Artist Statement
For an Art of the Apocalypse
I see myself as a curious passenger on a sinking ship, searching through its flooded corridors for anything useful—something that might still be turned into a raft. But what I find cannot be salvaged alone. These are spaces of collective care work, already experimenting with what it means to live in the world of tomorrow.
I am Julian Kraemer and describe myself as visual artist. That fits well, as I paint a lot. But my art is only the most surface of a broader practice. I am interested in how to create collective, locally rooted infrastructures as a response to resource conflicts of the future.
In my figurative-expressionist oil paintings, I explore the feeling of powerlessness in a world that has fallen apart. Progress, justice, nature—these concepts seem fragile, almost nostalgic. What happens when one realizes that we are not just living in a crisis, but are actively partaking in shaping it?
My paintings emerge from a reduced colour palette, absurd compositions, and an often aggressive brushstroke. They pose questions without offering simple answers. I challenge routines of power, consumption, and technology—sometimes playfully, sometimes with humour. Distance creates insight, and sometimes, laughter is more effective than a raised finger.
At the core of my work is the belief that the era of the "great individuals" is over. No major societal challenge has ever been solved by a single person—only by many, working together. What if sustainable solutions have never come from lone geniuses but from collective processes? Might it be, that the ship of modernity is still sailing under the wrong flag?
I am not that much interested in the deeds of single humans, but rather search for places where communities have developed viable solutions together. The real question is: How can different collectives reach peaceful agreements on solutions that do not disadvantage any group? My art, made from discarded materials, is part of this search—it disrupts black-and-white thinking and invites engagement beyond rigid narratives.
When the ship is taking on water, building barricades won’t help. What we need are stories that inspire hope, embrace cultural diversity, and imagine a future for all humanity - not just the few. We must learn from the places that are already living as if they belong to a world of tomorrow. Only through and with them can we understand what it means to save both: cultures and their environments.