Caroline Bachmann

From her window, often in times when the light is less determined and more changeable at sunrise or sunset, Caroline Bachmann observes the Lake Geneva. Her sketchbooks are filled with drawings more than with notes: she records the minute variations in her environment and what it causes in her, paying attention to the time that goes by. Her work is meticulous. It translates lines and colors, lists winds and temperatures, transcribes light, the shape of clouds, water textures, and effects of reflections. She draws diagrams and symbolic formulas worthy of a semiotic essay or a mathematics notebook. The variations are incessant so that the same window also offers infinite possibilities. Caroline Bachmann develops new techniques with ease, playing with layers and transparency, aiming to transcribe almost invisible mutations. For the artist, it is a case of questioning the forms of repetition and series, of bringing the vision back to its conceptual expression, an allegory of a mental landscape where the apparent symbolism refers to a form of spirituality.