In a year ablaze with Aries energy—marked by powerful transits, eclipses, and retrogrades—this conversation couldn’t be more timely. Uwe Henneken isn’t just creating; he’s living and feeling through an alchemical process, using fire both as a literal tool and a metaphor for transformation.
It hit me—like a bolt—as I woke from an afternoon nap, that liminal space where intuition speaks before the mind catches up. That’s exactly how his work feels: a sudden charge of pure color, a direct transmission that bypasses logic and pulls the viewer in within split seconds. Engaging with his work is to experience that moment of ignition, the kind that alters perception in an instant. And isn’t that exactly what this year demands?
The cosmos is screaming for transformation, self-assertion, and release—or in other words… burn! Burn it all down, baby, so the new can be born and rise from the ashes! (screams in witch)
Henneken is literally working through transmutation, wielding fire—one of the most ancient, powerful tools for change. And in a time like this, fire becomes even more relevant, a force of both destruction and creation. When practiced with intention, it’s more than an element; it’s a gateway to transformation. A life hack, really—one we should all be taught in school. But first read this interview!
Which of these elements (space, air, fire, water, earth) would you choose in relation to your practice and/or yourself, and why?
All of them, really. I recently moved to an old farm on a Danish island, surrounded by water—the archetype of the subconscious—rooted in the earth, and beneath the ever-shifting mountains of clouds in the air.
Here, I’ve created a ritual: I begin by tracing difficult emotions and releasing them through painting.
These raw, initial works are then given to the cleansing force of fire. Only after this process do I begin the pieces I want others to connect with—works created from a clearer, more intentional place.
Is there a particular artwork, person or situation that inspired you to become an artist?
As a child, I wanted to be an archaeologist/anthropologist, but when I studied these fields, they felt too theoretical and detached.
However, I found there the idea that the shaman is a prototype of the artist—someone who journeys into another reality, returns with a vision, and shares it with their community, sometimes even offering healing.
That concept fascinated me and ultimately led me to become an artist.
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Do you consider yourself spiritual and how does this feed into your work?
Yes, absolutely. In my work, my personal development, spiritual path, and creative expression are deeply interwoven.
They influence and shape one another in ways that are visible in my art.
Is there a book or author you read that stimulates you?
There are many books and stories that have influenced me. A major inspiration was The Magus of Strovolos, as well as James Frazer’s The Golden Bough, particularly its exploration of the cyclical nature of early societies. Other works that have deeply resonated with me include Adelbert von Chamisso’s Peter Schlemihl, Edgar Allan Poe’s The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym, and Wilhelm Hauff’s Das kalte Herz.
These stories contain elements of transformation, mystery, and human struggle, which I find fascinating.
Please tell us what you are looking forward to this year
I am looking forward to spending my third year on this magical, mysterious island and remain deeply grateful for the inspiration it offers. Last year, I was immersed in several intense art projects. Now, I am focused on research, painting, and even returning to sculpture for a while.
Where do you find inspiration, how can we imagine your process while creating work?
I recently discovered that I fall heavily within the AD(h)D spectrum, which has reframed many aspects of my life. I can be inspired by almost anything but sustaining focus or following a structured process can be challenging. Establishing a routine itself can feel exhausting.
For a while, I tried meditating before painting to gain focus, and while that sometimes works, I have found that the best approach is simply allowing myself the time and space to ease into the process.
When I stop forcing it and surrender to the work, the magic happens.
Aesthetics and Process aside, which emotions you want to trigger with your work and why?
I see art as a form of service—an opportunity to use my abilities to uplift and inspire others.
Lately, I have also been delving deeper into the healing aspects of art and its potential to transform both the artist and the viewer.
If you could, what would you change in the “art world”?
I believe it is an artist’s duty to create utopias.
The dystopias of the past have become reality—now it’s time for artists to offer new visions of what’s possible.
As human beings, we are the creators of our own realities. Especially as artists, whose job is creating– through our work, we don’t just reflect the world as it is; we help shape what it could become, carrying a responsibility to create with intention and mindfulness, in service of the collective.
15 years ago, I created dystopias myself—building cannons, soldier-esque Vanguard sculptures, and painting scenes of looming wars and unrest. Back then, Europe had lived in peace for so long that war felt impossible. But I doubted that certainty and wanted to forewarn that democracy was at risk, drawing on thinkers like Oswald Spengler and social cycle theories. Now, much of what once seemed distant has become reality.
Looking at this, I realize we as artists must do more than warn—we need to imagine and embody a different future. It’s time to shift our focus from collapse to creation.
At the same time, I’ve noticed how many artists today are becoming one-trick ponies, feeling pressured to develop a recognizable “product” rather than pursuing true artistic exploration. In a time of uncertainty, the urge to play it safe is strong.
The influence of AI and algorithms and the endless scroll of social media have only intensified this, fueling a trend toward predictability and mediocrity. But if art becomes too polished, too consumable, too familiar, it risks losing its depth, its mystery, and ultimately, its soul.
More than ever, we need art that dares to go beyond the obvious—art that opens doors, shifts perspectives, uplifts and carries the energy of real possibility.
The future is .. ?
… what we make of it—every single person, with every thought and action, every second, every day.
But most of all, the future is not existing, there’s only NOW.
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Conductor: Esther Harrison