In his paintings, Bonn-based artist Tobias Stutz (born 1983) creates a symbiosis of modern architectural aesthetics, Bauhaus influences, and digital precision. His works, which often depict imaginary architectural icons such as Californian villas in reduced forms and a finely tuned color dramaturgy, function as places of contemplation and deceleration. After studying with Ralph Fleck in Nuremberg and completing a master's degree at Alanus University, Stutz developed an unmistakable visual language that masterfully combines silence and structure, thus building a bridge between contemporary painting and architectural vision.

When you hear the title of our exhibition, “Catching Light,” you realize that your works fit it particularly well. You play very intensively with light and shadow and with the way light hits different surfaces. This can be seen in your earlier works, in which you painted glass facades and windows, but also in your current works. Can you tell us what significance this interplay of light and shadow has for your art?

Tobias Stutz: Light and shadow are interdependent; one cannot exist without the other. To put it poetically, I am reminded of a quote by Leonardo da Vinci, who said that there is something “ambiguous” between light and shadow—he called it “dark light” and “light shadow.” What we perceive as light or shadow is ultimately always relative. But it is only through these two poles that forms become plastic and visible to us in the first place. This contrast is most extreme and clearest in architecture – often much clearer than in nature or other subjects.

A recurring theme in your work is what Le Corbusier called “machines for living.” What fascinates you so much about this motif?

Tobias: What appeals to me about machines for living is the tension between reality and abstraction. I'm interested in the question: How much abstraction is there in reality, and how realistic is abstraction? The balconies of these buildings have a strong serial quality. I like this rhythmization of forms that repeat themselves and recede into the distance. They form a sculptural frame—and the theme of “frames” plays a major role in my work anyway. An interesting side effect is that these balcony boxes often look to me like little pots of paint in a watercolor box.

You just mentioned the frame. With your “Shaped Canvases,” you go one step further: you break out of the classic rectangle and incorporate architecture into the composition of the picture, so to speak. How did this series come about, in which you seem to constantly reinvent yourself—from tall towers to complex window structures?

Tobias: I started with the Shaped Canvases about ten years ago. The format has been around for a long time in art history, but mostly in the field of abstract painting. I had never seen it in this form—combined with representational architectural painting. For me, it was the logical consequence to transfer the geometric shapes that I already had in the pictures to the picture carrier itself. By abandoning the rectangular format, the plasticity and the trompe-l'oeil effect – i.e., the deliberate deception of the eye – are greatly enhanced.

Would you say that “illusion of space” would be an appropriate headline for your entire body of work?

Tobias: I would go even further: painting is basically always an illusionistic art form. As soon as you paint representational images, you suggest three-dimensionality on a completely flat surface. The only truly “honest” form would be Mark Rothko's color field painting, where it's all about pure color on the surface. The word “deception” often has negative connotations, but I see its positive counterpart: surprise. When I paint, I want to surprise myself and also give the audience that moment—when you first see something three-dimensional and then realize, “Oops, it's just a flat picture after all.”

When looking at your pictures, the depiction of materials stands out—for example, the hard, gray concrete, which you give a certain warmth through your use of color. How do you approach the depiction of materials such as glass or concrete? Is it a playful process of experimentation for you?

Tobias: I just had an exhibition titled “Concrete Transparency”—a play on words combining concrete and transparency. The exciting thing is that both materials (concrete and glass), although visually contrasting, have a mineral origin. Painting is always about translation. I ask myself: What technical means can I use to interpret the texture of these surfaces? It's an individual view of things and their implementation.

Do you have any tips for visitors on how they should approach your works? Is there a kind of “search for clues”?

Tobias: I don't have any specific instructions for use. I myself work standing up and am constantly on the move—constantly moving back and forth between the canvas and the distance from it. However, the hanging is interesting: since my paintings often work with strong vanishing points, they work better when they are hung a little higher than one is used to. When the horizon line of the painting is above eye level, the shaped canvas effect and the spatial illusion are much stronger.

Tobias, is there anything else you would like to add? Perhaps something about your color selection process?

Tobias: An important aspect for me is the quality of the paint. Yellow, for example, is qualitatively brighter than white, and a deep blue-violet can appear darker than black. I experiment a lot with color temperatures: warm colors push forward, cold colors recede into the background. This is how I create depth in the image—not only through the perspective of the shape, but also through that of the color, as well as sharpness and blur. Although my paintings appear very planned, I actually work very intuitively. There are “head painters” and “gut painters” – I believe that the intuition of the gut is often more intelligent than the head. I also usually mix the colors directly on the canvas and not beforehand on the palette. So the painting really emerges during the process.

Thank you very much, Tobias, for these exciting insights into your working methods!

We would also like to thank Torsten Schimmer for allowing us to use the portraits he took at Tobias Stutz's studio in Bonn.