NOTES ON “CORONA DIARY”:

At the beginning of the first lockdown, 2020 I had “still quickly” ordered a roll of linoleum online:

Article No. 23, Berlin red. The roll 2 meters wide, 5 meters minimum order quantity was delivered to the “curb”, unfortunately as so often these days, the shipping company had not called. The truck was just suddenly there, spitting out the heavy roll of precious linoleum.

Somehow I made it to the sidewalk and began rolling up, measuring, dividing, cutting and hauling away in the middle of downtown under the incredulous eyes of neighbors and passersby.

That was my survival treasure, driving on sight and carving for time. First the statue of St. Corona, according to legend a helper against the plagues, then many printing blocks Berlin and Munich after 45. Everything destroyed, only a few landmarks as silhouettes: the Memorial Church, the Residence, the Brandenburg Gate, the Museum Island.

I had always made linoleum prints, but never exclusively, it was like a pull. A friend of mine of many years only said that between the wars and after 45 many women artists had discovered linoleum as a medium for themselves. It came out of demolition houses, among rubble and ashes.

During a walk I met a young family. The tousled father, amused despite the times, was building a mountain of things behind a “To Give Away” sign on the sidewalk. When I stopped, interested, he pulled out a large, square cardboard box. He said it’s still available, too, and there’s a great book in it. He gave me a gigantic red bound photo album that contained 50 brand new pages of handmade paper and spider leaf dividers in. I stored the heavy thing in the bushes to carry it to its place of action on the way back.

This is how the CORONA DAYBOOK came into being. Linoleum hand prints from green tinting paint.

Partly watercolored, these were supplemented with texts and frottages of digital signs of life that reached me by email.

Due to a pandemic, I had to give up my Munich studio in 2020 and move everything to Berlin. While clearing out, a folder with printing blocks from the post-war period was found. Intrepid schoolchildren from the family had worked stories into the linoleum with knives and scissors. It was told from a world between mythical figures, country life and tanks. I have printed them as comments and signs of hope between my Corona motifs and texts. My spatial works are anchored in the architectural context in terms of content and form. I install linoleum prints on many different image carriers and always spatially.