Nathalie Ho-Kang-YouNathalie Ho-Kang-You

Title thesis:
NARCISSUS PHANTOM
AMONOLOGUE INTÉRIEUR

Subject:
Painting is like a dance for me, a ritual for the soul, the Narcissus. In the Phantom-experience the stream of mind is complex, that what is not there seems more alive than that what is there. The Phantom-experience works like the biblical story about The Golden Calf. In the absence of something, a person, an object, an idea, it is better to idealise something that does not exist.
I am what I am not, and I am not what I am
Jean Paul Sartre

Very often I ask myself: How do I see plants and nature? There is a shadow, I use yellow. There is a leaf, I paint it blue. I am astonished by a potted plant – this small island of nature – right in the middle
of my house. When I meditate, I think about skinny body parts. I look at myself and see my hand doing something. My mind starts an unconscious choreography. The results are mostly tropically coloured objects of inanimate
nature: almost dead flowers and overstretched body parts brightly exposed. At the same time I have the feeling to disappear, the paint must dissolve into an unsettled background. Memories of a distant nature are there to keep us alive! I start and end with colours. I clash; I use your desire for monumentalism to show my weakness. I judge that my art is a candy, bitter or sweet, you decide!

Title thesis:
NARCISSUS PHANTOM
AMONOLOGUE INTÉRIEUR

Subject:
Painting is like a dance for me, a ritual for the soul, the Narcissus. In the Phantom-experience the stream of mind is complex, that what is not there seems more alive than that what is there. The Phantom-experience works like the biblical story about The Golden Calf. In the absence of something, a person, an object, an idea, it is better to idealise something that does not exist.
I am what I am not, and I am not what I am
Jean Paul Sartre

Very often I ask myself: How do I see plants and nature? There is a shadow, I use yellow. There is a leaf, I paint it blue. I am astonished by a potted plant – this small island of nature – right in the middle
of my house. When I meditate, I think about skinny body parts. I look at myself and see my hand doing something. My mind starts an unconscious choreography. The results are mostly tropically coloured objects of inanimate
nature: almost dead flowers and overstretched body parts brightly exposed. At the same time I have the feeling to disappear, the paint must dissolve into an unsettled background. Memories of a distant nature are there to keep us alive! I start and end with colours. I clash; I use your desire for monumentalism to show my weakness. I judge that my art is a candy, bitter or sweet, you decide!