On Images, Flavours and the Emergence of CONVIVIUM

It began with the seven deadly sins.

I wanted to depict pride, greed, lust, envy, gluttony, wrath and acedia without treating them as a catalogue of religious morality or relying on their familiar symbols. No mirror for pride, no gold for greed, no lavishly laid table for gluttony and no flames for wrath. These human forces were to become visible through the body: through posture and movement, openness and withdrawal, tension, gesture, light and shadow. Latin words, written directly onto the skin in a historical Bastarda script, were intended to give voice to their inner language.

The series was already conceptually well developed when I listened to Modest Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition. In this work, music encounters the images of another artist through a language of its own. It does not explain the works, nor does it attempt to translate them into sound as accurately as possible. It absorbs moods, movements and ideas and allows something independent to emerge from them.

As I listened, a question occurred to me: What if it were not music that responded to images, but culinary art? A second question followed almost inevitably:

What does sin taste like?

What does pride taste like? What temperature does wrath possess? What is the texture of acedia? Is lust sweet, soft and warm – or is that idea already too obvious? Could gluttony be contained in a single, barely sufficient bite? Is envy bitter – or are we merely repeating a familiar linguistic association?

These questions do not require definitive answers. They open a space between the senses.

Suddenly, the seven photographs were no longer merely representations of human forces. They had become seven open questions addressed to another art form.

At first, the idea seemed simple: the photographs would be exhibited and a chef would create a menu in response. Photography and culinary art would encounter one another. Yet the longer I considered it, the clearer it became that this could hold far more than an exhibition accompanied by exceptionally good food.

Photography is already an interpretation. I do not begin with a finished image that merely needs to be realised technically. I begin with a subject that I approach intellectually, historically and emotionally. From this emerge body postures, light, shadow, writing, directions of gaze and movement. The completed image is not a neutral representation of the subject, but my personal photographic interpretation.

A chef would therefore not simply interpret the seven deadly sins. They would encounter my interpretation of the seven deadly sins and respond through an artistic language of their own. This created a new sequence of perspectives:

A theme. A photographic interpretation. A culinary response. The guest’s personal experience.

From this idea, CONVIVIUM emerged.

Since then, the idea has not let go of me. I am deeply drawn to the possibility that a photographic work might be continued through another art form; that images might evoke flavours, temperatures and textures; and that a shared space of experience might emerge from this encounter. I have therefore begun to develop CONVIVIUM photographically and to create several series conceived from the outset for this form of dialogue.

Whether that dialogue will actually take place remains open. There has not yet been a CONVIVIUM evening, there is no finished event format, and there is no certainty that chefs, restaurants, hotels or cultural venues will find the idea as compelling as I do. The first photographic voice is already taking shape. Whether people will be found who wish to respond to it – and what form might emerge from such an encounter – remains to be seen.

Not an Exhibition with a Menu

CONVIVIUM is not intended to be an exhibition at which food happens to be served. Nor is it a menu presented in a room decorated with photographs. The images are the point of departure. Culinary art is not an accompaniment, but an independent artistic response.

An image of wrath does not necessarily have to lead to a spicy dish. Gluttony does not automatically call for abundance. Lust need not taste sweet, soft and seductive. Such associations may be appropriate, but they can just as easily become predictable.

The project becomes interesting when the culinary interpretation develops a position of its own. Perhaps pride appears flawless and immaculate on the plate, yet proves disturbingly empty in flavour. Perhaps gluttony consists of a single concentrated bite that immediately creates the desire for more. Perhaps wrath initially appears cool and controlled, only to erupt in the aftertaste. Perhaps a chef completely contradicts the image – and in doing so reveals an idea that I myself had not yet recognised within it.

A genuine dialogue does not arise when one side merely carries out what the other prescribes. The chef is therefore not the executor of a photographic concept, but the second artistic voice of the work. Photography does not set a task, and culinary art does not provide a solution. Both open different paths into the same conceptual space.

An Evening Between Images and Flavours

Imagine entering a restaurant, a hotel or an exceptional venue. The photographs are already standing or hanging in the space: large in scale and physically present, not as background decoration, but as an essential part of the evening.

Perhaps each guest initially receives a plate containing several small bites – as many as there are photographs in the series. Nothing is explained in detail yet. The guests move through the space, look at the works, talk to one another and meet both the artist and the chef. The first connections begin to form between image and flavour, body posture and texture, light and temperature, shadow and taste. Some may feel immediate, others contradictory. Even before anything is said, perception has begun its work.

The menu follows. Before each course, I speak about the corresponding image: its theme, my photographic interpretation, the development of the body posture, the light, the shadow or the script used. The chef then presents their own response. What did they perceive in the image? Which ideas did they take up? Where did contradiction arise? Why were these particular ingredients, textures, temperatures or methods of preparation chosen?

Then the course is served. The image remains visible, and both interpretations remain present in the space. The guest tastes, observes and compares, perhaps agreeing with one interpretation or contradicting both – and develops a personal response. The result is an experience that is neither merely observed nor merely consumed. It brings together different senses, ideas and artistic signatures.

Yet this vision is not a fixed set of stage directions. Perhaps a chef does not develop a traditional sequence of courses. Perhaps there are culinary stations, small interventions, a flying dinner or an entirely different dramaturgy. Perhaps the photographs are presented in an unexpected order. Perhaps the culinary idea even changes the way in which the images are arranged within the space.

CONVIVIUM is an artistic framework, not a ready-made event package. Its specific form can emerge only through the people involved, their ideas and the particular character of the venue.

Between the Senses

We speak quite naturally of warm or cool colours. We describe a sound as soft, a voice as dark, a thought as bitter or a memory as sweet. In doing so, we connect perceptions that initially belong to different senses. CONVIVIUM deliberately works within this space between them.

The photographs have no actual taste. Yet light, shadow, posture, movement and expression can evoke associations with flavours, temperatures or textures. An image may appear brittle, soft, cool, heavy, sharp or sweet, even though none of these qualities is objectively contained within it.

Conversely, food can create inner images. An aroma evokes memories. A texture can awaken a sense of comfort or resistance. A flavour that initially seems familiar may change, unsettle or develop into something unexpected.

This approach is synaesthetic – not in the narrower neurological sense of an involuntary linking of the senses, but as a deliberate artistic exploration. Seeing, tasting, smelling, feeling and remembering are not treated as separate experiences. They enter into relationships and expand one another’s expressive possibilities.

Photography does not prescribe a flavour, and the culinary interpretation does not provide an authoritative translation. They encounter one another in a space where a shadow may become bitter, a gesture cool or an absence unexpectedly sweet.

Why Culinary Art?

Cooking, dining and the culture of enjoyment have accompanied me for many years. I am interested not only in whether something tastes good. Culinary art works with an extraordinary range of expressive means: flavour, aroma, temperature, consistency, texture, colour, form, memory and expectation.

A dish can soothe or unsettle. It may appear familiar and withdraw from us a moment later. It can awaken something childlike, seduce, irritate or touch a memory that seemed long forgotten.

In this respect, culinary art differs less from other art forms than one might initially assume. An image does not affect us solely through what it depicts. It works through rhythm, contrast, materiality, emptiness, proximity and distance. Likewise, a dish does not communicate only through its ingredients. A crisp element beside a soft cream already creates a contrast. A cool surface may conceal a warm centre. A flavour may be immediately present or unfold only gradually.

Photography and culinary art employ different means. Yet both can create emotional and sensory experiences without having to resolve them entirely into words. It is precisely there that they meet.

Images Whose Aura We Enter

The idea began with the seven deadly sins, but it is not intended to end with a single series. CONVIVIUM is conceived as a growing body of photographic work. Several new series are intended to emerge each year, opening different emotional, human and sensory spaces.

Not every photographic work is suited to this purpose. A CONVIVIUM series requires conceptual depth and a strong emotional or sensory presence. It may offer an interpretation, but it must not close off every possible reading. It must remain open enough for another artistic voice to respond.

Its presence within the space is equally important. From the outset, the series are conceived for large-format presentation.

I want to create images that are not merely viewed, but whose aura one enters.

Scale is not an external effect. At a height or width of more than one metre, the photographs no longer confront the viewer as small, self-contained image surfaces. Bodies, gestures, light and shadow acquire a spatial presence of their own. The image is not merely seen. It changes the atmosphere of the space and physically involves the viewer.

From a distance, a work must have an immediate impact. As the viewer approaches, it should reveal further layers: skin, writing, structure, shadow and detail. The viewer does not simply stand before the images, but moves within their sphere of influence.

Not every photograph possesses this quality. Some works depend on intimacy, restraint or the closeness of a book. The series created for CONVIVIUM are therefore developed specifically for their later scale – through their themes, visual language, composition and dramaturgy.

They generally comprise between five and twelve works. Each image must be able to hold its own within the space while remaining part of a shared atmosphere. The series is not intended to decorate a place, but to transform it.

From a Series to a Body of Work

The seven deadly sins mark the beginning, but not the conclusion. Several new series are intended to expand the spectrum of CONVIVIUM each year and address new photographic questions to culinary art.

I am not deliberately searching for themes that can be translated into food as easily as possible. That would be too simple and would probably soon become predictable. I am interested in subjects open enough to evoke different ideas and to offer space to another art form.

What does guilt taste like? What texture does memory possess? Can longing be warm and cold at the same time? How does an image change when a chef perceives something within it that I never intended? Such questions are not meant to lead to a particular answer. They are intended as starting points for independent artistic exploration.

The forms that emerge from CONVIVIUM will therefore also depend on the people willing to respond to these photographic questions. Perhaps a series will find its culinary voice immediately. Perhaps it will remain open for a long time. Perhaps different chefs will encounter the same images at different moments and develop entirely opposing interpretations.

I will continue to expand the photographic foundation of this body of work. Its further path, however, remains open. Perhaps CONVIVIUM will initially remain a photographic body of work whose culinary responses still exist only as possibilities. Perhaps a single evening will demonstrate that this dialogue can genuinely succeed. Perhaps people and places will be found that wish to develop the concept together and allow a recurring format to emerge.

I do not yet know which of these paths CONVIVIUM will take. That uncertainty is part of its appeal. The idea did not emerge from market research or from a finished event concept, but from an artistic question. I now want to give that question the space to be answered. The photography remains. The responses may change.

The Beginning: SEPTEM VITIA CAPITALIA

The first series in this body of work is SEPTEM VITIA CAPITALIA – The Seven Deadly Sins. Pride, greed, lust, envy, gluttony, wrath and acedia are not treated as a catalogue of religious morality. I am interested in them as human forces that act within all of us in different forms and to varying degrees.

The photographs dispense with traditional symbols and props. Pride is not represented by a mirror, greed by gold, gluttony by food or wrath by flames. Each sin finds its expression through the body.

The poses are inspired by expressionist dance. Rising, opening, reaching, twisting, tension and withdrawal make inner states visible. Dramatic forms of light and shadow extend the movements of the body. Latin words were written directly onto the skin in a historical Bastarda script, uniting language and body within a single visual surface.

The seven photographs are complete. As a CONVIVIUM series, however, the work remains open. Its second voice – the culinary interpretation – has yet to emerge.

An Invitation to Continue the Dialogue

I want to discover whether this idea also awakens something in others: whether chefs already perceive flavours, temperatures, textures or stories of their own when viewing the photographs; whether restaurants, hotels, galleries and cultural venues recognise the possibility of a new form of encounter between art, culinary culture and an audience.

CONVIVIUM is intended for chefs who do not merely wish to illustrate photography, but are willing to encounter it through an independent artistic position. The project is also intended for restaurants, hotels, galleries and cultural venues that do not simply wish to present art and culinary culture side by side.

The result might be an exclusive multi-course menu, an exhibition opening extended through culinary interpretation, an open reception with several sensory stations or a form of event that does not yet exist. The growing number of photographic series may also create the possibility of developing CONVIVIUM as a recurring format – with new themes, new visual worlds and new culinary responses.

The aim is not to fit partners into a concept that has already been completely defined. A restaurant, hotel or other venue brings its own spaces, experience, guests and ideas. A chef contributes a personal culinary signature. Only through this encounter can a specific form emerge.

CONVIVIUM is intended to be developed together.

I am looking for people and places in which something already begins to take shape while viewing the photographs: a flavour, a temperature, a texture, a memory, a contradiction or an idea that demands to be explored.

Whether this develops into a shared evening, a long-term collaboration or something that no one can yet foresee remains open. The photographic question has been asked – perhaps someone will wish to respond.