Paul Weiher’s paintings hover between figurative and abstract forms, developing a visual language whereby the human form is viewed as multi-dimensional, flexible and continuously changing forms. Figures portrayed in Weiher’s artworks often lie down, or lean toward one another or take questionable positions on the pictorial plane. The body shape in most of the canvases is over-extended or greatly diminished, and their anatomy is defined by unexpected connections between their limbs and torsos. The anatomy of the body is treated in Weiher’s works not as a fixed construction, but as endorsed with some attributes such distortion, elasticity and transformation.
In ‘Steigen und Fallen’ (2026) or ‘Hoody’ (2025), human forms and bodies in Weiher’s artworks often intertwine, which makes it hard to discern where one ends and the other begins. The artist’s attention to more figurative forms or shapes is quite obvious in his figurative arrangements; it seems common to see the bodies intertwined or hidden parts from view, making the image a puzzle to be solved by the viewer. Despite the careful construction of the composition, uncommon proportions and cheeky distortions keep it from becoming still and fixed. There is a subtle sense of humor, that one gets by looking at these configurations and shapes on the canvases, as if they were engaged in an unconventional choreography.
words: yannis kostarias
Other works take abstraction even further. Human forms can just be distinguished from loosely defined contours, smudges and overlapping marks. Here in the paintings such as ‘On the march’ (2026) or ‘Clay making a sculpture’ (2026), it would seem that the overall depiction has been through a constructing and tearing up the process: some gestures are clearly outlined while other are partially rubbed out or faded into the background. The final painting result, however, is not a denial of pure representation but an intentional interruption of it. These abstract paintings and more figure-oriented paintings are in fact the expression of the same visual understanding. Even though these different approaches are different the development of his paintings has not affected the consistency in the visual aspect of his artistry.
One thing seems to keep changing; Weiher’s ongoing fascination with the possibilities of representation. As long as a human image is drawn in detail or almost wiped away, it remains the core idea around which the whole image revolves. Through the combination of distortion, movement, variations in color, Weiher comes up with a body of work that is extremely varied in subject matter and execution style yet remarkable for its capacity for some unusual creative visualizations.
1. How would you define your work in a few words (ideally in 3 words)?
Playfulness, Ambiguity, Tension.
2. Could you share with us some insights on your new work named ‘Clay is making a sculpture’ (2026)? Is there any particular story behind this new painting?
“Clay is making a sculpture” is the most recent painting I finished and is about my friend Clay. He is a sculptor I met a couple of months ago in the same MFA program in New York. He is currently working on a series of sculptures made out of cardboard and as soon as I saw them, I knew I wanted to paint them.
Cardboard’s purpose is to protect. It carries all the things we order online and keeps them from being scratched or damaged, and yet, the material is so fragile itself. It’s so easy to destroy. In New York City, it’s all over the streets, ripped apart, water-logged, and stepped on. It serves a purpose and then immediately becomes waste. These contradictions interest me. To build sculptures with it feels gentle and loving to me. There is something so tender about taking this ordinary material and giving it another form.
Painting Clay was also a way of getting to know him and his work. It was interesting to get to know him not only through conversations, but also by observing how he works. Spending time with him in his studio allowed me to follow the process of making something: coming up with ideas, reconsidering them, trying things out, struggling, taking breaks, reflecting, and starting over. You get to see how someone’s mind works, how they approach problems, and how they respond when things don’t go as expected. Eventually, all these small decisions and detours come together in something finished. Although I didn’t make the sculptures myself, I feel quite close to them. Painting them became a way for me to spend time with both the sculptures and their creator, to reflect on how they came into being, and to engage with the material they are made of.
The painting is also about the artistic process itself. I was interested in making a painting that feels and reads like a drawing almost. In the past, I saw my drawings more as a preparation for my paintings. In this one I wanted to allow the drawing to retain its own character within the painting, to resemble the process of searching for an image itself. It’s a painterly metaphor for what is happening within the painting. Clay is in the process of making something, while the painting itself is also in the process of becoming an image. It was therefore difficult for me to finish this painting. I wanted it to retain this sense of becoming, as if the image were still taking shape, while also feeling decisive and resolved.
3. Creative process often involves using two types of approaches including free and detailed. Are you guided by both styles in your work?
Yes, I am very much interested in the tension between these two approaches. I have a natural tendency to want to over articulate detail because I feel the need to fully see the images in my paintings in order to understand them. When I began painting, I started with the details right away and often found myself losing the painting. These early paintings became boring to me. There was nothing for me to find anymore. In realizing my own need to stay in a state of curiosity, I now challenge myself to get more comfortable with the parts of the painting that I don’t understand and therefore compel me.
I am not there yet but this is where I want to head. I want to figure out how to make paintings that are both open and resolved. Playing with the tension between the unarticulated and the detail is a way for me to achieve that. I try to start a painting as open as I can. I try to find the image through painting itself and not by imposing an image upon the painting. With this approach the painting kind of tells me where I need these parts of concentration, being the parts that often turn out to be the more detailed ones. If within this process the whole painting becomes too articulated, I paint over parts of it again to regain some of that openness. There are often a few paintings underneath a final painting, all of which inform certain features of the settled version.
4. Your artwork often features somewhat irregular proportions, resulting in distorted figures. What is it that fascinates you about contrasting these two ideas?
I am interested in capturing whatever the human experience is not only through the body’s external appearance, but through the way that experience feels. To do this, I search for the image through the act of painting itself.
Rather than starting with a clear idea of the figures I want to depict, I begin with marks, brushstrokes, and shapes whose meaning is initially unclear. When I start to recognize possibilities within them I get really excited. I try to articulate what I see. I make another mark, put on some paint and look, then some more, and finally I see something budding. It could be a head or some fingers which lead to a figure. Then, what is the figure doing? Its leaning to the left side of the painting so to balance everything out you need to figure out the right side. A big blob of color, which is changing everything. The material is informing the narrative and steering it in a direction. It’s pure joy.
Because the images emerge from this process, the figures often end up distorted or disproportionate. Yet, in a certain sense, this distortion makes them feel more truthful to me. For me, painting offers a way to approach the complexity and contradictions of being human, allowing the figure to become something more than a representation of the body.
5. Your use of colours varies from calm shades of nature to bright colours. How do you determine which hue enhances the atmosphere of the artwork?
I often find myself overwhelmed by the choice of which color to use. Generally, I’m drawn to yellow as an initial color in the painting. It helps me establish the first directions, and because of its brightness, it can easily be painted over with other colors.
I’ve also noticed that I’ve become more relaxed about finding the right colors for a painting. In the past, I worried a lot and tended to overthink my decisions. The more I paint, the more intuitively I choose colors. Lately, I’ve been particularly drawn to muting colors by mixing them with their complements.
6. Do you expect any specific emotions from your viewers’ experience as they explore your body of work?
I don’t expect any specific emotions. I have a lot of wishes and hopes though, and one of the reasons I paint is to allow people looking at the work to experience something meaningful to them. At least that’s what good art does to me. It makes me excited and keeps me engaged. It activates my imagination, makes me draw connections, and allows me to discover things I might not have thought about otherwise. In the process of engaging with it, I often learn something not only about the work itself, but also about myself.
Finally, that’s what I hope my work can do as well. It’s a difficult task, because for a painting to be compelling, it has to balance recognition with uncertainty. It has to be familiar enough to captivate you, but also unfamiliar enough to keep you looking. It should draw you into a problem that you want to solve. In order to do that, I depict certain elements quite literally, trying to give the viewer something recognizable to hold on to, something that feels familiar and offers an entry point into the painting. Other parts remain more open, ambiguous, or difficult to read. I am interested in the tension between these two modes of painting, and in how they affect one another.
Through this approach, I also try to make visible what interests me about the process of painting itself. I want my paintings to not only be about their subject matter, but also about the process of the painting coming together. This is something I want viewers to experience too. In a way, I want them to paint with me: to discover something in the image, to make connections, and to get excited about what they find.
7. Do specific artworks have been created by random experiments in your studio or do you usually come up with a particular concept or narrative in2 the very beginning of your artistic process? Are they, somehow, related to personal memories or are they closer to your imagination as an artist?
I try do allow myself to do everything. I’ve worked with having ideas beforehand or even accurate drawings. Recently, though, I’ve shifted away from having a specific concept at the beginning of a painting. It’s more about getting into a specific mood before starting to paint. I love to look at other peoples paintings and that normally gets me going. This mood is characterized by excitement and joy, but also by a certain type of courage that allows me to be playful with the work.
Moving to New York a couple of months ago has certainly changed the way I work. I find myself painting more of what is around me. Whereas in Leipzig. I painted more from my imagination. This often left me feeling like the paintings are too distant, and questioning what they have to do with me. Coming to a new place confronted me with a lot of new visual information. I notice that a lot of shapes and forms from what I see on the streets make it into my paintings. The city feels so hectic and chaotic. Everyone seems to rush to some place, there’s a constant fight for room and air and attention. I notice that I am increasingly interested in ways of capturing motion with the paint. The recent paintings are a way to arrive at this new place.
8. Many of your characters seem to exist in the space between grotesque and surreal. What made you start working in this realm?
I don’t know. I am still figuring it out. I am not sure if there’s a specific biographical moment that made me start working in this realm. Those are also not the first things that come to my own mind when thinking about my paintings, although I can see what you mean. I’m interested in creating paintings or figures that are exaggerated, pushed to the point of becoming almost ugly, and yet still make you sympathize with them. I think we appreciate another person on a deeper level when we recognize their flaws and come to like them just because of them. That’s an apparent paradox I’m trying to translate into painting.
I’ve realized that I seem to be searching for something I would call the wit of the image. By wit, I don’t necessarily mean humor in the sense of a joke or a gag, but rather a clever idea, an unexpected insight, or a surprising connection. I think of it as something that can be found in every good painting, even one dealing with seemingly dark or serious subject matter. Initially, I tried to create this wit through the content itself, by inventing absurd situations and strange human encounters. However, I often ended up simply illustrating sketches, which lacked the painterly qualities I was looking for. Over time, I came to realize that the wit I am interested in is not just in the subject matter, but in the entire painterly expression: in the composition, the way you put paint on the canvas, and ultimately even in how the work is displayed. This has led me to put the act of painting itself more at the center of my practice, trying to discover where and how this sense of wit can emerge through painting. I try to remain open to the narrative that comes to life through this approach, and then find a way to express it through painting without going too far or making it too obvious.
10. Which are your plans for the near future?
In the near future, I want to explore different ways of displaying my work. I’m working on a series of paintings that I want to place in bicycle baskets and ride around the city. I love the idea of collecting impressions from the street and securing them in a little basket. In a way, this resembles what I try to do through painting: to catch something fleeting, an impression or a feeling, and give it a form.
Placing a painting in a basket becomes a metaphor for this process. It also resembles the act of taking something from the world into the studio, holding onto it, and reshaping it. In a way, the studio itself is just a big basket, filled with things I’ve found. I’m also excited by the idea of taking the paintings back into the world from which their initial impressions came. This creates a circular movement between the street, the studio, and the street again.
all images courtesy of the artist