Johannes Daniel’s paintings present some aesthetically appealing investigations of everyday scenes and objects; his imagery is evidently specifised, often depicting a suggestion of a picture on his canvases. These scenes emerge from a broader landscape from which smaller and minimized captures are finally depicted as cropped parts of the whole image. Daniel’s technique is not concentrated on the pure representation of reality and rather on reproducing his distinctive world. Uncanny body posture, fragmented female or male bodies or more extreme body close-ups are some of his characteristic visualizations; in these fully detailed and labour-oriented compositions as well as a vividly colourful palette used in these paintings, the artist illustrates his pure interest on the ordinary. His works reflect a sort of diligent painting style revealing a transient simplicity rendered in peach, green, deep orange and grey tones that mainly decorate his work.

Words: Yannis Kostarias
More recent works delves into more abstract visualizations through which Daniel introduces new vibrant forms and shapes. Allusive references of a broader entity on canvas take over his figurative formal compositions illustrating a newer perspective on his imagery. Non-identifiable characters and other forms undertake the artist’s visual language emphasizing another type of expression which creates bonds between Daniel’s narratives and his viewers. Ambiguity might be a strong asset in Daniel’s work and now it seems that is further employed with more fragmented images. These new paintings envisage some colour values depicted on canvases showcasing a palette of bright peach, purple and bluish tones. Their tonality interaction nicely matches up with appealing abstract arrangements which further explore the artist’s perception about light andspace at the same time.

Can you tell us about the process of making your work?
Structurally I am interested in contrasts. I collect photographic material everywhere, which I digitally fragment and rearrange into collages. Each type of image can spontaneously remind me of something without having anything to do with or sharing a past. I am interested in this connection which I try to understand in my artistic process. It is only through painting that I give the resulting ideas a body. I usually create a juxtaposition of figurative and informal formulations and views of the functional aesthetics of advertising. The coexistence of opposites is as much a part of my daily experience outside as random thoughts or the choice of music. In the course of the process, the painting usually develops in a completely different direction from the initial impulse.
How would you define your work in a few words (ideally in 3 words)?
Strange weather, Melodic, Dialogue.
You are currently presenting your new solo exhibition, “Platinum Tears”, at Rutger Brandt Gallery in Amsterdam; what sort of new artworks do you showcase at this exhibition?
For this exhibition in Amsterdam, a contextual framework emerged by itself. At the very beginning I started painting an eye and the last thing I finished was an eye on another painting many weeks later. At first I wasn’t interested in depicting a person or fashionable surfaces, but simply the moment of seeing an eye, the gaze, the story and the mystery behind it. The title ‘Platinum Tears’ was an obvious choice, but also a quotation from music. In other paintings I am again dealing with fragmented representations of people, mostly without faces, because I wanted to prevent the viewer from being preoccupied with recognising specific people or states of mind. Instead, the body represents whether a person feels comfortable or uncomfortable. In the exhibition you will see paintings ranging from simple fragments to complex multi-figure compositions.
Could you share with us some insights on your painting “These are the days” (2024)? Is there any particular story behind this new work?
There’s a song I listen to every time I pack up after cleaning the brushes and studio before heading home. The catchy line “where’s the poetry? didn’t you promise us poetry” had to be written on an orange background. I wanted to see a strong, upright person in this painting. I used the complementary contrast to strengthen her character. The sphere appears for the first time in this painting and it also refers to the eye in general. I didn’t want the focus to be on the staff alone, but on the dynamics of the gaze, symbolised by a particular sphere.

Looking at your polychromatic paintings, it seems that you are applying a particular range of colours on your canvases. For instance, purple, orange or blue are some basic pale colour components in your newest body of work; which are (roughly) the right conditions that lead you to choose the right colour combinations on each painting?
I used to draw with felt-tip pens in the past and have been trying to achieve a colour equivalent with paint. That’s why I’ve been experimenting with fabric, primer and the quality of oil paint to increase saturation. I already create a sense of space through colour. I notice interesting colour combinations by chance outside or simply by mixing paint.
Do specific artworks have been created by random experiments in your studio or do you usually come up with a particular concept or narrative in the very beginning of your artistic process?
It is kind of different almost all the time. With some you just get lucky. Ideas come from intuition or just randomly from digital collages and it seems like the composition is fully formed at the beginning. But most of the time it is not like that. It takes a lot of work to finish a painting. It changes and becomes more and more complex. I try to understand what it is, what holds it together – there is an intellectual part to the process. I see a big difference between the idea and the moment when I see the painted parts of the picture in front of me. As I paint, not only does the picture change, but often my interest changes as well. That is why it always helps to work on several paintings at the same time.
It feels that your body of work predominately incites both figurative and abstract elements rendering a dynamic mixture in your iconography. Lately a painting, named ‘My body moves’ (it goes without me, 2024) clearly approaches a rather figurative painting technique. Is this portraiture one of the few attempts for something alternative and what made you concentrate on this particular work differently?
Between 2016 – 2019 I painted about 80 canvases in the same format. The initial idea was always to paint portrait-like masks, which often became objects or abstract surfaces. Practically, I wanted to work more with this format again because I have many stretchers with the same dimensions. What interested me in this new painting was the transition from thickly applied paint to a blurred area. In contrast to the finished surface, I paint impasto and roughly. When I finally dodge the surface with large dry brushes, a completely different face emerges. I am not interested in the portrait of an existing person, but in the resulting face, which carries a uniqueness and memory that is not intended. These distortions happen automatically in my painting process.
Can you mention any artists you, lately or generally, take inspiration from?
It’s kind of funny, because of course there’s a lot of different art that interests me and touches me deeply, but for months now I’ve been mostly inspired by the music of Stephen Malkmus.
What about the place where you work? What’s your studio space look like?
My studio is a large, bright room in a residential area of Leipzig. I listen to music all day and like plants around me.
Which are your plans for the near future?
I am currently working on large formats with multi-figure compositions and taking inspiration from literature. I am trying to avoid concentrating on the spatial location and more on the moment of individual juxtaposition of figures. The process in front of the canvas is particularly exciting because I don’t know what will happen in the end.






All images courtesy of the artist & Rutger Brandt Gallery