This painting began as a technical study for art class in school, a reconstruction exercise after Klimt’s Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer I.

While working on the piece, I carved the phrase “Nie wieder” into the back layer as I researched the history surrounding the portrait. Later, I noticed that when sunlight or a candle shines from behind the surface, the words appear through the gold, and then disappear again when the flame dies. That small discovery changed the direction of the work. What began as an academic study turned into a reflection on how fragile remembrance is, and how fragile we are as human beings.

For me, “Nie wieder” marks a promise humanity has repeatedly failed to keep, the recurring pattern in which suffering, displacement, and violence return even after we declare them unthinkable. I am not thinking of governments here. I am thinking of people: families, children, strangers, the vulnerable, anyone who carries the weight of decisions they never made. Lighting the candle is my way of holding space for them, for their lives and their dignity, even if no vow in history has ever been strong enough to protect them fully.

The illumination is central: memory requires active maintenance.
When the light is present, the vow becomes visible.
When the light fades, so does the promise.