Susanne Witzig
Art knows no disability
Susanne Witzig is a painter born and living in the former GDR in 1971. She grew up in a system that offered no room for her as a child with a special talent in the artistic field. She noticed a special sense of color early on, which manifested itself in the fact that she was never satisfied with the basic colors in art class. Instead, she consciously mixed her own colors very early on and never painted according to instructions, but rather the way she felt and perceived things. This earned her a lot of criticism and incomprehension rather than her talent being recognized and encouraged.
At the age of 12, she was diagnosed with a chronic illness that was characterized by discipline, renunciation, pain and suffering. There was little space and time for the emotions and things that a child or teenager normally does. These restrictions meant that all emotions and talents were nipped in the bud and set her on a conventional career path. In 2015, she led an excessive life among files in an open-plan office until she suffered a physical and mental breakdown due to a dissociative movement disorder and has been 90% wheelchair-bound ever since. This was followed by stays in clinics and the long struggle to return to a normal everyday life. During this time, it became clear that recovery could only happen if she found herself and actively processed all the things that led to this serious diagnosis and managed to find a healthy relationship between her soul and her body.
All the emotions and realizations that come with this process are reflected in her artwork. Above all, abstract painting is an expression of her soul and is reflected in the vibrancy of her pictures. For Susanne Witzig, painting what she feels is nothing other than the enthusiastic affirmation of life, which includes love as well as enthusiasm, inspiration and creativity.
Susanne Witzig mixes some of her acrylic paints herself using neon colors to achieve even more luminosity. The energy and emotions released by painting give her strength and courage. It is precisely this strength and courage that she wants to pass on to others and share with the world through her artwork.
The viewer is invited to feed emotionally on the pictures and is encouraged never to lose faith in themselves.
You've spoken eloquently about how your art serves as a vivid portrayal of your soul's narrative. Can you describe a specific piece that you feel encapsulates a pivotal moment in your personal or artistic evolution? How did creating this piece influence your relationship with art?
My artwork “Trial by fire”, which was created in July 2024, shows very clearly that there is a constant personal but also artistic development in my art. For example, it stands out from all my other geometric paintings due to the intuitive choice of complementary colors orange and blue in the background. Rarely are there large explosive color differences or color fluctuations in my energetic backgrounds. In most cases, the background is created by mixing different shades, which are arranged next to each other in the color scale rather than in opposite directions. It is worth mentioning that blue is not one of my favorite colors. It is therefore all the more astonishing that the color blue appears so dominant in Trial by fire, as the proportion in terms of area is much smaller in contrast to the orange and yellow tones. It is the intuitive choice of the “cold” blue, which stands opposite the “warm” orange in the color wheel and makes it clear that not only the preferred colors are applied, but that these are selected according to how it feels at the time of creation. With “Trial by fire, I mercilessly confront my ambivalence. On the one hand the beloved emotional orange, on the other the unloved pragmatic blue. The opposites are finally allowed to break out and come to the fore like in no other work of art of mine to date. “Trial by fire” encourages me to be more courageous and to allow the opposites to exist. The structure of the geometric elements always manages to capture the chaos bubbling in the background for a moment and to steer it completely into orderly channels and dissolve it into a certain symmetry. Thick black bars, traced umpteen times as an expression of demarcation and autonomy, and yet all geometric symbols merge into a unity with the energetically charged background, which creates a certain tension but also an enormous liveliness through the orange and blue complementarity, while at the same time warming. Everything contradictory finds its place and is allowed to be and, above all, to be ruthlessly uncovered and shown. On the one hand, Trial by fire allows me to dive into the depths of my abysmal soul in order to bring out everything that was previously useful in order to escape all the madness I have experienced, but on the other hand to encounter precisely this merciless reappraisal with a certain kindness and to celebrate the work of art in all the contrasts it offers.
Having grown up in an environment that often stifled your creative expression, how did those early experiences shape your approach to art once you were free from those constraints? What was the first piece you created that felt truly liberating, and can you share the story behind it?
A decisive moment in finding my way back to art was art therapy in a clinic, where I spent many weeks after a physical and psychological breakdown. There had been many attempts to return to painting in my life since my childhood, but I had never before been prepared to face the negative emotions that painting brought with it. In addition, until the time of therapy, intangible fears also played a decisive role. Fears of showing my vulnerable soul, which intuitive painting in particular entails. Even in the pictures I painted as a child, reality was never visible, but I painted things as I perceived and felt them. My hands were always artistically inspired and driven by my innermost being. These are all things that were undesirable when I was a child. There, it was mandatory to paint and create according to instructions. Denunciation and far-reaching sanctions, especially in the form of psychological violence, nipped any special abilities in the bud and I suppressed all creativity from then on. During a stay in hospital in 2022, I took part in a painting course on cubism. The instructions were clearly explained, but I immediately felt that everything inside me was resisting painting what the instructor was telling me to do. After some thought and consideration, I decided to paint what I wanted. I let myself be driven by my inner self and my hands. Although I constructed and painted completely outside the theme of Cubism, the initial annoyed expression of the course instructor turned into enthusiasm and amazement. I painted what I felt and was not sanctioned; at first I felt insecure because I was expecting to be punished or reprimanded. But neither happened, instead they encouraged my lost love of painting and provided me with endless material. In my opinion, this was the most important and only true experience I needed to end my trauma. From then on, the spell was broken and I felt like I was painting day and night in the clinic. By the way, my first work called “Lilly” hangs in our living room and every day I look at it and sometimes a tear rolls down my face because I realize that this painting may have saved my life. It still takes time to realize that my painting is just as right and good as it is. It is my own way of communicating and showing myself to the world. There is no right or wrong in painting and certainly not when you paint intuitively. Everything that can be seen and felt on my canvases is a part of me and every single part is authentic and has its right to be lived and painted.
You mention the significance of expressing movement through the head and the soul, despite physical limitations. Can you walk us through your creative process from conception to completion? How do you translate the intangible—emotions and mental images—into physical form on your canvas?
My artworks are a creative reflection of my innermost soul. With them I represent the artistic symbiosis between emotions, colors and elements in all their abstractness. On the one hand, there is the explosively luminous emotional background, which is applied by wiping and mixing different acrylic shades and in which there is a small dab of neon color for each warm color to achieve more luminosity but also uniqueness. On the other hand, there are the unorthodox elements applied in the foreground. Emotions such as anger, sadness, passion... become colors and qualities such as courage, strength and power become elements. All lines and elements are traced several times with a ruler and stencils, on the one hand to achieve a high color and luminosity, on the other hand it is part of the creation process of the works, because the constant tracing of all forms and lines relaxes me and leads me in the best case to the balance between my body, mind and soul.
My pictures do not show any whitewashing and at first glance, especially in the geometric works, there is little that is beautiful in the classical sense, but I am prepared to embrace and show the new and thus the rather unwelcome openness and truth. Every picture I paint is a journey to myself and I am often surprised at what I discover when the picture is finished. Physical exercise used to be so existential for me that on some days I would run half a marathon or cycle around a hundred kilometers. The main thing was to get far away, but unfortunately I got further and further away from myself with every kilometer of my journey. When I paint, every journey to myself is a huge adventure and expresses what my soul is unable to say through words. Through painting, I have found an optimal way to not simply extinguish the blazing fire within me, but to transport it outwards and let it shine. It's my way of saying to the world out there, “hey, I'm physically severely impaired, but I'm here...and how!”
Your unique sense of color was evident even as a child. How do you choose your palette for a new artwork, and what role does color play in conveying the emotional and thematic undertones of your pieces?
My paintings live from the intensity of true inner emotions and the resulting intuitive choice of colors during the painting process. I have never seen colors purely as pigments, but have always felt them in all their nuances. Even as a child, I wasn't interested in color theory and even the fact that everyone laughed at me because I combined pink with red and brown, for example, didn't stop me from painting my world as colorful as I personally perceived it. For me, painting is now the perfect means to the end of mercilessly processing and depicting inner emotional outbursts and ambivalence. An ambivalence that goes beyond the normal level of feelings of any kind and often makes it seem almost impossible to tolerate or endure. In these moments, only the canvas can help to break through the suffering and tension felt and, in the best case, to tame it. The intuitively chosen colors in the background, which represent the extreme emotionality in the form of sadness, grief, anger, but also joy, enthusiasm and love, make it clear how busy my innermost being is with giving my feelings a face and bringing to the outside world what I am unable to say through words. The interplay between the explosive and bright colors in the background make my vulnerable soul visible, which tries every day anew to somehow survive in the swamp of everyday madness, to find its way through the ambivalent feelings of fear, sadness, anger, but also joy, hope and passion. Not to despair at the constant dispute between body, mind and soul. During the energetic process of applying the backgrounds, I succeed, at least for the moment, in capturing the chaos that is bubbling inside and directing it completely into orderly channels. In this way, my colored backgrounds create a certain tension and liveliness, but at the same time they warm and calm me, first and foremost myself. With the intuitive choice of colors, I dive into the depths of my abysmal soul to bring out all that has been repressed and was useful to escape all the madness I experienced. Through painting I am confronted with a merciless reappraisal, yet I can face it all with a certain kindness and celebrate my artwork in all its beauty. For me, painting is my way of psychoanalyzing. In this way, my reappraisal in creative processes feels almost gentle and sometimes even playful.
Since your breakdown in 2015 and the subsequent realization that art could aid in your healing, how has your artistic expression contributed to your recovery and management of chronic illness? Are there therapeutic aspects of your art practice that you think could benefit others facing similar challenges?
I think that everyone is capable of dealing well with illness. It doesn't matter whether the illness is physical or mental. The social environment in which you live and the extent to which people are prepared to see illness as a path and not as a punishment or something that will stand in their way of happiness for the rest of their lives certainly always plays a decisive role. The magic word is making and in my specific case, painting. Of course, it doesn't have to be painting that can heal people or make them happy, but I think that one decisive factor contributes to this, namely living out the special abilities within us. That you do what fills you with joy and where you are completely with yourself and free from judgment and evaluation. I think that many people tend to compare themselves with others and no longer see what they are made of. That's why it's important first and foremost to find out where my own strengths and abilities lie and what things I can achieve physically and mentally. For example, I admire all the artists who paint canvases measuring three meters by three meters and wield their brushes almost acrobatically, knowing full well that this will never be possible for me due to my limited mobility. Then I'll just paint myself happy on smaller canvases. Even with a disability, you can be irrepressibly strong-willed, lively and, above all, agile. With my painting, I show that movement is not only with the arms and legs, but above all with the head, the mind and the soul. What good are well-functioning legs if they only serve to enable me to run away from myself every day? For me, the wheelchair is not primarily a disability, but the last and above all only salvation. If I had to choose today between my old life or the wheelchair, I would say I would stay in the wheelchair. Because it made me realize that I am much more than the daughter, sister, aunt and friend who only ever functions. Now I finally feel free and experience in many moments what it means to be truly happy and content. First and foremost, I paint for myself, but I also hope that viewers of my paintings not only look at them but also feel them and recognize the strength in them that makes it possible to always believe in yourself and dare to go your own way. Because it is your own path that leads to a healthy relationship between body, mind and soul.
You've transformed significant personal and physical challenges into a source of strength in your art. What advice would you give to artists who feel hindered by their circumstances, whether physical, mental, or environmental?
To be honest, I don't want to presume to give advice to others and I don't want to decide who is an artist and who is not. I am convinced that everyone will find the right time for themselves to change things in their lives in order to eliminate the circumstances that have led to disability of whatever kind. The things that make me happy and that help me to have a relatively healthy relationship between my body, mind and soul do not necessarily apply to others. If you ask me today whether I would organize my life differently if I knew that I would be in a wheelchair at the age of 42, I would clearly say no. Because I didn't know any different and lived my life the way I thought was right and good. If I could have done it better or differently, you can be sure that I would have done it. I believe that in order to change things, you need one thing above all: experience, which is as individual as each person themselves and has to be gained.
What do you hope your audience takes away from your artworks? Is there a particular reaction or understanding you aim to evoke with your expressive abstract paintings?
I have no desire to evoke a particular reaction or understanding of my artworks. It is very important to me that everyone is allowed to be free and unconstrained in their perception. They should see exactly what they are willing and able to see. I paint abstract pictures in which both the color background and all the elements or shapes on it are purely intuitive. Each color triggers something different in everyone and even if a background shines sunnily in ten different shades of yellow, it may trigger sadness in someone, for one person red is the color of love, liveliness and warmth, another person associates it with anger, aggression, fire, fear...As an artist I will never be able to do justice to everyone, but I have the opportunity to do right by myself, so I paint what I feel and everyone else is free to decide whether they like the picture or not. Of course I'm happy when people see from a distance that there's a real Witzig hanging on the wall, because ultimately it could mean that my pictures are associated with me as a person and an artist. Under no circumstances do I want my art to be reduced to my disability. The fact that I am physically disabled is a fact and has led me back to painting in a way, but whether my art is considered good or bad should not depend on whether I am in a wheelchair.
Who or what are your greatest artistic influences, and how have they shaped your approach to art? Are there specific artists, movements, or philosophies that resonate with your methodology or the themes you explore?
To be honest, there is no great or famous artist who has influenced my approach to art. For many years I was friends with the doctor and painter Dr. Heinz Werner Dittmann. He was a great doctor, but an even more gifted painter. His use of color in his paintings fascinated me and he was the only artist whose artwork I could feel. I also find the story of Frieda Kahlo inspiring, who created unique works of art despite her severe physical impairment and never lost faith in herself. That impresses and encourages me, because it shows that you don't need a healthy, fully functional musculoskeletal system to paint great, impressive pictures.
How do you balance the personal and universal in your art? In striving to express deep personal experiences, how do you make your work accessible or relatable to a broader audience?
My big theme and one of the reasons why I paint is actually the desire and hope to find a good balance between my body, my mind and my soul. This is still very difficult, as my previous life was very much focused on repression and splitting off emotions, and my intuitive painting keeps opening new doors and gates that quickly unbalance my innermost being. But I've realized that using painting as therapy is a good way to go because I don't feel pressured and it happens at my own pace. Also, only what my body and soul can handle comes out. Anything I'm not ready for won't find its way onto the screen, but everything that's on my canvases is 100% me. As far as the general public is concerned, I have often wondered whether it wouldn't be better to paint flowers, landscapes or portraits. Figurative painting doesn't need any great explanations, a grasp of philosophical subject matter or an understanding of deep psychological aspects. At my exhibitions, I often find that visitors look at my paintings in a completely different way without my personal background. Initial enthusiasm about the colorfulness and explosiveness of the paintings often turns into fascination, love of detail, relief and also gratitude after a tour, because in a time when it's all about bigger faster more beautiful, it's obviously good to meet people who fearlessly stand up to all this and show themselves in all their complexity with their strengths but also with their weaknesses and, if you like, put them on display. I believe that artists like me, who enlighten and courageously break new ground, are absolutely necessary in this superficial world, just as Frieda Kahlo, Dali, Picasso, van Gogh and many others were absolutely necessary. Of course, I never tire of mentioning that I want my art to inspire people to always believe in themselves and to dare to go their own way.
Looking ahead, what directions are you interested in taking your art? Are there new themes, mediums, or techniques you are eager to explore? How do you see your artistic narrative evolving in the coming years?
As I am now very physically impaired and my health will not improve in the future, but rather deteriorate, my thoughts are not so much focused on the future. I'm currently fighting against losing my sight forever, which is of existential importance for painting in particular and somehow produces a lot of anxiety. So I try to enjoy every day and take it as it comes. With such severe physical impairments, it's very difficult to plan tomorrow because anything can happen every day. I am happy when I open my eyes in the morning and my body signals to me that it will be a day on which I can paint or be creative in some other way, for example. I'm happy about that and enjoy it to the full. But of course I also dream of exhibiting in large galleries, even beyond Europe, and of people clamoring to decorate their walls with my artwork. Even if I'm not the biggest advocate of digitalization and artificial intelligence in particular, I benefit greatly from it. Because today it is possible to exhibit your artwork without having to physically hang it on a wall. With my disability, I simply can't afford the logistics that it used to take to get several works of art into an exhibition, especially when you consider that I'm no longer even able to put my shoes on by myself. I think almost all artists have the dream of showing others and the world what great things they have created. Realistically, however, this should not be an artist's motivation, because the percentage probability alone is very low and we all know that painting beautifully is by no means enough to be successful. Of course I will continue to paint because it makes me happy and temporarily puts me in a state of intoxication, which I urgently need in order to come to terms with my past, with myself and everything that is going on around me, but what and how my painting will develop in the future, I have no idea. In intuitive abstract painting, nothing can be planned anyway, nor is there a purpose to it. I simply continue to be guided by my soul and my emotions, that is the most reliable component and as long as I am physically able to paint, I will not stop communicating to the world with my art. I myself and many people out there love what I paint, they can't all be wrong. So I'm just going to keep at it and live this dream.