My interest in art developed as a result of different experiences and influences. Dance was very important for me growing up. I started going to dance school when I was three and kept going to the same teacher until I finished high school. Even though I grew up in a small town, her style was very modern. Through her, I was exposed to the work of choreographer Pina Bausch. I got to see one of her pieces while she was still alive and felt like, ‘wow!’ I had never experienced something like that and I think it really made me think about shapes, light, and how to look at the world. Growing up in Düsseldorf another important influence was Insel Hombroich, a museum that is also a park and was built in the late 80s by Gotthard Graubner, Erwin Heerich, and Bernhard Korte, with the idea of reuniting nature, architecture, and art in one place. This is also where Langen Foundation’s exhibition space was built in 2007. It was very innovative because visiting Langen Foundation isn’t like entering a canonical white cube. It’s more like entering a place where you can spend the day walking around and eventually reach a building with some art inside—Alberto Giacometti, Norbert Kricke …

I worked in two museums in Hamburg, Museum für Kunst und Gewerbe and Museum für Hamburgische Stadtgeschichte, the historical museum, but there I mostly had small projects. And then I went to Cologne where I worked for Thomas Zander’s gallery and was responsible for the publications. During that time, I really felt that art and curation are very close. Making a book is like curating a show, just in another way. At the same time, there’s a difference between experiencing a real-life show and looking at a book. And I think this is an important distinction, especially right now, in the digital era. It will never be the same to see a Rothko in a museum or on a digital screen.

To work there! Working there meant curating a house, not only a show. And this is also how I’m looking at it now: I’m trying to create a place for both meaningful and casual exchange, rather than simply putting up a show in a room. Because of the Villa’s many dimensions, we attract a rather diverse crowd. There are those interested in the garden’s architecture, those interested in the art, those interested in the Villa’s history, and those who are simply passing by and end up taking a tour spontaneously. What I love about this variety is that a visitor who is interested in the gardens will end up crossing paths with art, while, say, someone who is interested in the Villa’s art, might leave with an understanding of the territory’s history.

It was exciting—even though I was very happy in Cologne and I hadn’t been actively applying for jobs, I couldn’t wait to start. I just heard about the opportunity and that the person who was in charge of the Villa was leaving and said to myself, ‘Okay, I will just apply’. I also knew it was going to be more responsibility. So, yes, I was really excited, even though it was a tough start with Corona.

When I started, the first thing I wanted to do was work on formats related to education. Of course, this was impossible because for a long time people weren’t allowed to be in the same room. So we started to think about how to do things digitally. I also started to think, ‘okay, if things don’t change, then we’re doing this show outside. With hot chocolate and hot coffee to keep you warm.’ And so, during the first lockdown, we put up a show on the front of Villa with a piece by Martin Gross. That way, people could have a walk, see the work and have a coffee, for example. During the second lockdown, we installed a poster series about the history of the building in our garden. Furthermore, the class of Christian Jankowski organized so-called “one-household performances”—performances that people could enjoy by themselves, taking place in the area around the Villa.

The biggest challenge has been managing self-pressure and living up to my own expectations for the Villa.

The loveliest thing is that there’s water everywhere. In the Summer you can just go for a swim. Even during winter [laughs]! I’m always jumping in with one of my colleagues, Pola—last year we had our last swim on the 1st of November. This is something I really enjoy, leaving my desk, jumping into the water, and then feeling totally refreshed in the mind. Another place I like to go to is this really nice church ‘Heilandskirche’, in Sacrow. The interesting thing about this church is that you couldn’t visit while Germany was divided. You couldn’t go from the East, and you couldn’t go from the West, because it was literally on the border so it was like no man’s land.

In historical buildings, you have some kind of responsibility towards their history. The Villa was built in 1843. It was commissioned by the Prussian king, then repurposed as a children’s dormitory under the GDR, and only became an exhibition space in 2009, so there is a lot of German history and II World War history here.

For instance, you don’t have as many people walking in. When you are a gallery admitter in the city, people come in for ten minutes, have a look, and walk out. Our visitors are people who take the time for a longer visit, maybe a Sunday trip.

Overall I find myself thinking in very feministic terms, giving space to questions related to feminism. One of the first things we did at the end of February when we had the first lockdown was rebuilding the toilets. Now we have all-gender toilets, as opposed to separated, gendered ones. So, I think that whenever I’m making a decision, the decision will be automatically influenced by this. 

I don’t think it’s the industry itself, I think it’s the world that is still male-dominated. So the art industry is no exception. This is something I have experienced both professionally and as a private person. But perhaps I feel it more now, as I am in a position of power. At the same time, older women have sometimes come up to me saying that they are so happy that a young woman got this opportunity. And I feel the support of my colleagues from other cultural institutions. There is a lot of exchange between young women in curation or holding positions with a lot of responsibility.

I want to continue working on this idea of the open house that welcomes and encourages exchange and discussion around different topics.

The song inspired it! I came across it while we were researching artists and thinking of a name for the exhibition and it just seemed to fit perfectly. “This must be the place” is a love song without narration. Situations, actions, and feelings are described in a fragmented way, and the notion of place and home emerges organically from their interplay. 

A place isn’t determined by a building or a geographic location. It is society, along with the political circumstances, and the people that shape it. Just like Villa Schöningen is shaped by its multifaceted history and the different people that inhabited it.

As for the current exhibition, the artworks reflect individual moments, themes, and emotions, achieving something timeless and malleable without making a claim to absolute truth. The same way, the lead singer of the Talking Heads sings about looking for a place he can call home and realizes that he has actually already found it:

Home, is where I want to be
But I guess I’m already there