Siesta: In Conversation with Hannah Lüneburg
Ahead of her debut Cyprus exhibition, Siesta, Berlin-based artist Hannah Lüneburg sat down with 125 Space to share her journey, inspirations, and what visitors can expect when the show opens on Friday, September 12.
In this conversation, she speaks candidly about her creative path, the influence of the Mediterranean, and the importance of pause — themes that lie at the heart of Siesta. She also discusses her upcoming artist residency at 125 Space on September 10, during which she will create a live painting to be unveiled at the exhibition opening — a first for Cyprus.
To begin, could you share a little about your journey — from your early background in graphic design to your transition into fine arts? How has this shaped your visual language?
Doing something creative has always been a common thread in my life, from early on. My parents were very supportive, but they also wanted me to choose something that could pay the bills, so graphic design felt like the safest compromise after school. It was the perfect option at that time and shaped my approach to colour and composition, although I didn’t feel the screen was the medium that brought out my best performance. Working a 9–5 in that field also helped me gain financial stability. Still, it was a tough step to leave a secure job and start over, initially to become an arts teacher.
Once university began, the feedback I received from professors and fellow students helped me gain much more confidence. On the other hand, it quickly created tension between my mental health and the pressure to create something meaningful. I often found myself questioning and comparing my work. What really clicked for me was realising that if I wanted painting to become my daily practice, it was not only okay, but necessary to fuel my art and myself with positive energy and joy from the little happy details of life. Shifting my focus and following my intuition gave me so much inspiration and motivation and really shaped how I visually express myself today.
The bridge to what I’m doing now was built during a small exhibition at university, when a gallery owner approached me and asked for my Instagram. At the time I had only posted pencil drawings every few months and photos of our family dog, so I felt a bit unprepared. That moment sparked the idea to share my work online more frequently, to keep my portfolio updated. I never knew it would become such a key step into the art world for me.
Siesta is your first exhibition in Cyprus. What drew you to the Mediterranean and how has its light, rhythm, or atmosphere influenced this body of work?
To me, the Mediterranean holds joy and comfort in so many ways: the warmth, the sound of the sea, the effortless beauty of nature. Whenever I’m there, life just slows down, which feels especially striking when coming from Berlin. The feeling is also deeply connected to family memories, since my grandparents had a little finca on the Andalusian coast where we spent many summer vacations.
The colours feel more intense, and it can become a whole-day activity just to watch the light dancing on palm tree leaves. Even the architecture carries so much personality and playfulness that it’s inevitable for random painting compositions to pop into my head. Right next to the house, there was a crooked staircase leading through the wilderness down to the beach. Climbing down there already felt like a whole adventure. We would collect all the shattered pieces of broken tiles we could find, and it was always a huge celebration whenever there was a nice pattern on the back.
There is so much creative energy that comes from this sense of reset, and I hope to bring that feeling and energy into my work.
Your paintings carry both immediacy and restraint — spontaneous yet composed. How do you navigate this tension between intuition and control in your process?
A painting often begins with a spark of an idea, sometimes just a blurry composition of colour or a small detail I notice on a walk. For example, the idea for the blue tones and nocturnal energy of my work Sorrent came from discovering a tiny flower mosaic embedded in a wall on the way to a beach. It was easily overlooked, but so much thought and care had gone into placing it there.
I sometimes carry ideas for a while, sketching rough compositions before starting the actual work, but I always give myself the freedom to choose colours spontaneously and intuitively. Working with oil sticks and pastels gives me both speed and control, allowing me to fully follow my intuition while maintaining a loose, expressive approach to the motif.
The tension becomes most apparent when I begin balancing the colours to create a harmonious composition. I sometimes compare it to creating your own Sudoku: throwing random numbers on the table, then solving it by finding the exact right counterparts. Deciding the visual weight of a colour, its scale, and its support within the layout requires much more control at the end of the process. Over time, however, I’ve come to experience this balance less as a conscious decision and more as an intuitive part of the work.
You’ve cultivated a distinctive way of working with colour. What role does colour play in your practice, not only as an aesthetic choice but as an emotional and communicative force?
Colour allows me to connect to my work on a much deeper emotional level. It opens up a language that can be immediately felt and understood by the viewer. When I was younger, I practised drawing to demonstrate skill, while colour felt like a distraction, and I wasn’t confident using it. It was only during my graphic design practice that I truly learned about the impact of colour — how it can communicate a mood or message even before the meaning of a piece is fully understood.
Experimenting digitally also helped, since it was quicker and more forgiving. Over time, I became more confident using colour, and it felt natural. Bright hues carry joy and energy, while softer tones bring calm and trust. Staying curious and experimental often leads to unexpected compositions — the same way watermelon and feta cheese somehow make the perfect combination.
On September 10th, you’ll be an artist-in-residence at 125 Space; the artwork to be unveiled during the exhibition opening on September 12th. What excites you most about this residency, and how does it connect to your studio practice?
I have never before created one of my larger paintings in a Mediterranean setting — or outside my studio at all. I’ve always been quite shy about having people see my process before I feel confident in the final piece, so working in this way is both a challenge and something I’ll be proud of. I’m excited to see how the work will take shape spontaneously, and how it may be influenced by the atmosphere of the space or even small interactions and conversations while I’m painting.
In my studio, I usually work in solitude, so this residency feels like an opportunity to open up my practice, invite more immediacy into it, and allow the process itself to become part of the shared experience of the exhibition.
The title Siesta evokes pause, stillness, and softness. What does this concept mean to you personally, and how do you hope audiences will experience it through your work?
Siesta is about allowing space for pause in a world that constantly asks us to move faster. For me personally, it can be difficult to take breaks without feeling like I should be productive — and I think many people share that tension. Both offline and online, the pace of life often makes it hard to slow down.
Siesta celebrates a time during the day when people quietly agree to recharge. My paintings are meant to offer a way of stepping into that atmosphere. I hope viewers can sense that slowing down through my work — that they might experience a quiet moment of ease, like taking a deep breath in the middle of their day.
Looking ahead, how do you envision your practice evolving? Are there new directions or mediums you’re interested in exploring?
This month I’ll be moving into a larger studio, which will allow me to work on several paintings in parallel and create more space between sessions — bringing a slower rhythm into my practice. I also plan to explore layering more colours to enhance the depth of my work.
At some point, I’d love to take my animal paintings into a three-dimensional format, though I haven’t yet figured out how to approach that without needing an extra room entirely. For now, after six months of preparing for the exhibition and renovating my new space, I’m definitely allowing myself a little siesta.
Finally, what does it mean for you to bring this exhibition and to experience your first mini-residency in Cyprus at 125 Space at this moment in your career?
I feel incredibly grateful to exhibit my paintings in such a wonderful location that feels like the perfect fit for my work. So much has happened in the past two years, and this exhibition gives me a chance to take it all in, to reflect and to honour my practice.
It will also be the very first time I see so many of my paintings together, rather than surrounded by the usual artistic chaos of my studio. Until now, most feedback and interaction with my work has happened online, which can sometimes feel distant and abstract. Seeing the pieces thoughtfully presented in this beautiful space, and meeting people who show genuine interest in my work, will be a new and motivating experience.
At this point in my career, it represents both growth and reflection — the perfect chance to step outside my familiar environment, connect with a new community, and see my work in a different light. From the beginning, this collaboration with 125 Space felt instinctively right, and I’m both thankful and curious to see what will grow out of it.
Exhibition Opening
Friday, 12th of September 2025, 18.00 (in the presence of the artist)
Artist residency by Hannah Lüneburg at 125 Space
10th of September from 11am
Exhibition Duration
13th of September – 26th of November 2025