New chapter next door: Fritz's Berlin loft
Artist Lena Wigers reintroduces her thoughtful, quietly expressive world to Wall of Art through her series, "Conversation", created for the WOA fall 2025 collection. In our conversation at the Wall of Art apartment, Lena reflects on the impulses that spark her process, the role of texture as a living presence in her compositions, and how she imagines these pieces settling into the rhythm of someone's home.
Photos by Björn Eklund
How would you describe your artwork in one word?
Harmonious. But also with an undertone of something a little crooked, so that the harmony never becomes too certain.
What tends to spark the idea for a new piece—a color, a feeling, previous ideas?
A mixture. Often it’s shapes or colors in everyday life that spark something, but just as often the process begins in an old sketch that’s given new life, or in a material I find—a piece of paper, a piece of canvas, an unexpected tone. Sometimes I am reminded of something I once started but wasn't ready to finish, and when time has allowed the idea to mature, it suddenly becomes clear. I try to stay open to impulses, so that inspiration can come from many different directions.
Texture plays a somewhat subtle but at the same time strong role in your works. How do you choose mediums and textures for your compositions?
I have always been drawn to surfaces that invite you to feel and that carry a life of their own—that aren’t entirely perfect. It can be aged paper, raw canvas or layers of oil and collage. The texture becomes almost like a body for the piece, something that makes the work feel more present and takes on an extra dimension.
How do you know when a piece is finished?
When balance is found—somewhere between harmony and a slight chafing feeling. I like when there is something unexpected, a skew that makes the eye not be completely satisfied.
What’s always in your studio/workspace besides the obvious tools?
Music, something good to drink and quite a lot of silence—a silence that becomes an ingredient in my creation. I love when that presence appears, when the focus becomes so strong that time disappears and just the act of creation itself becomes a source of pleasure.
How do you imagine these new pieces living in someone’s home?
At first I was going to say that I don't usually think that far. But actually, yeah—sometimes I see them as quiet company, sometimes as a strong voice that takes up space in the room. A work can stand completely alone and carry the mood, and in that case I hope it contributes warmth and harmony. At the same time, it is exciting to imagine how the same piece can become something completely different in dialogue with other works, perhaps as part of a picture wall or in interaction with the surrounding interior.