I studied Literature, Art, Media Studies, and later on, Curatorial Studies. I have always been interested in museums—which are now undergoing a profound transformation as we rethink existing institutions and formats while developing new forms of presentation, mediation, and knowledge production. Following this interest, in 2015, I moved from Zurich to Berlin and worked as an intern and a curatorial assistant at Hamburger Bahnhof. And after that, I worked as an artist liaison at the gallery Sprüth Magers. There, I worked closely with different artists and estates. 

But the highlights are the people I met in all those different positions. I had a lot of mentors, not just other curators and gallerists but also artists.

At the very beginning of my career—when I was interning with the Hamburger Bahnhof—I worked on the reinvention of Allan Kaprow’s ‘Fluids.’ The original work was a participatory piece that happened in various public locations in California in 1967, where Kaprow asked people to build ice structures within the city. In 2015, the Hamburger Bahnhof decided to reinvent this piece by inviting contemporary artists to respond to this happening piece from their practice. There were artists such as Ahmet Öğüt, Alexandra Pirici, and the artist’s group Stadt im Regal. 

This was one key moment when I thought, “Okay, this is really what I want to do.” The focus of this project was on the audience and their participation—it involved so many people. I now think it is so important for the future of museums to think about the audience so that we don’t become bunkers with beautiful collections.

At the beginning of 2020, I started working with Fondation Beyeler—where I’m still working—so I moved from Berlin to Basel. There, I met the Zurich-based architects ARC1706, and one of them asked me to join a hiking weekend with a group of people, all working in different fields. That was the first time I went to Val Poschiavo, and visited Casa Tuena. 

For the first edition, ARC1706 invited me to choose the first artist-in-resident. So we began working together in the program. This was a project which has nothing to do with my institutional job and allowed me to try things while being open to failing.

The house is right at the southern end of Lake Poschiavo and looks at the Bernina mountain. On the right, there’s this little church San Romerio. Around here, people grow their own vegetables, you can take a hike, and people from the village go to church up the hill.

Casa Tuena itself has always been a place for gathering. It was built in the 18th century by farmers with natural materials from the valley and was a place to live and work. Much of its original nature was lost during a renovation in the 60s. In 2018, ARC1706 brought Casa Tuena back to its character by using the original structure and only local materials. All of the interventions focused on finding a contemporary way of integrating the history of the house.

They thought about the house in dialogue with its surroundings and history. Every space frames the view into the landscape and creates a subtle continuation of the exterior into the interior. That is what Casa Tuena is—a place where the past collides with the present. The future is brought closer by retracing those existing forms, movements, and narratives that are already there. It is a space where viewers and artists can become agents of positive change, and hopefully progress.

I think that artists are more and more interested in having moments to contemplate. When you look into history, artists and writers have always found inspiration and intellectual debate in the mountains, in nature, in the landscape. So many artists feel this urge to dive into the quietness, the light, and the materials they’re surrounded with—the colors, the stones, the water. This is what I find so unique about the residency format— it gives the artists the possibility of embracing this craving of a pause from the usual routines and inhabiting a space free from tension and production pressures.

Within the current art production and consumption landscape, a residency like Casa Tuena is unique—there are no deadlines and no production requirements. For me, it isn’t about the media in which the artists work—they can be writers, collectives, or visual artists—but it is more about them being open and ready to share their ideas and practices and to create cultural debate, especially with the local and cultural communities.  

For the first edition, I chose Oslo and Berlin-based artist Marius Glauer. His oeuvre is intriguing, complex, and strongly influenced by nature. His photographic works contemplate the phenomena of resonance by creating futurist images that seem fallen out of time. He was the perfect match for the Casa Tuena. During his stay, we had multiple conversations about art, his work, the valley, and the people he met there.

At the end of each edition, there is a gathering for the artists to communicate and exchange new perceptions and ideas. In the last one, we invited Zurich-based chef Ivan Pepe, who dived into the region’s specialties and cooked a menu with local ingredients.  The idea of Casa Tuena is to bring people together while giving back to the local community.

I would like for Casa Tuena to be a place that connects people working from different fields and brings life into the village. To become a platform for artists and the community to gain exposure and build their professional network. A place where the residents can focus on their work beyond the parameters of production and an exhibition and engage with the architecture of this house, and with the spiritual experience of being in this region.

I’m very curious about how Marius—the first artist of the residency—will translate this experience into his artistic research and practice. I can say already that his body of work—shot at Casa Tuena—will be shown at the art space Bad Posture in Lausanne from March 9, 2024, onwards.