RECENT EXHIBITION / ANNAMIEKE ENGELBRECHT
CTRL+Z
Order without finality. Precision without certainty.
A familiar command promises a return to an earlier version. These paintings meet that wish with a universe in continuous transformation: systems shift, patterns break, and every clearer view reveals something still unknown.
01 / 07
The Day the Earth Smiled
120 × 120 cm
Inspired by Cassini’s photograph of Earth beside Saturn, this painting places our entire human story within a distant point of light. Sweeping bands recall Saturn’s rings, while a Bahtinov mask becomes a metaphor for our desire to bring the universe into focus. The further we look outward, the more clearly we see ourselves.
02 / 07
Your Existence Means More Than You Think
150 × 150 cm
Every atom in your body began somewhere else. Overlapping planes, repeating sequences and swirling gradients trace an interconnected history of matter, movement and transformation. Nothing in the composition exists independently. The work considers a human life as part of an immense chain of events: shaped by everything that came before, and capable of shaping what follows.
03 / 07
You Don’t Need to Believe When Confronted with Evidence
120 × 120 cm
Images from NASA’s Artemis programme inspired this composition of the Moon, Earth and Sun. Symmetry and repeated geometric forms evoke structures that operate regardless of opinion. Against a digital landscape of manipulated images and misinformation, the painting returns to observation and evidence. The universe does not require our belief to exist.
04 / 07
Your Eyes Are Not the Measure of All That Exists
100 × 100 cm
The universe extends far beyond the light our eyes can detect. Inspired by the James Webb Space Telescope, this painting translates invisible information into overlapping planes and energetic geometry. Red evokes infrared light; hexagons recall Webb’s mirror segments, and a layered form references its sunshield. Each discovery reveals another layer of a larger, unseen universe.
05 / 07
We’re Getting Better at Measuring Our Ignorance
100 × 100 cm
Every improvement in observation expands the boundaries of the unknown. Drawing on the Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope, the painting’s grid echoes a detector array, circles suggest its primary mirror, and swirling forms evoke the cosmic web. Translucent layers stand between us and what we seek to understand. Greater precision brings sharper questions, rather than final certainty.
06 / 07
I’m Glad We Have Our Jokey Jokes to Deal with Existential Dread
60 × 60 cm
A broken sequence of π, an impossible hexagon and a pattern that refuses to behave: small visual jokes interrupt an otherwise ordered composition. They reward a second look and echo the unexpected breaks in logic that make us laugh. Our jokes do not solve existential dread, but they make it easier to carry.
07 / 07
We Shouldn’t Have Given the Apes Wi-Fi
60 × 60 cm
Seen from outside, humanity is a peculiar species: capable of contemplating the origins of the universe while arguing online and watching cat videos. Four disconnected fields and overlapping planes suggest conversations that rarely meet within the same network. The painting asks whether the maturity with which we use our tools has kept pace with our ability to build them.
EXHIBITION VIEWS
