Hannah Bauer

Every plant has a portrait waiting to be painted. I work exclusively from life, sitting for hours in front of a single specimen until I understand how its structure actually holds together, the way a stem twists toward light or a petal thins almost to transparency at its edge. Watercolour suits this kind of attention because it cannot be corrected the way oil or digital work can; each wash has to be placed with real conviction, which forces me to look longer before I paint. I choose ordinary plants as often as rare ones, dandelions alongside orchids, because I am less interested in botanical spectacle than in the quiet architecture every living thing shares. My sketchbooks are full of specimens gathered on daily walks near Herrenhausen, and I think of the finished paintings less as illustrations of nature and more as close, patient conversations with it.