In conversation with: Noah Rennebaum

Noah Rennebaum has been studying art education at the University of Leipzig since 2018. His own painting in parallel with his studies, through self-study, additional art courses and exchanges with other artists. 

He has been a member of the SKM since 2022. His works are currently on display in the exhibition “Beyond the Visible”, which is on display at the SKM Gallery in Leipzig until 8 November 2026.

School, university and the path to art

Hello Noah, Just under a year ago, you were already in conversation with Erich and shared many insights into your career path. You explained that art has been a part of your life since your school days and that you eventually went on to study art. Today, you’re studying art education whilst also working intensively on your own painting. What does creating art mean to you personally? 

For me, art is an alternative reality that I can shape according to my own vision. The feeling of creating is incredibly powerful. It gives me a sense of control and security, unlike what reality sometimes offers me.

Here in Leipzig, art education is part of the university and is therefore structured differently to many art colleges. How does this structure affect your own artistic work and development? Does it present any particular advantages or disadvantages for you? 

As a trainee teacher, I’ve focused on the fields of art, sport and educational sciences. It’s less about practising a subject and more about teaching it. That’s what clearly distinguishes teacher training from a degree in art. Alongside theoretical subjects such as art education, art history and child development, the course included practical modules on printmaking techniques, drawing, painting and digital media. What I particularly missed were collaborative artistic projects and having my own workspace at the institute. Apart from the printmaking workshop, there weren’t many opportunities to work there, especially during the pandemic. 

My art was mainly created alongside my studies; I was already painting in oils right from the start. However, this was never part of the course, so I used my free time for self-study. I painted day and night, and almost always on my own. There was also no reason or opportunity to change that. When I finally moved into my studio, I had more space to work, but I still worked on my own. I did exchange ideas with friends, but they were almost exclusively from outside the field. I would now see that as a disadvantage, as it’s so important to talk about one’s art, particularly with fellow artists.

Working methods and technique

In our last conversation, you described how your paintings often turn out better the less you think about them, and that this results in a certain discrepancy between your original vision and what ultimately ends up on the canvas. How much intuition and how much conscious decision-making goes into your painting today? How much do you already know about a painting before you start painting? 

Before I start painting, I usually don’t have a fully formed idea of the finished painting. It’s more of a hunch or a direction linked to a specific intention, which only takes shape during the painting process. For me, thinking as little as possible about each individual step doesn’t mean working unconsciously. On the contrary, because it is precisely in this state that intuitive and conscious decisions intertwine. I often feel that this allows me to paint more directly and perhaps more honestly. 

Whilst working, I constantly try to take a step back and respond to what has already emerged on the canvas. This creates a sort of dialogue between my original vision, the decisions I make whilst painting, and the painting itself. This process does not always work equally well, nor can it be fully planned. Yet for me, this is precisely where an important part of painting lies. At the same time, I want to learn to steer this process more consciously and expand my painterly vocabulary. I can practise this specifically by working with different media such as pencil or watercolour , experimenting with different formats and engaging with varying subjects and fundamental artistic questions. Such exercises help me to make conscious decisions with greater confidence, without losing the openness and intuition inherent in the creative process. Which aspects take centre stage depends on the work in question. In my plein air paintings, for example, I am often less concerned with an exact reproduction of a place than with capturing its atmosphere, movement and overall effect. External conditions such as wind, sun and changing light become part of the picture. Light generally plays an important role in my work. Many of the photographsthat I collect as a starting point for my paintings are taken on sunny days, as I am particularly interested in the contrasts, colours and spatial effects they create.

When one looks at your work over a longer period of time, it is striking how much you have developed, both technically and in terms of materials. Is there anything that particularly characterises your current approach? What are you currently exploring in your painting – in terms of form, materials or even content? 

In terms of subject matter, I continue to focus on landscapes, whilst at the same time I’m becoming increasingly interested in figurative work. To explore this area in greater depth, I’ve, amongst other things, attended courses in nude painting and engaged more intensively with physicality, hands, figures and expression. Working in different formats has also changed my perspective on painting. Alongside very small works measuring around five by five centimetres, I have also worked on very large, sometimes larger-than-life formats. In doing so, it became clear to me just how strongly the format influences the way one paints and, ultimately, the result. Small works demand greater simplification and concentration, whilst large surfaces offer more scope for movement, gesture and painterly development. This alters not only the composition of the picture but also the impact of the painting itself. In future, I would like to further expand this scope in terms of materials and form; for example, by working on other surfaces such as wood, as well as experimenting with new materials, such as hemp canvas. At the same time, I wish to further deepen my knowledge of art theory and my foundational understanding so that I can contextualise my own decisions more consciously. At the moment, I am particularly interested in Abstract Expressionism, but also in Impressionist painting. Van Gogh has fascinated me for a long time, particularly because of the immediacy and expressiveness of his brushwork.

That is why I am increasingly trying to ensure that the quality of my work does not take a back seat to quantity, that my artistic practice does not become merely a routine, and that I set aside enough time for each of my works. It’s important for my creativity to allow myself some breathing space, where I can work without a specific goal and simply pursue whatever takes my fancy at the moment. Especially after particularly labour-intensive periods, this helps me to gain some perspective, clear my head and approach new work with a fresher mindset. Added to this are the organisational aspects of self-employment, which also take up time and energy. Bureaucratic tasks, planning upcoming projects or even considering a larger studio are currently just as much a part of my daily routine as the actual painting itself.

Is there anything one can learn about you through your work that might not be so easy to convey in conversation? 

I can be very impatient and indecisive, and I often have lots of ideas at the same time. It’s not uncommon for new thoughts to emerge whilst I’m painting, changing the original direction of a picture. That’s why some finished works conceal several earlier stages. Ideas that were initially still underdeveloped or didn’t convince me are discarded, painted over or further developed. However, they do not disappear completely; in oil painting, the various layers of paint overlap, and as traces they remain part of the painting’s history and ultimately influence its surface and overall effect. This can be very emotional; there are therefore also phases of frustration and doubt in which a work is on the verge of being abandoned – which is not to say that there aren’t also a few such ‘artistic corpses’ in my studio. At the same time, I find it particularly interesting when I manage to overcome these difficult phases and the previous states remain palpable in the finished work. Particularly in larger formats, such emotions often become physically visible, as in swift movements, distinct gestures and an immediate brushstroke.

A final insight

Which do you find more dangerous: a work that explains too much, or one that reveals nothing at all? 

For me, it would be more problematic if a work revealed nothing at all. A picture that remains completely closed off and offers no clues whatsoever can quickly strike me as empty or boring. I need something to hold on to – a point of entry, a mood, a gesture or a trace of something recognisable. At the same time, however, I don’t want to explain an image in its entirety. I’m much more interested in the balance between openness and concreteness. It should leave enough room for one’s own associations and interpretations, without becoming arbitrary. Even if a work remains open, it ultimately always carries something of my own reality within it. I project this onto the image, consciously or unconsciously, and for me, that in itself is already a form of statement. 

Which idea, book, TV series or other source of inspiration has most recently captured your attention or excited you, and is something you’d like to recommend to others? 

I’ve recently discovered Chris Carter’s crime thrillers – I can’t recommend them highly enough; some of them you can read through in just a few days. They’re absolutely gripping!