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  • Writer's pictureKatharina Poggendorf Kakar

Memories of a Dream


Renate Poggendorf, Sediments

My mother is a self-taught painter, who turned 85 last year and is slowly turning blind. Despite the hardship of aging, she still paints. As a child, she introduced me to many artworks in museums, and allowed me to experiment with materials at home as much and as wildly as I wanted. Not surprisingly, painting and creating “things” became important to me. The joy of creating impacted my decision in 2012 to “become” a self-taught artist myself and set up a studio space in my house in India.

My first clear memories of modern artists who moved me while growing up, where the paintings of Mark Rothko and Joan Miró, and the weird installations made of honey and fat by Joseph Beuys. My mother used to drag me to such exhibitions, not always to my liking, I found it rather boring as a kid, but today I am deeply grateful that she implanted that interest in visiting museums and art spaces. Wherever I go today while travelling, I look at art, and I believe it has deeply shaped my perception as an artist.

I must have been eleven or twelve, when I saw Miró’s paintings for the first time and urged my mother to buy a poster, which I glued on our bathroom wall, where it was hanging for many years. Soon after, six kitten were born in our home and while, one day, sitting on the toilet, staring at the poster, thinking about names for these kitten, I decided to name the one I was allowed to keep: Miró.

Last night I had a dream of the house I grew up in and my beautiful grey cat, born 42 years ago and named after the colorful artist Miró, reappeared in that dream. I woke up, recalling paintings of Miró and thinking about drawings of a friend I recently saw, which had faintly reminded me of Miró, wondering how thoughts and memories find their way into our dreams at night. Looking back, I believe that apart from the bright prime colors -the reds, blues and yellows- I liked so much as a child, Miró’s body language -the flow, the movement, the childish, dreamy elements in his works- had spoken to me. Not just now, but also as a kid.




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