Mixed Media — CHRISTIAN LICHTENBERG

S E L E C T I O N A F T E R T H E S T R O K E

These works begin with fragments of existing language:
old papers, traces of writing, systems of signs.

Upon this dense surface, a single gesture appears —
a circle, a square, a field of colour, sometimes a void.

The intervention is minimal, yet decisive.
Meaning is not added but interrupted.

Between the noise of accumulated text and the silence of the mark, a space for contemplation opens.

Code 3 (two parts)

Oil Paint on antique Calligraphy from Japan / Paper on Canvas /

160 x 100 cm

The Place Before Words

Antique Calligraphy from Japan on Paper on Canvas

80 × 100 cm

Randerscheinung

Antique Calligraphy from Japan on Paper

47 × 32 cm

Sediment

Acrylic paint on Antique Paper from Japan on Cardboard

89 × 108 cm

Code 1 (two parts)

Oil Paint on antique Calligraphy from Japan / Paper on Canvas /

100 x 160 cm

The Afterlife of Words

Antique Calligraphy from Japan on Paper on Canvas

80 × 100 cm

Ma: The Space of What is Missing 1

Antique Calligraphy from Japan on Paper

26 × 34 cm

Islands of Language

Antique Calligraphy from Japan on Paper

79 × 99 cm

Ma: The Space of What is Missing 3

Antique Calligraphy from Japan on Paper

51 × 35 cm

Fragments

Acrylic paint on Antique Paper from Japan

on Paper on Plexi

40 × 50 cm

The Archive of Blue Skies

Antique Paper from Japan on Canvas

80 × 100 cm

The Weight of Nothing

Antique Calligraphy from Japan on Paper on Plexi

40 × 50 cm

Black Presence

Acrylic Paint on antique Calligraphy from Japan /

Paper on Canvas / 104 x 120 cm

Code 2

Acrylic Paint on antique Calligraphy from Japan /

Paper on Canvas / 100 × 80 cm

The Memory of Paper

Antique Calligraphy from Japan on Paper on Canvas

100 x 160 cm

Ma: The Space of What is Missing 2

Antique Calligraphy from Japan on Paper

26 × 34 cm

Where Meaning Pauses

Antique Calligraphy from Japan on Paper

88 × 60 cm

Sediment of Time (3 Parts)

Scratches & black pigmented Acrylic on woodboards

55 × 124 cm

S E L E C T I O N F R A G M E N T S O F S I L E N C E

These works are layered prints composed from defragmented fragments of Japanese calligraphy. Once carriers of meaning, the characters have been broken apart, multiplied, and reassembled into dense visual fields.

What remains is no longer language in the usual sense. The words dissolve, but the gestures endure.

Each stroke still holds the movement of the hand that wrote it — hesitation, pressure, rhythm, breath. Detached from grammar and syntax, the fragments become pure marks, drifting between writing and image, between memory and abstraction.

Like echoes of forgotten texts, the calligraphies overlap and interfere with one another, forming a visual atmosphere rather than a readable statement. Meaning is not delivered but suggested — emerging briefly before dissolving again into the surface.

In these layered constellations of ink, writing returns to its origin:
a trace of human presence moving through emptiness.

Size: A3+

S E L E C T I O N G R A V I T A T I O N A L B O D I E S

These charcoal drawings explore the tension between mass and space.

Dense charcoal forms press against each other, leaving narrow passages of light between them.
What appears solid begins to shift: shapes dissolve, merge, or hover in uncertain balance.

The drawings are not representations but fields of force—
quiet studies of gravity, proximity, and the fragile boundaries between form and emptiness.

Size: A4

S E L E C T I O N M A S S & I N T E R V A L

Bodies of charcoal.
Narrow intervals of light.

Between them, space.

Sizes: A4 + A3

S E L E C T I O N S C H W A R Z A R B E I T

These works emerge from a reduction rather than an accumulation.
Large fields of darkness are interrupted by a single line, a narrow band, or a fragile rhythm of marks. What appears at first as absence slowly reveals itself as a space of heightened attention.

The dark surfaces are not emptiness but depth — a field in which the smallest gesture becomes significant. A line becomes a measure, a pause, a point of orientation. The work does not describe an object; it registers a moment in which something barely perceptible comes into being.

In this restrained language the paintings approach silence.
They suggest the minimal conditions under which perception begins: a line against darkness, a rhythm within stillness, a presence emerging from almost nothing.