. Yet the painting holds only this one fleeting instant.

Time and the Art of Suspension

BM: What appears to be stillness in your paintings is not really stillness at all. In musical terms, one might describe it as a fermata: a moment of suspension before the next note.

CG: It is precisely these intervals that fascinate me. We experience them in our own bodies. Between inhaling and exhaling, there is a brief pause. Our heartbeat follows a rhythm, and our thoughts unfold in much the same way. What happens in these intervals? To my mind, life becomes concentrated within such moments. That is what I seek to capture in my paintings.

BM: Your diving towers, too, seem to embody this moment of suspension. They are not merely architectural structures but places of decision. What are we prepared to risk as human beings?

CG: A diving tower represents the possibility of a decision. Do we climb to the top and dare to jump? The question remains unresolved. I am interested in precisely this sense of uncertainty. Art should not deliver an unequivocal message. I believe a painting need not reveal everything. It should retain an element of mystery.

Colour, Painting and the Process of Thought

BM: Your paintings are distinguished by a particularly striking use of colour. Which art-historical traditions have shaped your approach?

CG: I have been deeply influenced by the Italian Renaissance, particularly by Piero della Francesca and Fra Angelico. Their use of colour and the extraordinary concentration of their figures continue to fascinate me. One of my favourite paintings is Piero della Francesca's The Baptism of Christ in the National Gallery in London. I still find it remarkably modern.

BM: Your paintings frequently incorporate layers, structures and superimposed patterns. They conceal certain elements while simultaneously opening up new pictorial spaces. What significance does this process hold for you?

CG: I want to create different spatial and conceptual dimensions within a painting. The viewer should not be able to apprehend everything at a glance. The eye has to find its way through the image. Many of my paintings evolve over several years. They are repeatedly reworked, painted over and reconsidered. For me, this is one of painting's essential qualities: it slows down the process of thinking.

BM: Painting not only slows down thought; it deepens it. That is a significant observation. Painting takes time. The processes of overpainting, reconsidering and searching anew are fundamental to your practice.

The Sky and the Unseen

BM: In The Captured Sky, you explore the image of the heavens through a superimposed network of lines. What lies behind this conception?

CG: I am interested in the ways our perception of the sky has been shaped by culture. For centuries, the heavens were understood as the dwelling place of the gods, a realm of transcendence. Today, the sky has largely been stripped of its mythology. We associate it with satellites, astronauts, technological developments and military conflict. I find myself wondering whether such a place still exists for us at all. Perhaps we must seek it within ourselves, in our individuality and our capacity for hope.

BM: This touches upon a fundamental human longing for transcendence. At the same time, your paintings repeatedly explore the relationship between the here and the beyond, between what is visible and what remains concealed.

CG: Through the layering of forms and structures, different planes emerge: a foreground and a space beyond. On the essentially flat surface of the canvas, dimensions begin to unfold that have no actual physical existence.

Cable Cars and the State of Suspension

BM: Your cable-car paintings extend the theme of suspension in a different direction. Unlike the divers, these suspended cabins are at least supported by a cable.

CG: Yes, I see the cable cars as a continuation of the diver paintings. The cable suggests a fundamental sense of trust, the belief that something will hold between two points whose beginning and end remain beyond our view. Once again, we do not know where we have come from or where we are going. It is the state of suspension itself that matters most to me.

BM: The idea of transition thus connects seemingly disparate bodies of work. Your astronauts extend this exploration into an almost limitless realm.

CG: The astronaut is another development of the diver motif. The unknown is projected into the vastness of the universe. Although the figure wears a protective suit, the destination of the journey remains uncertain. I continually return to questions of space and time, departure and arrival, and the relationship between what we know and what we can only imagine.

BM: What emerges is the extent to which your painting is informed by a far-reaching intellectual inquiry. It concerns the multiple layers of meaning within an image, but equally the complexity of human experience. Painting becomes a form of thinking.

An edited and abridged version of the artist conversation held at Forum Würth Rorschach on 8 October 2026. Based on the manuscript revised by Bernhard Maaz.