Where do you actually recharge?
Presence Summer Collection | summer unplugged
Every night I plug my phone into its charger. Without thinking, completely on autopilot. I would never dream of sending it into the next day on three percent battery.
With myself, I do it all the time.
I have been thinking about this a lot since I got back from arte Wiesbaden. Most people stopped in front of the Presence Summer paintings – some of them abruptly, mid-stride. One woman told me: In front of this painting, I just want to jump. For another, that very same painting was a heart beating with joy.
But the other works set things off too. A blue painting completely calmed one man down – in the middle of a loud art fair. And in front of another, a woman unpacked a whole set of memories from a holiday.
All of them walked on differently than they had arrived. As if they had recharged in passing.
Arte Kunstmesse Wiesbaden
What recharges you, if it isn't your phone?
We talk a lot about exhaustion. About too much screen time, too much news, a world that weighs heavily on us right now. We talk far less about where our energy actually comes back from.
For me, the answer has always been: in front of a painting. Not just any painting, but one that does something to me. It's exactly why I paint in so many layers. Every layer carries some of the energy I put into it. Whoever stands in front of it gets some of that back.
Still, I was surprised to learn that this isn't just an artist's romantic idea. King's College London and Art Fund studied what happens in the body when people look at art. One group stood in front of original works by Van Gogh and Gauguin at The Courtauld Gallery; the other looked at reproductions outside the gallery. With the originals, the stress hormone cortisol dropped by 22 percent on average. With the reproductions, only by 8.
For me, that is the real point. A painting on a screen is a pointer. The impact only happens when you stand in front of it. Impact doesn't post well.
After two packed weekends, the studio is a little quieter right now. First Wiesbaden, then the open studio days as part of Kultursommer Südhessen.
At the open studio, I experienced something similar to the fair. People let themselves sink into the paintings and took something with them. And afterwards I noticed something that really surprised me: suddenly I could sort my paintings into three groups.
Paintings that bring back memories. Paintings that calm you down. Paintings that give you energy.
Three very different ways to recharge. I didn't paint them according to this scheme. It only became visible through the people who stood in front of them.
Now I'm preparing for the next two fairs: ART MUC in Munich and the Affordable Art Fair in Hamburg. And for the first time, I have a word for a booth before I have chosen a single painting: RECHARGE.
The question is the same as always, just a little sharper. Not: Which works go together? But: What should people take with them when they step back into the aisle five minutes later? My answer: a bit more battery than before.
Kultursommer Südhessen in my Studio
What is inspiring me right now
A book
How to Do Nothing by Jenny Odell. The subtitle says it all: Resisting the Attention Economy. Odell is an artist herself, and you can tell. She doesn't write about digital detox as a wellness trend, but about who our attention actually belongs to – and how to reclaim it: through birdwatching, walks, real encounters. For me, the book is an invitation to look more closely. And to recharge while doing it. https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/600671/how-to-do-nothing-by-jenny-odell/
A read and something for the ears
The King's College London and Art Fund study I mentioned above. What fascinates me most: in the participants, art engaged the immune system, the hormonal system and the nervous system all at once. Even the researchers were surprised. https://crackmagazine.net/2026/03/art-fund-stress-study/
A little pause
This time not a cup, but a small side project. There are days when I'm not with my canvases – and my creativity still needs somewhere to go. So I drew my old Game Boy. I turned the sketch into a cross-stitch pattern in Illustrator (yes, my old job says hello), laid it onto good Hahnemühle paper, pierced the holes and then embroidered the paper with cross-stitches. Once it's finished, it gets a beautiful frame and a place of honour in our home. I don't know about you. But for me, this is a way of recharging too: working with my hands, with good music playing.
Side Project Game Boy
A film
Perfect Days by Wim Wenders. A man who cleans public toilets in Tokyo and fills every day with the same small rituals: cassettes in the car, books in the evening, a photo of the light in the treetops during his lunch break. And all along there's great music: on his cassettes he listens to Lou Reed, Patti Smith, Van Morrison, Nina Simone. That alone makes the film worth watching. A film in which almost nothing happens, and yet it left me recharged. It shows how much energy lies in the things we usually overlook. https://www.imdb.com/title/tt27503384/
A sound
And speaking of good music: once again, my husband made the pick – known to many as @der_vinylfluencer. His choice: Get Sunk by Matt Berninger, the singer of The National. Very cozy and relaxed, just right for slow autumn evenings to recharge. https://www.mattberninger.com/
October and November in the studio
From 23–25 October, I'll be at ART MUC in Munich, booth H3.16. Will you stop by? I'd love it if you came to say hello.https://artmuc.info/besucher-infos/
From 5–8 November, I'll be at the Affordable Art Fair in Hamburg, booth A2 – together with Lakeside Gallery from Switzerland. https://affordableartfair.com/fairs/hamburg/
I have free tickets for both fairs – still some for Hamburg, just a few left for Munich. Just reply to this email and I'll send you yours.
And if you can't make it to Munich or Hamburg: my studio is open by appointment.
work in progress | presence collection
Until then, I wish you an autumn with full batteries. An evening when your phone stays in the kitchen. Something for your hands, and the right record to go with it. A book that makes you look again. A film in which almost nothing happens, and yet it stays with you. Or a painting you stop in front of for a moment, and walk on differently than you arrived. Because recharging doesn't happen while scrolling past. Only while standing in front of it.
Warmly, Nina
Atelier Notes is published once a month.
A letter from my studio – about art, culture, spaces and the small observations that shape my work.
I also have a newsletter in German; if you'd prefer to subscribe to that, please check out my website https://www.ninakipper.de/