#24 art talk – Armin Rohr

On the exhibition by Armin Rohr

The Städtische Galerie Neunkirchen sets the stage for Armin Rohr (*1961). He is showing new, enigmatic visual worlds in a comprehensive solo exhibition with the title ‘Despite all futility, I continue to sing my song. On anomalies, coincidences and probabilities.’ from 14 March to 18 May 2025.

The focus is on the human figure, which he places in an ambiguous or difficult to interpret relationship to its surroundings. Captured in drawings and often varied in sketches, figures appear as if posing for mobile phone photos in bizarre or banal everyday, holiday and family scenes. In his new portrait series, he also counteracts the selfie culture and the ubiquitous digital transformation of the image. The artist works with a repertoire of motifs from TV crime films in the ‘Wald-Orte’ group of works: Barrier tapes mark individual areas of the forest like crime scenes, faceless figures in protective suits scour the terrain in search of the unknown. Isolated ‘clues’ in colourful landscape sceneries point to mysterious connections, but the background remains in the dark.

The narrative potential of Armin Rohr’s works seems inexhaustible, but they are far removed from the illustrative. For the stories told there ultimately elude the viewer.

Source: Nicole Nix-Hauck, exhibition catalogue Städtische Galerie Neunkirchen

You can find more information, the podcast, a portrait of the artist Armin Rohr and the entire interview below.

Photo Credits:

2 to 29: Armin Rohr
1 and 30: Verena Feldbausch

Artist portrait Armin Rohr

Armin Rohr, born in 1961 in Hemsbach near Weinheim, has lived and worked in Saarland since childhood. He began his artistic training by studying design at the Saarland University of Applied Sciences, which he completed in 1988 with a diploma in design. He then studied free painting at the Hochschule der Bildenden Künste Saar (HBKsaar) from 1994 to 1998, where he was a master student of Professor Bodo Baumgarten.

Rohr has been a lecturer in drawing at the HBKsaar since 2003. His studio is located in the cultural centre at the EuroBahnhof in Saarbrücken. In the course of his career, he has received several awards, including the scholarship of the state capital Saarbrücken (1996), the Saar-Lor-Lux Art Prize of the city of Ottweiler (1997) and a working scholarship at the Cité Internationale des Arts in Paris (2002). Institute for Contemporary Art
Armin Rohr is a contemporary artist who works in various artistic fields, particularly painting and sculpture. Born in Germany, he has made a name for himself through his extraordinary works, which often show a mixture of abstraction and figurative representation. Rohr is known for his unique ability to experiment with colour and form, exploring deeper emotional and philosophical themes.

Artistic background and style

Rohr studied art and design at renowned institutions, specialising in abstract and expressionist art forms. In his work, he often deals with social, personal and political themes, and is not afraid to tackle difficult or controversial subjects. His works are characterised by powerful colours, dynamic compositions and a strong emotional impact.

An important aspect of Rohr’s art is his ability to work with different materials and techniques, which makes him a versatile artist. In addition to paintings and sculptures, he has also created installations and interactive art projects that invite the viewer to immerse themselves in the work and build a personal connection to it.

Influences and inspirations

Rohr is often influenced by various trends in modern art, including Expressionism, particularly the German Expressionists, as well as German Art Informel, which have strongly influenced him. 

He takes his inspiration from classical artists such as Edvard Munch, Paul Gauguin and Franz Marc, who belong to the classical modernist movement, but also from masters of the Baroque period such as Vermeer and Velázquez. He is also inspired by the experimental approach of contemporary artists.

His works often reflect the tensions and contradictions of today’s society and show a deep exploration of themes such as identity, freedom and the human condition.

Exhibitions and recognition

Armin Rohr has exhibited in various galleries and museums both in Germany and internationally. His works have repeatedly attracted a great deal of attention, both from art critics and art collectors. In addition to his artistic activities, he is also involved in promoting the art scene and supporting young, up-and-coming artists.

Rohr’s works have been presented in numerous exhibitions, both in public spaces and in galleries and museums. A current example is his solo exhibition ‘Aller Vergeblichkeit zum Trotz singe ich weiter mein Lied. On Anomalies, Coincidences & Probabilities’, which will take place from 14 March to 18 May 2025 at the Städtische Galerie Neunkirchen in the KULT.Kulturzentrum.

Conclusion

Armin Rohr is an artist whose works are characterised by their emotional depth and experimental approach to technique and material. By combining abstraction and figurative representation, he challenges the viewer and opens up new perspectives on the world. His works are a fascinating interplay of form, colour and meaning that constantly invites new interpretations.

Read the full interview with Armin Rohr

We talk about art at art talk, the art podcast from SaarLorLux. We meet curators and artists where they are exhibiting. With us, you will discover contemporary art and extraordinary art spaces in our region. Become part of gallery talks, exhibition openings, and finissages. You can listen to art talk everywhere there are podcasts.

Verena Feldbausch: Hello and welcome to a new episode of art talk, our art podcast for SaarLorLux. Today we are in the Städtische Galerie Neunkirchen at Armin Rohr’s exhibition titled “In spite of all hopelessness, I continue to sing my song. About anomalies, coincidences and probabilities”. You can see large-format paintings as well as drawings and watercolours created since 2019. Photos of the discussed works are, as always, on my blog. You can listen to our podcast on your preferred podcatcher or here on-site via a QR code linking to this conversation with Armin Rohr. This episode was funded by the Saarland Ministry of Education and Culture—thank you very much for that. I’m excited for an exclusive tour with Armin Rohr himself and wish you a great listening experience. Your Verena Feldbausch.

Hello Armin, welcome to art talk. First, let’s briefly introduce you and discuss your CV. You were born in Hemsbach near Mannheim. You studied design from 1983 to 1988, completing your basic apprenticeship with Professor Oskar Holweck, followed by studies with Professors Diethard Adt, Heinrich Popp, and Robert Sessler. From 1994 to 1998, you studied painting with Professor Bodo Baumgarten, who later appointed you a master student in 1998. You live and work in Saarbrücken. What did you do between 1988 and 1994, and what drove you in the early 90s to pursue an artist’s path?

Armin Rohr: During my graphic design degree at the University of Applied Sciences, I realized it wasn’t my path. I worked as a graphic designer during my studies, had clients with a friend, and was quick at it, but I soon knew I didn’t want to do it forever. I saw more expressive possibilities in drawing and painting. As a graphic designer, I was a service provider—clients came with specific needs, and I had to adapt, often doing things I wouldn’t choose myself. It was creative, but I felt drawn to free art, painting, and drawing, which I did a lot back then.

I moved to Stuttgart, wanting to study art at the Academy there or in Karlsruhe. I applied to various academies after my degree but was rejected multiple times—they wanted younger, moldable students, saying I already had a diploma and decent drawings. So, I worked freelance in Stuttgart to earn money while trying to connect with artists and exhibit in smaller contexts, like the Kunstverein Ludwigsburg, where I joined member exhibitions. Eventually, I returned to Saarbrücken in 1994 to study art again, and it worked out.

Exhibition Title and Creative Drive

Verena Feldbausch: The Städtische Galerie Neunkirchen showcases a comprehensive exhibition of your works since 2019—paintings, drawings, and watercolours. Before we dive into specific pieces, I’d like to explore the exhibition title: “In spite of all hopelessness, I continue to sing my song”. What does it mean to you?

Armin Rohr: In recent years, I’ve done smaller exhibitions, also beyond Saarland. Over time, my titles began reflecting my feelings as a painter, tied to the current social or political climate—sometimes more biographical. Early on, during my studies, titles were simple, like “painting and drawing”, but that’s not how I work anymore. I occasionally write texts or notes on my website about my thoughts on painting, drawing, or the wider world, and that’s where this evolved. I pondered this Neunkirchen title for a long time.

Today’s world—environmental issues, political tensions, the war in Ukraine—affects me as a person and artist, though I don’t directly paint about it. I’m not a political artist in that sense, but it shapes me. “Despite all hopelessness” emerged from about 50 word variations, reflecting the question: why keep doing this? Why paint? Why go to the studio daily and start anew? Something drives me—it’s almost an obsession. The subtitle— anomalies, coincidences, probabilities—ties into how we humans try to structure life, yet disruptions are constant.

We experience this daily: no matter our routine or job, something breaks the flow—a call, an interruption. You can’t focus fully on what you want. That’s the anomaly we face. Five years ago, peace was normal; now, war is routine. Coincidences, though, I embrace as an artist. In watercolours, much is uncontrollable, and I love that chance. In painting, an idea shifts mid-process—maybe from something I read that day—adding elements I didn’t plan minutes before. That’s chance and probability at play. The title’s long, not short at all.

Verena Feldbausch: Thank you, that’s very enlightening. I read a quote of yours in the exhibition catalogue about chance: “Coincidence plays a big role, it has conjured up the most beautiful and amazing images for me with a light hand. I owe it a lot.” I found that beautiful.

Armin Rohr on the Role of Chance

Armin Rohr: Some colleagues try to eliminate chance, working very methodically, but that’s never suited me. I prefer a meandering path, like my exhibition title two or three years ago in Burbach: “I meander through the world”. It reflects how I perceive and navigate the world, and how I work—taking winding routes, exploring diverse approaches.

Verena Feldbausch: You show large-format paintings, typically 1.50 by 2 meters in acrylic and oil on canvas, alongside smaller drawings and watercolours. Entering the exhibition, we face these big works, featuring figures and objects—forest places, as you call them. Most are “untitled”. Let’s start with the first large piece visitors see: “untitled (the last picture)”, painted in 2025. Why “untitled” for everything?

Titles and Visual Metaphors

Armin Rohr: This came about a long, long time ago when I worked non-figuratively. I painted and drew series without thinking about themes or captions. I realized titles didn’t add much—everyone sees what they want in non-figurative works. But sometimes, a color or structure sparked a title, or a newspaper or book gave me an association with figurative pieces. I started using brackets, feeling a title isn’t vital in 100 years—it’s helpful or a contrast, not essential. This continued into figurative works. In some exhibitions, I’ve retitled past pieces based on new themes; brackets mean it’s not fixed, it shifts with context.

Verena Feldbausch: Okay, I get it. Let’s look at “untitled (the last picture)”. It’s almost idyllic—a painter sits back with palette and tubes—but the forest burns menacingly behind. Is that you? How do you feel after this intense creative phase—exhausted?

Armin Rohr: The picture isn’t about the year-long push to finish this exhibition’s big works. These new large pieces are visual metaphors for me. The series—crime scenes, objects, forests—works on a meta level, not literal. I painted a blood-red sky early on, evoking fire and forest blazes. Started a year ago, it grew into this piece, using fire and forest as metaphors—an inner state, a symbol of what moves me now, not just a burning forest. It’s an introduction.

And in this picture, like all big ones, I didn’t know what objects or figures would appear. I began with a forest-and-fire idea in the underpainting. Then, a seated figure emerged—not clearly me, but it could be. The canvas came naturally in the process. Suddenly, it had a coherent narrative, maybe tied to the exhibition’s prep. I leave it open—people at the opening asked who it is, if he’s dead or exhausted. I won’t tell; many see their own stories in it.

I loved hearing visitors’ ideas at the opening—thoughts I hadn’t had. It’s the picture I least want to explain. Even for me, it’s unclear.

Verena Feldbausch: It’s certainly not clear. I’d see the forest fire as a natural disaster too.

Armin Rohr: Yes, it’s about exhaustion too. Someone sits by a blank canvas, fire in the back—naturally, you’d flee, but he doesn’t. The background colors offer many ways in.

Verena Feldbausch: So everyone makes their own story.

Armin Rohr: Exactly. At exhibitions, I don’t ask what the artist meant but what’s happening in the picture. I look at objects, composition, colors, structures. As a viewer, finding your own take is more thrilling.

Verena Feldbausch: True, and appealing. These large works, made between ’24 and ’25, blend figures and objects—camping chairs, broken cars, teddy bears, sneakers, red-white tapes on the floor. I read in the catalogue the templates are from photos and film stills. Which films? What do the objects mean—or is it up to us again?

Inspiration Sources 

Armin Rohr: First of all, the origin of the photos—where does that come from? I’ve thought about these images for years. Watching crime shows on TV or streaming, I’d pause and snap shots, thinking they’d be useful someday. I didn’t know what exactly—just a future spark without an entry. When the 2025 exhibition was set a year ago, I saw a chance to use them. The first picture showed I wasn’t copying but using scenes—white-suited figures, crime clichés. Many stories start with people searching a crime scene; that was my start. I composed most, like “the last picture”, from my head—no real forests or landscapes on photos.

I used templates for trees and structures. A vertical piece back there has 9-10 people painted from memory—fast, once perspective fits. Nude drawing gave me a form bank; suited figures are easy. Objects came later, intuitively, as pictures grew.

Verena Feldbausch: So no sketches first—just placing trees as you go?

Armin Rohr: One had a sketch, a memory jog—ideas fade fast. For 2025’s piece with people and boxes, I noted it, but usually, I start sketch-free. Acrylic base, a few trees, horizon tweaks, adjusting until it’s right, then oil finishes it. Some use photos, not exactly, but as threads in my varied methods—always have.

Verena Feldbausch: Acrylic’s the technical base for oil?

Armin Rohr: Yes, once it was egg tempera in studies, but drying lagged. Acrylic’s quick—ten canvases a day, testing skies or figures. It fits my spontaneity, a classic underpainting for oil’s slower pace.

Verena Feldbausch: Where’d you paint these—at KuBa studio?

Armin Rohr: Yes, small but sufficient—they just need to fit the door. I juggle multiple, rearranging as needed.

Verena Feldbausch: Now the second group: portraits. On the right as you enter, they’re classic but unidentifiable, except your selfie. Why not recognizable, with “untitled” and bracketed hints? What’s the idea?

Armin Rohr: Good question. I’ve always done portraits—self-portraits in studies, mirrored, like some here, though sized differently. They dissolved figures, leading to non-figurative work. I kept going, sketching live or from photos, not to copy but to start painting. No one’s identifiable; it’s just a trigger. Before this show, I painted my mother, demented three years, first realistically. Her rapid fade—personality dissolving—echoed my college theme, so I overpainted her features until nothing human remained, matching my feelings.

That sparked others. Early layers showed figures—like my daughter, whom my wife loved unfinished—but I couldn’t stop; it wasn’t my aim. Snapshots, not portraits, lack speech, motion—too thin for personality. Painting shifts them to universal, dodging “who’s that”. I lean to the dark—Jekyll and Hyde in us all—more gripping in art, films, books.

Verena Feldbausch: And yet you really use bright and actually cheerful colours.

Armin Rohr on Color and Contrast

Verena Feldbausch: So I don’t find them dark now. I think there are powerful, explosive colors in your pictures. Has that intensified lately? I recall watercolours or paper works being less vivid, but these large pieces and portraits feel very colorful.

Armin Rohr: I don’t think it’s intensified. I’ve had reduced phases—like 15 years ago, painting near-white faces with just a discreet red or blue. But color’s always drawn me, even at the academy. For this exhibition’s themes, it’s a complementary contrast. There’s gloom in the content—people sense it, mention it—but the colors, especially in landscapes, start idyllic, pulling viewers in. Many strong hues create a different space. If they were black-and-white or muted, I’d miss a dimension, a twist that shifts the images.

Verena Feldbausch: Definitely. Now, watercolours and drawings—smaller, on paper, with pencil, ink, chalk, felt-tip. Often groups or individuals, like holiday snapshots. Are they? Let’s look—this one has two people, the right in a striped shirt.

Armin Rohr: Mostly from holiday snapshots—friends, family, or my own. Sometimes I copy them compositionally, unchanged, but others I tweak, dropping or adding elements. During Corona, I drew from Pompeo Batoni, a baroque painter of Rome’s tourists—portraits with symbols, dogs, sculptures, showing “I was there”. Today’s landscape poses online echo that—nothing new. I stage these banal tales, ironizing them in drawings, pushing extremes. Landscapes get unease via odd colors—pink skies, poison green—hopefully a thread through all three work groups, my world-discomfort questioned in picture stories.

Some photos are old—my parents’ honeymoon, 60 years back. In drawings, paintings, they’re indistinguishable from last year’s. It’s an ancient theme—we all do it.

Verena Feldbausch: True, spanning decades. You said in the catalogue, “a pencil drawing is always a very good concept”. What’s that mean?

Drawing as Core

I started as a draftsman, pre-graphic design studies. I’ve always drawn—since then, I carry a sketchpad and pencil everywhere. It’s my rawest expression. No electricity, no Wi-Fi needed—I sit anywhere, vacation, pub, wherever a thought strikes, and start. No paint required—it’s simple, never dull, never outdated. Many colleagues, thankfully, still do it. It’s been with me over half my life; I can’t imagine stopping.

Verena Feldbausch: So you’ve got a wild notebook collection. There’s a monitor too, right? Entering, it’s on the right, showing excerpts from the last four years’ sketchpads, yes?

Armin Rohr: Not sure the exact span—I grabbed sketchbooks, some with decade-old sketches. I compiled them for this show—portraits, figurative tales, landscape notes from Saarbrücken walks, catching sun and shadow. Many personal stories, trimmed a bit for the exhibition.

Verena Feldbausch: And I mean, you also run a blog.

Verena Feldbausch: Is it daily, so you post something every day for friends or followers to see what you’ve done? Or is it more for you?

Armin Rohr: It started because my website was a hassle to update. In 2007, I found blogs—quick to set up with templates. I figured I’d let the site fade, adding to the blog instead. I began with self-portraits, not expecting it to last. I thought I’d switch if a simpler site idea came up. But it turned into a diary. When I’m not painting big works, I update almost daily—drawings, notes, banal stuff. Often, it’s sketches from student courses outdoors—explanatory or my own doodles, silly or unserious, but tied to me.

Drawings get personal; I don’t shy from showing that. Nearly 20 years now, it’s part of me. Last year, big paintings cut drawing time—entries slowed. But it’ll shift again. I can’t imagine stopping. Other artists do it too—not many, but some.

Verena Feldbausch: I picture all those sketchpads in your studio—sorted by year or month? How do you find anything? Do you revisit them as thought aids? How do you manage?

Armin Rohr: Not at all—I’m a mess, totally. For the monitor here, I’d photographed drawings for the blog over years. Digging through shelves, I found unshot sketches, but time ran short. I’m sloppy—might snap more later. The blog matters more, tracking years, than sketchpads or storage. I do flip through them. A 20-year-old one pulls me right back—more than photos. Drawing a landscape, taking time, embeds it differently; I relive the mood instantly.

Verena Feldbausch: Interesting, yes. And now I have a question about the series.

Verena Feldbausch: Yes, so now I quote you again from the catalogue: “Dark clouds sweeten my day. I thank you, you God of the series.” Serial art uses repetition and variation. You always paint in series—we saw it with portraits. When’s a topic done for you?

Armin Rohr: It’s a feeling. I work a theme until I hit the studio fearing repetition or blank on ideas. Then I switch. That explains breaks many don’t get—why figurative, then suddenly abstract? Often, it’s boredom. I can’t just redo myself. Years later, I might revisit, refreshed. Serial work’s proven vital for me.

Verena Feldbausch: Forest places aren’t done yet, right? Some paintings exist, but there’s more potential, I’d guess?

Armin Rohr: There’s been a break—four weeks barely in the studio. I’m eager now. Forest places are mostly canvases, wood, some small. Few drawings, not shown here—they didn’t fit. I could push them on paper—freer as a draftsman, quick to try or toss. I might shift from forests to urban spaces. Objects like cars or caravans, unthinkable months ago, now intrigue me pictorially—not just as sketches, but full works. There’s lots left; it’ll grow.

Verena Feldbausch: Nice, great. Thank you very much.

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