Since my early childhood I have drawn and painted almost daily. In the cellar of my parents’ house was an old wooden workbench and all around it were old planks and slats, which I used to create my first pieces. At times my father helped me. We made a big Chinese treasure ship, and an even bigger ship called Anorcha. Only much later I found out that it was Noah’s Ark.

I am sure that this was the beginning of my love for wood; the smell of cedar, pine or walnut and its unpredictability to work with, both still rivet me. Wood does not adapt obediently to my wishes as paper would. Often it cracks, its fibres run contrary to what I imagine. Constantly I need to revise my plans and find new solutions. Over decades wood becomes weathered and gains its own patina.

For me it is important that the formation process of a sculpture is visible. The roughly hewn, raw, untreated wood pieces still show the traces of the saw and the rapidly applied paint surfaces and patches. This same impatience is visible in my drawings and watercolors. I want urgently to put something to paper.

I often translate my sketches into three-dimensional sculptures. These in turn affect my drawings.

I'm particularly interested in living creatures, their relationships to each other and their environment.

My wife Maria and I work very closely together. We develop stories and concepts for exhibitions, installations, books and films. We are actively supported by our children and their partners: Simon helps in the workshop, and Claudia and Leigh Singer co-operate with the movies and books.