Contemporary conceptual artist Sali Muller produces multimedia works which not only explore light and its impact on the objects, installations, and sculptures she creates, but also as a soul mirror that reflects her own spirituality as well as social matters that highlight individual and collective experiences and relationships. The material becomes the mean, the gate, the possibility to bring out “a mystical vision into the physical world,” as she says. Sali studied at the University Marc Bloch in Strasbourg, France, obtaining her masters degree in Visual Arts. Her work was shown in group exhibitions such as the Regionale at the Kunsthaus Baselland in Basel, Switzerland, and the Ostrale Biennale in Germany. She staged her first museum exhibition at the IKOB Museum of Contemporary Art in Belgium, followed by the Kallmann Museum in Munich, Germany, the MAC Museo d‘Arte Contemporanea di Lissone in Italy, the Kunstmuseum Gelsenkirchen in Germany, the Times Art Museum in Beijing, China, the Kunst Raum Riehen in Basel-Stadt, the Kunstmuseum Heidenheim in Germany, Art Quarter Budapest in Hungary, and the Centre d’art Les Eglises in France. She lives and works in Luxembourg.
María Carolina Baulo: How would you define your practice, which uses a conceptual approach that highlights the multiple meanings of light? What about the materials you use to emphasize this search?
Sali Muller: I am creating a reflective multiverse that dives deep into the exploration of self-image through the combination of shiny materials. While exploring unordinary ways to show co-existence with human identity and vanity, and complex concepts such as relationships between the individual and society, I am trying to bring a mystical vision into the physical world using mirrors, light, found objects, and nature-inspired photography. The exhibition spaces are marked with light-reflecting installations, dazzling objects, and projections. My visual “comments” become a reflection of a time where delusions increasingly play a significant role. I always related to architecture, and I am fascinated by uncommon geometrical shapes and objects. Those experiences paved my way into concept art, “refracting” my artworks, breaking or fragmenting them. My works invite viewers into a reflective universe where mirrors and light create fluid landscapes that project her vision onto the environment.
MCB: How do you compromise your own personal experience in your works, and what other matters impact your creativity?
SM: I faced my own fragility and transformed outlook on the world following illness and the birth of my daughter. I started questioning my own existence and how different factors can affect our emotional lives. At that time, I was happy that I was still able to see myself in a mirror, and I think that was the point that made me use mirrors and other reflective materials for doing my future artworks. My works are minimalist and use visual metaphors to evoke deeper meanings. In my works, I am exploring currently relevant issues and the view of human identity shaped by social norms and expectations. Through the reflections in my works, I am depicting the process of self-reflection that is crucial to the construction of identity. My works encourage us to reflect and reconsider our self-perception and our place in the world, reminding us that the formation of our identity is an ongoing process that requires constant reflection and adaptation. Each encounter with my work is a journey of introspection and discovery. My installations are more than just visual spectacles; they are profound meditations on identity, existence, and the ever-changing nature of reality.
Photo: Sylvain Baumann
MCB: What about the importance of the concept of time in your works? It’s interesting how to propose a reflection on art history by establishing dialogue than bond past-present-future…
SM: My artistic creations are characterized by manipulating time, space, and perception. They transform the exhibition scene into a rendezvous between different times, space, and realities. From this perspective, the artwork becomes a space-time intermediary that connects the past, the present, and the future, allowing the audience to travel through time. Through these liquid landscapes that are projecting her gaze onto the environment, emerge ultra-contemporary scenarios, blending time and space to generate a sense of disorientation that leads us into another realm, a futuristic world. I am navigating between moments of premature clarity and unexplained sequences, crafting a narrative that oscillates between the finite and the infinite. This dynamic allows me to reinterpret classic allegorical images from European art history, presenting them within a fractured contemporary context. I am making use of these meaningful, art-historical concepts without burdening us with their content. My work exudes an inherent lightness, despite its complex themes. Reflecting lights and shimmering colors, as well as the interactions triggered by the viewer’s movements, create a harmonious and immersive experience. I am combining conceptual sculptural techniques with a series of intricate themes that are important for my entire creational process. Through this approach, I expand the boundaries of traditional art forms, paving the way for a new style: ultra-contemporary art.
MCB: A very straightforward message emerges from I am running and consuming energy for nothing (2016), a light installation you presented at the Kunsthaus Baselland, Switzerland. The title becomes the piece itself. Tell us about this work.
SM: A light object is hanging from the ceiling, a two-meter-long, brightly shining LED ticker. A sentence is repeated in a loop: “I Am Running and Consuming Energy for Nothing …” The flickering letters are reminiscent of advertising slogans in various parts of our urban landscapes. With rapid speed and a (mostly extremely banal) message in their luggage, they force their way into the city strollers. In this installation, the material becomes the program of an intended socially critical question: the electricity-guzzling light bar refers to an endless and wasteful use of resources and at the same time reminds us —enigmatic and poetic—of a more energy-conscious life and a differently timed rhythm that should be adopted.
MCB: Der Moment in dem sich alles dreht (2019), an installation at the Times Art Museum Beijing, China, uses light to play mind games with the audience. How do you relate the aesthetics of your works, the materiality, with the idea of creating psychological tricks? Color for sure must have a leading role in this matter.
SM: In a regularly circular movement, several dichroic mirror surfaces move and create a hypnotizing effect. The multipart cybernetic sculpture activates the space and the entire motor activity or movements within. It allows me to transform the entire exhibition space into an ever-changing space of reflections, thus giving the audience an aesthetic and physical experience that goes beyond self-contemplation. Not only are the objects in motion, but also the thoughts of the viewer. The superimpositions and illusions created by the dichroic panels, which exhibit an iridescent, shifting effect due to the way they reflect and transmit light, seduce the audience by attracting them behind the enigmatic surfaces and confront it with self-reflection and the unconscious and hidden interior. The dichroic mirrors shift as light hits them from various angles, producing an almost magical, ever-changing display of hues. They create vibrant and surreal shifts in perception, symbolizing transformation, reflecting how perspectives shift depending on angles of approach—both literally and metaphorically.
MCB: With Happiness is as brittle as glass (2019), presented at the Ostrale Biennale in Germany, you represent the fragility of emotions and the ephemeral side of the concept of happiness. It’s interesting to see how super-direct information, not cryptic or complex—something contemporary art uses a lot—can capture the spectator’s attention because of the beauty of the work and the hypnotizing effect of light. As mentioned previously, your aesthetic choices reinforce the spectator’s participation and pause before the works.
SM: Is happiness a constant state we should strive for? At the end of the rainbow lies happiness. Rainbows can motivate us to continue and endure through dark times, they provide us with hope. The rainbow is one of the most recognizable and romanticized symbols and appears time and time again in art, mythology, legends, and literature. However, this rainbow is not what it seems. Upon closer inspection, it is clear to the viewer that the rainbow is cracked. On the floor, fallen parts continue to glow. The inherent romance of the rainbow finds itself shattered by the destruction of the neon tubes. The illusion is broken. Perhaps what has been shattered is an idealized version of happiness or the illusion of happiness as something we can sustain? Happiness is not a constant state but an evolving journey. Emotional well-being requires balance. Happiness doesn’t mean the absence of negative emotions like sadness or stress; a balanced emotional life includes moments of struggle. As happiness is something personal, defined by values, desires, and experiences, everyone will perceive and react differently to the circumstances.
MCB: Wenn die Sterne vom Himmel fallen (2020) follows the same idea of Happiness is as brittle as glass. How do you express it in this work?
SM: Diving into the night sky, full of shooting stars, while dreaming up wishes is the idea of a happy moment for many people. Since the dawn of time, humanity has dreamed of diving into and exploring the infinity of the universe. The artwork is just such an invitation: abandon the usual perception of reality and immerse yourself in the idea behind it. Screens are hanging from the ceiling, some touch the ground, others are on their way down. On the screens you see videos with a digitally generated star formation. The stars twinkle, appear, and disappear again. Falling stars can be seen as a symbol of hope. People make wishes when they see a shooting star, believing that its brief and bright appearance is magical, capable of granting desires. In contrast to these happier interpretations, “When the stars fall from heaven” is a biblical expression often used in times of war and pandemics. Celestial bodies represent stability and order in the universe, falling stars evoke a sense of cosmic drama, where the heavens interact with the earth in a dramatic way. Stars falling from heaven can also symbolize a massive change or significant transformation. Just as stars seem eternal but eventually fade or fall, so too do human lives and achievements; they remind us of our mortality and the impermanence of all things. Stars falling from heaven can signify both destruction and creation, endings and new beginnings.
MCB: In the video installation Wolkenbilder (2020) at the Centre d’Art Dominique Lang, Luxembourg, you reference art history (Magritte), change the perspective we usually adopt, and create open windows in the floor. What is the idea behind this inversion of perception?
SM: Clouds, with their ever-changing forms and fleeting existence, remind us of the transient nature of life. Just as clouds form and dissipate, the nature of human emotions shifts and the unpredictable moments in our existence are fleeting. The clouds drifting across the sky, symbolizing memories and the passage of time, evoke a sense of nostalgia, as they remind us of moments that have passed and can never be recaptured. The Wolkenbilder cloud formations, that are still real on the outside, now seem surreal on the inside in repetitive and never-ending movements. The new cloud images transform the room into a magical, sensual projection landscape. They are reminiscent of the master of illusion René Magritte, whose work focuses on the perception of reality and attempts to reveal the invisible through seeing and thinking: to see things differently. In this way, our gaze is directed behind the light-reflecting surfaces and motifs. With the multipart media floor installation, general viewing habits are suspended. There is a change of perspective from above and below, in which not only the spatial situation is renegotiated. The mirror image in the familiar reflective surface disappears behind the clouds. At the same time, the floor opens up and connects the here and now with the imagination behind it.
MCB: Inside (2020), shown at the Espace d’Art Susanne Savary, Thionville, France, seems to be a more complex installation, with several objects and sculptures, lots of space for the viewer to move around, and less presence of light. Nevertheless, mirrors are everywhere.
SM: When you look inside you, what do you see? In this state of reflection, you allow your thoughts to arise naturally. Memories, ideas, and emotions come forward, like waves gently lapping at the shore. Some are fleeting, while others linger, asking for your attention. You observe them with curiosity and compassion, recognizing them as parts of yourself that have their own place and meaning. You might revisit past experiences, considering them with the wisdom you’ve gained over time. Or perhaps you explore your current emotions, seeking to understand their roots and what they’re trying to tell you. As you reflect, you may encounter both light and shadow within yourself, the joys and the sorrows, the strengths and the vulnerabilities. In this reflective state, you might find a sense of deeper purpose or direction, as you continue to reflect and grow. The objects, cut into parts with their inner covered by mirrors, show us a way to stay connected to ourselves in a world that often pulls us outward. Mirrors have been of great cultural and art historical significance for centuries: from self-contemplation, the image of the soul, to the motif of transience or the transitions of real worlds into magical parallel universes. Mirrors allow me a variety of imaginary reflections; they can reveal hidden realities. They represent the duality of light and shadow, conscious and unconscious, truth and illusion, inner and outer worlds. They invite us to look not only at the surface but to peer deeper into the reflections of our own inner worlds, revealing the many layers of who we are and what we see.
MCB: In your own words, Waking up on a foggy day (2021), Chengdu Times Art Museum, Chengdu, China, “transforms your surroundings into a dreamscape, where the familiar becomes new again, and every step into the mist feels like entering another world.” How do you accomplish this? How do you intend to move the viewer?
SM: The world seems hushed, wrapped in a blanket of fog that muffles sound and blurs the edges of reality. The air feels cool and damp, and there’s a slight chill that lingers in the exhibition space, reminding the viewer that the sun has yet to break through. The usual view is transformed, lights are emerging and retreating as the fog shifts and swirls. The horizon is lost in a sea of color, giving the impression that the world has shrunk, confined to the immediate space around you. Everything seems to move more slowly on a foggy day. The fog creates a sense of stillness, as if time itself has paused. The soft, muted light invites introspection, a chance for the visitor to slow down and savor the quietness while wandering through the exhibition scene. The light installation creates an atmosphere of mystery and wonder, where the ordinary becomes extraordinary. Waking up on a foggy day transforms your surroundings into a dreamscape, where the familiar becomes new again and every step into the mist feels like entering another world.
MCB: We talked about time, emotion, materials. Probably Plage de temps (2023) is the perfect example to approach space. Tell us about the usage of space in your installations in general and in this immersive work in particular. Here you apply most of your well-known resources, interacting with uncommon places to host contemporary art. And precisely because of that, the contrast generates an “out-of-this-world” experience.
SM: Some of my works are specially designed for the public realm and relate to the architecture and history of the buildings and surroundings. The strength of site-specific installations is the dialogue with the space, open to social, political, and cultural critique, and the people, giving them an aesthetic and physical experience, that encourages the audience to find new meaningful connections (and induce further reflection) upon concerns of our ultra-contemporary life. In Plage de temps, exhibited at the Centre d’Art les Eglises in France, an ancient church transformed into a center for contemporary art, time itself, through the image and the symbol, becomes the object and projects its reflection around identity in a more universal dimension. I am confronting the visitors with seemingly abandoned heaps of sand pushed by the wind into the exhibition space. In its unspectacular and primary form, it is reminiscent of construction sites and raw material used in the production of glass and not necessarily and immediately recognizable as part of an hourglass at a standstill. Placed on the sand, an enormous sphere of light represents the sun during the day and the moon at night, diffusing within the space a changing light. Between space odyssey and child’s play, between enigma and meditation, I am still playing with ambiguity to create a space of reflection, and I invite the spectators to wander on this sand and, why not, to manipulate it and play with it.
MCB: Finally, Villa carbon dioxide (2024) placed in a private garden, out in the open, highlights the importance of the increased concentration of greenhouse gases in the atmosphere. While talking about this piece, tell us the difference of placing artworks outside and with which kind of spaces you feel more connected.
SM: Burning fossil fuels, deforestation, and industrial processes have increased the concentration of greenhouse gases in the atmosphere. This has enhanced the natural greenhouse effect, leading to more heat being trapped and an overall warming of the Earth’s climate. Global temperatures have risen significantly, affecting ecosystems, sea levels, and ice cover. Changes in climate and environmental conditions can disrupt habitats, leading to shifts in species distribution, affecting biodiversity, impacting human health through increased heat-related illnesses, changes in disease patterns, and impacts on food and water supply. Villa carbon dioxide, filled with cellophane, is reimagining and restructuring existing systems to create a more sustainable and thriving future for all by exploring habitat construction, life support systems, and potentially colonizing other planets. Cellophane has a delicate, fragile nature; combined with light, it symbolizes vulnerability and transparency. Placed in a private garden, the cellophane and the sunlight create a fascinating interplay, resulting in captivating visual effects. In daylight, crumpled layers of cellophane catch the sunlight and create prismatic effects, reflecting different colors and refracting the light beams. The right spot for Villa carbon dioxide is outdoors, as the meteorological conditions can deepen the visual experience, giving it a three-dimensional quality, as if the light itself becomes a tangible part of the artwork or environment. This results in a shimmering or rainbow-like effect, where various hues emerge depending on the angle of light and the viewer’s position.
MCB: Tell us about your future investigations, considering your latest projects such as the solo show at the Macadam Gallery in Brussels and the participations at the MiK Museum im Kulturspeicher Würzburg Germany and the Trapholt Museum in Denmark.
SM: “FEEL ME,” at the Trapholt Museum in Denmark, is the largest international exhibition at Trapholt to date. The exhibition features 28 world-renowned artists from Denmark and abroad, such as Studio DRIFT, Jeppe Hein, Bill Viola, Liz West, Daniel Wurtzel, and Cecilie Waagner Falkenstrøm. Through art, the exhibition explores emotion in an age marked by accelerating development in all areas. The exhibition covers more than 1,000 square meters at Trapholt and takes the audience on a sensory and bodily journey into the realm of emotions. MiK and MKK Museum für Konkrete Kunst have invited 24 artists from Germany and abroad who were born from 1980 onward to provide detailed information about their relationship to Concrete Art. Around the same age as van Doesburg and other important pioneers of the movement in 1924, they seem especially well suited to report on the status of the art movement and to look toward its future. The works shown demonstrate that principles more than a century old have remained topical and adaptable.
The solo show entitled “Looks like you’ve reached the end” at Macadam Gallery will be a look back on my past years’ investigation, with a bunch of new works. After my space odyssey the exhibition concept will be focused on our future present, what will come, and how to reset and restart again.
