Inner landscapes or the art of letting go

What stands between us always has at least two sides and will always separate us from one another. At the same time, this very thing also connects us.

All people have inner landscapes within them. Their foundations are laid, yet they are neither static nor completely stable. They have permanence and a distinctive topography, provide support, can slip, are subject to external influences, and are at the mercy of changing weather. Sometimes cultivated but often untouched terrain that also changes of its own accord. They are companions, at least for a while, and serve as pathfinders moving at varying speeds.

With the composition of the triptychs, a central human motif is juxtaposed with two landscapes that attempt to translate the inner realms of the depicted figure into a cohesive image. The two adjoining areas to the right and left don’t just offer the viewer choices; the mere presence of a second stretch of land makes it impossible to ignore other established terrains and positions, the existence of a diverse neighborhood beyond what is shown.

At the same time, the viewer’s inner landscape contextualizes and determines the meaning of the image, and from this, everything that arises through its observation; what emerges in this way differs from viewer to viewer. Even repeated viewings by each individual can evoke entirely different responses, take new directions, rearrange affiliations, and form new alliances. After all, inner landscapes have their seasons, marked by empty beds and borne fruit.

We may find that sometimes we feel the person belongs more to their neighbor on the right, sometimes to the left. But do we realize that something completely different is also just a heartbeat away or a stone’s throw away, that all it takes is a different perspective, a chance meeting, or just a feeling to visit another home?

Anne Grosse-Leege
Berlin, February 2025