DIALOGUES WITH THE UNKNOWN
Berlin, October 2025
What would you say to an extraterrestrial being that has just landed on Earth? Looking straight to the unknown, that’s the premise of Paintings Made for Aliens Above, HORTENSIA MI KAFCHIN’s second solo exhibition at the P·P·O·W gallery in New York City. The Romanian-born, Berlin-based artist, whose work is influenced by her perpetual coexistence with technology, expresses the concept of showcasing our reality to aliens through a series of oil-painted scenes that mix complex human feelings with utopia. Kafchin’s classical painting techniques and use of colour are striking, and so is her ability to provoke reflection on modernity, tradition, and the current socio-political climate. For Shadowplay, she speaks on familial references, Artificial Intelligence in art, and what to do during a creative crisis.
Left Cosmic scale dysphoria, 2025, Courtesy of Hortensia Mi Kafchin and P·P·O·W, New York, Pictures JSP Art Photography
Right In Full A.I. Revolution-After FFS, detail, 2024-25, Courtesy of Hortensia Mi Kafchin and P·P·O·W, New York, Pictures JSP Art Photography
Hi Hortensia! I wanted to start with your upbringing. Your parents were a school teacher and a sound engineer. How did that impact your interest in art?
It’s a pleasure! So, my mother doesn’t teach anymore, but she taught kids between first and fourth grade. My father, who unfortunately died, was a sound engineer - a very good engineer when it comes to electronics. I remember myself doodling and drawing [when I was a child], which was very natural for most kids. But, because my father had a studio where he repaired electronics, many of his friends who were artists were always there, and the wife of one of them was my first beloved art teacher. During communist times, in Romania, we had those ‘children palaces,’ where kids would go and study things like poetry, literature, engineering, drawing, and painting. My parents just put me there, on that big table, and I remember being three years old with kids of all ages, just doodling, which lasted for all of my childhood. Nobody told me you should, you are, or you will be an artist. That said, I lived in an environment, in Galați, where there were a lot of artists, actors, and writers. But all locally, nothing pretentious.
Were your parents always supportive of whatever you wanted to do?
Unconditionally, yes.
Left Ethereal me, detail, 2025, Courtesy of Hortensia Mi Kafchin and P·P·O·W, New York, Pictures JSP Art Photography
Right Exhibition view, Courtesy of Hortensia Mi Kafchin and P·P·O·W, New York, Pictures JSP Art Photography
Talk us through your artistic journey, from when you started making art professionally to the present day.
I mean, I've been selling art since I was a kid, since forever. I know how to make a religious painting that is beautiful and sellable, a sculpture, a chair, something like carpeting, and woodwork. But I really started to open my eyes and refine myself when I entered this community, The Paintbrush Factory, in Cluj-Napoca. I was there between 2009 and 2017. It was a community of artists and [independent] galleries from Romania, like Plan B Gallery, Adrian Ghenie, and Ciprian Mureșan. They were the first Romanian artists to be known internationally. Back then, I had just finished university, and had a business of metal craft and interior design, because I needed to make money. Then I discovered those very special people, I found out more about curators and gallerists, and started to assimilate the history of contemporary art. I was somehow stuck in the 19th century, in a very romantic way [before joining The Paintbrush Factory]. Being there didn’t change me necessarily; it didn’t change who I am, my passions or my essence. But sometimes, when you meet people, you borrow from them, you ‘upgrade’ yourself.
Paintings Made for Aliens Above is your second solo exhibition at the P·P·O·W gallery in New York. How has your practice evolved from when you had your first showcase there to now?
I feel an evolution, but I also live in the dream of the artist who is never satisfied with anything. The cliché, I am that person. But what I observe on Instagram or even before, in the history of art, is that somehow the United States is very sharp in art, subject-wise, and technically speaking, they are so well trained, they are really good. In Europe, I had this illusion that everything became conceptual at some point, but I could see that the US has very good paintings, which humbled me. I’m humble now, and I will remain humble, but I did my first show [in New York] with this European air, with my things from Berlin, and of course, I am passionate about technique, history of art, layers, Northern Renaissance, etc., but there is a freshness in the US. I enjoyed my first show; I was happy, but I think that this aspect pushed me to be more focused and to upgrade myself even more. I think it’s clearly an evolution because of the energy of it all. This show for P·P·O·W is one of my favourites that I’ve ever done.
Exhibition view, Courtesy of Hortensia Mi Kafchin and P·P·O·W, New York, Pictures JSP Art Photography
Can you tell us more about the exhibition as a whole?
All of my work and everything that I do has a journal character to it. [The exhibition] is a conjunction between journaling, my contributions, revelations, and feelings. Everything is under an ‘ego umbrella,’ the ego of representing things well, and constantly comparing myself to history and to my colleagues around the world. So, it’s also about the thrill of, let’s say, a bit of competition, when you see something that you want to do, to maybe do it better, in your own way. All of this work represents my perspective and my views on the world, on how I would explain those things to aliens. I have this fantasy to talk to an astral being, an alien, someone from outside our world, but who is reasonable and kind. I presume that, if they have a safe civilisation, spaceships, and technology, it’s logical that they also have art and aesthetics, which are part of everything. Some of my themes also gravitate around immortality, the fear of death, and around transitioning, but transitioning in a more philosophical way. This show is about my great themes, our [human] themes, our fears and perspectives. In the end, a painting does not have to be stronger than its subject. So, it’s about finding this balance between the subject and the painting, because many times the subject kills the painting. This is the first show where I used my ideas more as a written starting point to then feel the painting, to feel my thoughts. It’s like a dialogue, a long book.
There is also a zine along with the exhibition. Does it complement the paintings?
Totally. To be honest, the zine had everything to do with the exhibition’s idea. P·P·O·W loved the work so much that they proposed that I make a zine, and I was super happy.
Left Feeling space with all five senses, detail, 2025, Courtesy of Hortensia Mi Kafchin and P·P·O·W, New York, Pictures JSP Art Photography
Right Flowers from Earth-First Contact, 2024-25, Courtesy of Hortensia Mi Kafchin and P·P·O·W, New York, Pictures JSP Art Photography
Technology plays a significant role in your work. Where do you think this interest in tech and the futuristic subjects comes from, and why is it important to incorporate that in what you create?
This is my favourite question. I remember opening my eyes in a two-bedroom flat where my father used to repair TVs and video equipment – he had all kinds of different studios – and putting my hands on those electronic parts. My parents also had a very big library of sci-fi and stories from all over the world; my father was very passionate about [Isaac] Asimov and many others, and I think I assimilated that naturally. Because my father was repairing things nonstop, as a kid, I had this idea that if I died, my parents would rebuild me. [Laughs] And, of course, I watched a lot of sci-fi movies and absorbed the Western culture. I was born in 1986, and the communist party fell in the ‘90s, so after that, we had an explosion of subcultures. Ninja Turtles, Captain Planet, Hanna-Barbera [productions], Cartoon Network, Nickelodeon, MTV. My parents were also happy with the possibility of living in a democracy, so my father would also bring me Legos, robots, video games, and Coca-Cola. I was raised with all of that, but in an old world. My mother gave me books about fairy tales, and my father told me about the constellations and the stars when we were lying in the countryside.
It’s like you grew up in this sort of combination of past, tradition, and modernity and futurism…
And it was a unique moment, because nowadays everyone is fatigued from technology and globalisation, but back then, there was a contrast. My father was fascinated by Russian sci-fi, and all of the stories that he told me were about spaceships, AI in space, AI going rogue. It was incredible. I was trained to love technology and, in a way, especially now that my father died, I feel like technology is my father and storytelling, kindness, and light represent my mother. Technology, to me, is more than a tool or a fantasy; it’s really emotional. My biggest wish is to become immortal and to change my body through transhumanism. [Laughs]
Left Exhibition view, Courtesy of Hortensia Mi Kafchin and P·P·O·W, New York, Pictures JSP Art Photography
Right In Full A.I. Revolution-After FFS, detail, 2024-25, Courtesy of Hortensia Mi Kafchin and P·P·O·W, New York, Pictures JSP Art Photography
Artificial Intelligence is one of the biggest conversation starters in the creative industries nowadays. As someone who isn’t scared of looking to the future with your creations, do you experiment with AI in your practice? How do you see it in art?
I don’t experiment with AI at all, and, to me, it has no logic. I’m not afraid of AI, and I’m happy it exists. You know why? I’m not good at predictions, but I think that historians and the general public will separate art into two different periods, before and after AI. [When creating] I imagine myself having these dialogues with the history of art, with Roman frescoes, with many people from the Renaissance and the pre-Renaissance, and I think that if I keep it that way, I will keep my job. AI is developed by engineers, but it’s not really exact, and the AI bubble is about to burst. All of those who invested so much money in AI invested in an illusion. I am counting on AI not in the arts and creativity, but in medicine, programming, and material resistance. I find it unfair when I see painters on Instagram who copy AI-generated content, but at the same time, we as artists don’t have to compete with each other - the real competition is about how much we are aligned with ourselves. About how much we can express what is inside of us by using language, the history of art, and painting language, in my case. No matter how developed AI is or not, at the end of the day, we have to search within ourselves; there is the answer. Dreams, déjà vu, when we miss someone, when we suffer, when we grieve because of somebody – those things are more inspiring.
You were never afraid of incorporating religion in your art, especially previously in your career. Does religion play a part in this series, too?
I really believe in God. And I always thought that I would stop believing in it if someone dear to me died, for example. I thought I would become more pragmatic. But after my father died, I believe in God even more. I have this constant dialogue, where God is like an invisible friend; it’s a continuous presence. I don’t really know what I am, and we don’t know what we are, what our nature is as humans and where we come from, if there is a destiny or not, all those things. My art, especially postmodern art, is a dialogue with the unknown. In my case, this show is a dialogue with the unknown, with aliens, with God, someone unknown to me.
Left Duty to fix oneself, detail, 2025, Courtesy of Hortensia Mi Kafchin and P·P·O·W, New York, Pictures JSP Art Photography
Right Feeling space with all five senses, 2025, Courtesy of Hortensia Mi Kafchin and P·P·O·W, New York, Pictures JSP Art Photography
How do you explore your own experience of being a trans woman within your work?
I try not to make my art 100% about it, because I’ve already, let’s say, infested my life with this. My transition is very personal, and because I disconnected it from the political side, I’m on my own, and I do things on my own. For example, when I started the process, I was really masculine; I had no hair. And I had to wait all of those years to do my facial feminisation, to grow hair, and shave my body. In the end, my transition is quite personal, and even though I am talking about it in art, I think art is a free zone; it’s an alchemy. It’s my duty to be delirious, to explore all genders.
What do you do to reset your mind when you feel like you are struggling creatively?
Because I’ve been doing art since I was a kid, I learned about art competitions from third grade, and later during university, I had to earn money, make art and shows, I learned that when I have a creative crisis, I have to work even more. Many times, you just have a small success, you don’t have to move mountains, to make history or to impress everybody, but you just need a small victory in your studio. You have to be happy that you may have created a beautiful atmosphere, that you came up with a good idea, or that you wrote some good lines. In a strange way, sometimes we are the most inspired when we have this illusion that we are not, when we push ourselves and enjoy that bad day. Especially nowadays, when I have to deal with thousands of deadlines, if I have a bad day, I just go on, as if I were having a good day. I listen to music, I watch something, I try to read something, I smoke, and I work.
Exhibition view, Courtesy of Hortensia Mi Kafchin and P·P·O·W, New York, Pictures JSP Art Photography
What is your future looking like after the exhibition in New York?
I was invited by Hendrik Folkerts, the Head of Exhibitions and curator at Moderna Museet in Stockholm, to exhibit my work as part of a group show. It’s a very big art show. And I’m also invited to be part of other smaller projects. My plan is to work for a while in New York and to throw myself into the scene there, to continue my art and my transition, which is something personal. I love living in the shadows. I want to become a good shadow that contributes to society and makes beautiful art. [Laughs] And I am hoping with all my heart that the world conflicts will slow down a bit.
Paintings Made for Aliens Above, an exhibition by Hortensia Mi Kafchin, will be on at P·P·O·W gallery in New York City, from October 31st to December 20th, 2025.
Interview by Ketlyn Araujo