Luciana Ame

Alta marea

11 December 2025 - 29 January 2026

  • It begins as a movement at the edge of vision. A line that is almost not there, yet carries a body, a face, a direction. In Alta marea, Luciana Amé lets her figures emerge as if lifted from a rising tide line; hybrids of human and water, of presence and memory.
  • Amé’s black-and-white universe has always lived between simplicity and complexity. Here, that meeting deepens. The lines are clearer, yet the emotions expand. The faces remain open but hold an interior dream. Each figure seems caught within a moment of transformation, as if the tide has just reached them and something essential has shifted.
  • The musicality that has long echoed quietly through Amé’s practice is still present; now more distant, like a rhythm below the surface. These new works move in a soft legato, where each curve and contour becomes both motion and stillness. A point of balance. A breath.
  • Alta marea is also a story of relationships. Between body and sea. Between gaze and memory. Between the lives we live and the ones that pull at us from elsewhere. Luciana’s figures stand alone, yet never isolated; they belong to a shared flow, to a time that moves in both directions at once.
  • There is a sense of purity here, though not the kind that seeks perfection. Rather the kind that appears when the excess falls away. Like tidewater.

Joakim Kocjancic

SOLVARV

19 November - 10 December 2025

  • There are moments when time seems to open, and the world becomes held in a slower kind of light. Solvarv moves within such a moment. A return to the countryside in mid-summer, where days are shaped by the sun’s arc across the sky and life takes on a quieter, more porous rhythm. Here, light is not merely illumination; it is something that settles on the skin, gathers in the grass, flickers across water.
  • The title, Solvarv, refers to the solar cycle, the turning of the year and the return of light. It is also the name of the house and the place where the photographs were made. A point on the map, but also a circle of time, a place one returns to. Days resemble one another, yet are never exactly the same. The photographs hold this subtle tension between what changes and what remains.
  • In the images, we move through forests, lakes, gardens and paths. Children run through sun-drenched fields. Someone bends into tall grass as if listening to the ground. A body stands at the edge of the lake, back turned, hair lifted by wind. A dirt road is patterned with light through pine branches. Nothing is staged. The camera follows what is already happening, close enough for presence to stay intact.
  • Joakim Kocjancic works exclusively with analogue black-and-white photography. Grain, contrast and blur arise from time in the world rather than stylistic intention. The photographs form slowly, through attention, stillness, breath. They carry the memory of touch.
  • Solvarv was made over two summers, in a place without electricity or running water, where the day was structured by light itself. Time expands, loops, disappears. Like the poem taped to the outhouse door, Edith Södergran’s Landet som icke är, the work points toward a place sensed more than spoken.
  • This exhibition does not ask the viewer to decode narrative. It invites a slowing. A remembering of how light once felt, on a similar day, somewhere else.
  • Joakim Kocjancic (born 1975 in Milan) lives and works in Stockholm. He has worked with analogue photography for more than two decades, developing a distinctive visual language grounded in presence, duration and the physical nature of light. His photobook Europea was awarded the Swedish Photo Book Prize in 2021. In 2024 he received first prize in the Gomma Black & White Award, an international photography prize focused on artistic black-and-white work, run by Gomma Books, a publisher known for exclusive, high-quality photobook editions and an artist-driven, non-commercial perspective. Kocjancic has exhibited widely across Europe, both in institutions and independent art spaces, and his work is represented in the collection of Moderna Museet as well as in private collections internationally. His forthcoming book Solvarv will be published by L’Artiere in 2026.

Bill Billekvist

2:01:58,96

22 October - 12 November 2025

  • In 2:01:58,96, Bill Billekvist presents new paintings that explore the rhythm of time and the act of letting go. Created during spring, the works move between stillness and motion, light and structure – a painting practice that breathes, listens, and quietly transforms.
  • Bill Billekvist (born 1992 in Stockholm) lives and works in Oslo. His painting balances control and release; structure and breath. He works with transparent textiles such as ripstop and Voile, allowing color and light to interact with the air and movement of the room.
  • The exhibition 2:01:58,96 marks Billekvist’s first solo exhibition in Stockholm since 2020. It brings together new works created during spring, a time of year when rhythm returns to both body and city, when the world begins to open again and the unexpected feels possible. That motion is preserved within the paintings: a shift between stillness and activity, between what is directed and what simply happens.
  • The title 2:01:58,96 refers to a specific measurement of time, yet it also functions as a poetic idea. For Billekvist, painting is about following time rather than controlling it; letting movement, the body, and the material determine the course. He often paints within these defined intervals, where concentration is complete but the mind remains open.
  • Color moves between front and back through the thin material. Light becomes structure and the canvas seems to breathe. In some works, the stretcher frame appears like a skeleton beneath the surface; in others, the boundaries dissolve.
  • The result is a painting practice that does not seek a motif or a narrative, but a state – an ongoing motion, as much body as image.
  • There is a tenderness in his approach: an attentiveness to rhythm, coincidence, and the everyday. In 2:01:58,96, precision meets uncertainty; control meets trust. The paintings are quiet intervals in time, an attempt to hold on to something already in transformation.
  • Bill Billekvist Born 1992 in Stockholm Lives and works in Oslo Graduated from the Oslo Academy of Fine Arts in 2022 Previous exhibitions include Podium, Kösk, Hos Arne, and Coulisse Gallery

Florine Imo

She Ate

17 September – 9 October 2025

  • The Pegaslut series takes its origin from one of mythology’s most misunderstood stories: when Medusa was punished and transformed into a monster after being violated, her power was twisted into a cursed gaze. From her beheaded body Pegasus was born: a divine, untouchable symbol of freedom and femininity.
  • Pegaslut is a self-mythologizing universe that embodies everything it critiques: the weaponization of beauty, the commodification of female bodies, unattainable ideals of perfection, and the structures that conspire to keep women small, silent, and controlled. It is where ancient symbols of power are reclaimed, distorted, and reimagined with unapologetic force.
  • She Ate exists in this tension. The title borrows from internet slang, where “she ate” means she devoured, she owned, she performed beyond expectation. But here, it becomes more than a phrase — it is an act of reclamation. Medusa, once feared and silenced, now returns the gaze. The female gaze replaces the male. What was once a narrative of shame becomes one of power, hunger, and uncompromising self-mythologizing.
  • Pegaslut is both dream and monster. She is divine, untamable, and hyper-charged — a reflection of a culture obsessed with owning women while simultaneously consuming them. But instead of being consumed, she eats.

Lena Cronqvist, Evelina Hägglund, and Linn Fernström

Out of Body

21 August – 11 September

  • Out of Body explores the fragile space where memory meets dream and the body becomes a threshold rather than a boundary. Bringing together Lena Cronqvist, Evelina Hägglund, and Linn Fernström, the exhibition invites us into an inner landscape where presence and absence, control and surrender coexist.
  • Out of Body explores the shifting in-between – that fragile space where memory meets dream, and the familiar quietly reshapes into something new. It is a place where the body no longer holds all the weight of experience, where perception slips beyond its usual borders, and where we begin to sense ourselves from another vantage point.
  • This is not an escape, but a shift – a passage into another sphere where control and surrender coexist, where presence and absence weave together, and where the boundaries between inner and outer blur. In this state, time moves differently, gestures carry echoes, and the world feels both closer and more distant at once.
  • The exhibition brings together three Swedish women artists – Lena Cronqvist, Evelina Hägglund, and Linn Fernström – distinct voices across generations, yet united in their search for what lies beyond the visible. Their practices trace the delicate line between the tangible and the elusive: the body as vessel and threshold, memory as both wound and mirror, the dream as a site of revelation.
  • Together, their works open a psychological topography – a landscape without fixed coordinates, yet one that every viewer recognizes when they stand within it. Out of Body invites us into this in-between: a space of presence and echo, where the self dissolves, reforms, and returns altered.

Johan Barrett

HORSES and DIVORCES

3 July - 12 August

  • In her autobiographical essay “Good to All That,” the inimitable Joan Didion wrote apropos of divorce: “We are here on this island in the middle of the Pacific in lieu of filing for divorce.” Her words here appear to underline the self-preserving avoidance of divorce due to its often great stakes and complexities for the individuals. Didion’s words constitute the tragicomic gist of copping out by being on vacation from divorce, taking a break from the inevitable, and the mundane reality being in temporary suspension mode. Meanwhile, in Patti Smith’s monumental song “Land: Horses/Land of a Thousand Dances/La Mer (De),” in Part 1: Horses, “the boy” looks at “Johnny” and “Johnny” wants to run, but the movie keeps moving just as planned. For the concept album to which the song belongs, Patti Smith uses the imagery of horses as a metaphor for freedom and liberation, both personally as well as artistically in NYC's rock ‘n’ roll scene of the time.
  • The title of Johan Barrett’s exhibition “HORSES and DIVORCES” frames two oxymoronic words constituting, for him, a personal end and a subsequent new beginning. His recent paintings of motifs which exude escapism, wanderlust and states of frolic, and bodies at evident ease, represent navigating his way through to the other side of a tunnel of the personal collapse of an everyday life that had come to be his and the dark, suffocating clouds of depression. Speaking of finding new love, the love of his life and falling madly in love again over a summer in Stockholm, the artist tells me about, while in even such a state, finding it difficult to anchor in the there and then. Instead, he found allure in the potentialities of a carnivalesque future between the enamored: where to travel, what to see, and such things only yet to happen and materialize. He tells me how the lovers themselves joked about the inability to just indulge in the actual moment of the now. The painted motifs in the exhibition are juxtaposed with sculptures of cigarette smoking: hands holding cigarettes.
  • I generally don’t smoke, but I think of when I’ve enjoyed it. That is in certain very urban and metropolitan cities where I actually love my self-image while doing so, where it amplifies my leisurely state of mind and adds to my cool. The vice of smoking is one that some people juggle almost like breakups. You want to break with it, but you also don’t, and sometimes you just seem to be unable to. You might, at the behest of others—maybe your loved ones, maybe your children—prompt the stop. But there’s something “fuck it, I’m going to live my life” about it, when you choose to do so, that instantly comes to mind with this exhibition in more ways than one.
  • Ashik Zaman

Jarl Ingvarsson

The Pigeon and the Plectrum

June 4 - June 28

  • There are moments when the world becomes so thin that color almost passes right through it. In The Pigeon and the Plectrum, Jarl Ingvarsson moves within such a state – a space in between, where everyday objects, painterly gestures, and life’s most enigmatic moments share the same canvas. A kind of presence that may also feel like absence.
  • The title – the pigeon and the plectrum – carries both playfulness and intensity. It evokes a fairytale, or perhaps a song, and maybe that’s exactly what it is: a story in paint, driven by memory, vision, rhythm, and chance. Flowers, oranges, and churches appear alongside lines that cut through layers of pigment like sediment. Painting becomes a language that doesn’t speak – it breathes, it blinks, it calls out and recedes.
  • Jarl Ingvarsson has been called a painter’s painter. His expression is direct, but never simple. Few have stretched the threads of tradition as far as he has without letting them snap. He paints with a gaze constantly seeking new horizons, and a hand that never quite closes – always ready to catch a moment and transform it into something entirely its own.
  • These works were created during a time of change. And yet – between the pigeon and the plectrum, between weight and lightness, between paradise and nothingness – we are met by something that is not bound by time or place. It is a space where painting, like life itself, may hold contradictions while offering a certain stillness.

Axel Versteegh

Tunica Mucosa

May 7 - May 28, 2025

  • What is it we carry inside? What moves between our membranes, behind our surfaces, in layers we never see?
  • In Tunica Mucosa, Axel Versteegh turns his gaze inward—toward the bodily, the organic, the invisible yet present. The paintings seem unwilling to depict, instead aiming to register a state. A vulnerable, moist, living state. There are traces of the body here—not in the form of portraiture, but rather as resonance: in rhythms, flows, and deposits. A painting may begin in something as soft as a jelly heart, but quickly find its form. Versteegh’s work is an ongoing dissolution—a movement from the recognizable to the fleeting, from symbol to substance. What is visible is not always what carries the meaning. Like the mucous membrane—tunica mucosa—the paintings are both boundary and passage, protection and permeability. They are neither fully closed nor entirely open. They leak. Color is body. The line is a trace. The surface carries the memory of what has been, but makes no promise of permanence. Everything can be covered, reversed, painted over. This is painting that refuses to be fixed, that doubts, smudges, erases. And like something deeply human, it tries to understand what it means to exist, right in the midst of the flesh.
  • Versteegh’s painting places itself in a tradition of corporeally informed painting—where Anselm Kiefer’s earthy counterworlds, Per Kirkeby’s geological memory layers, and Gerhard Richter’s poetic destructions interact. There is also a kinship with postminimalism’s material intimacy, as well as with more recent figurative-gestural abstraction, shaped by experience. This is painting not in search of meaning—but rather, inviting us to feel.