About.

I have been folding paper airplanes for as long as I can remember. Most kids put them down eventually; I never did. There is a small, stubborn magic in the fact that a flat sheet of paper, nothing added and nothing taken away, can leave your hand and fly. That feeling has never worn off, and in one way or another it is behind everything I make.

As a teenager I wanted to understand the magic instead of just chasing it: my Matura thesis was about the physics of paper flight, why a fold in one place buys you a second of hangtime in another. Later the obsession found a stage. I competed four times at Red Bull Paper Wings: second place at the Swiss championship in 2012, 2019, and 2022, and the national title in 2015, which sent me to the World Championship. I have folded planes on Swiss television, on Aeschbacher, and shown them to kids at the Kindermuseum in Baden. But the competitions were never really the point. The point was always that single sheet of paper, and what it can do.

The art grew out of that same question, asked differently. The silhouette never changes. It is always the paper airplane, the one shape I have been folding my whole life. What changes is the material. What happens if I build it out of felt and sunflower seeds? Out of two thousand dice? Out of plaster and brass gears? Felt asks for layering. Sunflower seeds ask for patience. Dice demand precision down to the millimeter. Every piece is the same airplane in a material that shouldn't work, and somehow does.

When one of these hangs on a wall, in a home, a restaurant, a gallery, or a public space, the quiet how is this possible? becomes a small gift to whoever walks past. That is the part I care about most, which is why I am happy to loan pieces for exhibitions free of charge.

If a piece speaks to you, or if you have a wall where one might live well, get in touch. I'd like to hear about it.