Hypeart Visits: Leyla Fischer’s “Silent Echoes” Balances Pain & Strength

Leyla Fischer’s path is marked by contrasts – two sides that have molded her and are reflected in her current art. In our newest Hypeart Visits feature, we shine a light on Fischer, an artist whose work beautifully balances vulnerability and power. Her latest series, “Silent Echoes,” delves deeply into resilience, transformation, and self-discovery, expressed vividly through the powerful imagery of Dobermans.

Raised by a Somali mother who was Muslim and a German father who was an atheist, Fischer grew up in a world where two very different cultures and belief systems collided. This contrast created a tension that led her to spend her life seeking balance and identity. This struggle is reflected in the series “Silent Echoes,” which emerged from feelings of grief, solitude, and courageous confrontation with fear.

As I journeyed through my feelings, I tackled each challenge squarely, a sentiment I express openly. For months on end, I found solace in seclusion, channeling my emotions into this remarkable series. It proved to be an indispensable refuge for me.

In my father’s apartment in Germany, I started sketching Dobermans – a creative pursuit that gradually took shape over time. Just three months before he left us, I completed the final piece of this heartfelt collection. The very act of creating became my sanctuary, providing me with the fortitude to face the profound grief that followed.

In the artwork “Silent Echoes”, the Dobermans are not just characters; they symbolize Fischer’s personal journey. Portrayed in different emotional states, these dogs capture the stark contrasts that Fischer has faced throughout her life. Fischer describes Dobermans as being loyal, strong, and imposing, stating that they embody everything she felt during this period. Each piece serves as both an emotional journal and a self-portrait, showcasing the extent of Fischer’s transformation. “Silent Echoes” provides viewers with a glimpse into Fischer’s world—a realm where pain and power intertwine, and art serves as solace. For more insights, read the full interview below.

“Each painting is a conversation, my way to express the pain and beauty of being alive.”

How has your family’s history influenced the emotional undertones of yourwork?

Last year marked a transformative period in my life, shaping deep-seated undercurrents. During this time, I confronted my most daunting fears – coping with loss, grief, and loneliness. At one point, I felt as though I had transcended fear itself. This realization came to me when my friend asked about my biggest fear, and I found myself unable to answer the question. If I’ve already faced them, what else could be feared?

This moment sparked introspection, compelling me to confront everything I had experienced. I desired to immerse myself in those experiences fully and transform them into something meaningful, so I chose solitude for several months. And from this isolation emerged “Silent Echoes”.

What central ideas or emotions are you exploring through your current collection of paintings?

To put it simply, viewing my artwork feels much like flipping through my personal journal or gazing at a reflection in a mirror. I’ve delved into emotions such as love and sorrow, yet also tranquility and fury. Each piece functions as a dialogue, serving as my outlet to articulate the complexities of life – its anguish and splendor.

Could you share the reason behind your choice of Dobermans as the main theme in this series, and how these dogs hold personal significance to you?

Initially, as I began to draw Dobermans, I wasn’t aware of the reason behind it. It was more about translating the images that surfaced in my mind. To me, these dogs embody an intriguing blend of majesty, loyalty, elegance, but also protection, intimidation, and power. Upon completing the first oil painting, I finally understood the “why” and connected the dots. The contrasting traits and qualities mirrored the transformation I’ve experienced. When I stood before the painting, it felt as if the dogs were shielding me, yet I was the one who painted them. This moment held a deeply personal and special significance, particularly during a challenging period in my life.

I began creating sketches at my father’s apartment in Germany while he was still alive. Three months after completing the final oil painting, he passed away. I can’t help but wonder how different my year would have been if I hadn’t painted this series. It was almost like a savior, if you will. As I painted, I felt a renewed strength, even when certain pieces frustrated and angered me. Without a doubt, it is the most personal collection I’ve ever produced.

I aimed to savor the painting process and appreciate it leisurely, yet at the same time, I found myself compelled to quickly pour out my emotions and thoughts onto canvas.

How does the scale of these paintings enhance or shift the narrative you’retrying to communicate?

The size of my paintings plays a crucial role as it draws you in, captivating your focus. A larger piece demands attention and intensifies the impact of the message I aim to convey. By immersing the viewer within the concepts and feelings I express, I strive to make them feel engulfed by the artwork, even if smaller paintings such as my depiction of an angry Doberman barking loudly, manage to create a powerful effect despite their diminutive scale.

What did a typical day in your studio look like when you’re immersed in this series?

Initially, when I embarked on oil painting projects, I set my own timeline and viewed it as a personal exploration. I aimed to paint at a leisurely pace yet simultaneously felt compelled to share my emotions immediately. Consequently, during the creation of the first Doberman collection, I worked tirelessly for 2.5 months without taking any days off. To save time on meal planning and clothing choices, I prepared all meals at home and wore my studio attire everywhere. This routine proved effective and became habitual during that period. Therefore, a typical day in the studio was rather uneventful – breakfast, painting, lunch, painting, dinner, sleep.

When I pour out my thoughts and feelings onto the canvas, I reveal my deepest self, which makes me vulnerable. However, there’s power in that sincerity.

How do you approach the physicality and technique of painting on such large canvases?

Working on expansive canvases allows me to immerse myself in the universe I construct. It’s all about seizing that initial, raw power. Each of my dogs symbolizes a unique narrative, a distinct feeling. My methods revolve around richness and intensity. When I apply oil paint in layers, I consider their dynamics, how they generate tension and balance – it’s not premeditated, the element of surprise is vital.

What role does your studio environment play in shaping your creativeprocess?

I find my studio a perfect blend of orderliness and disorder, reflecting an extension of my thoughts. It feels more like home than my actual apartment does. This space allows me to freely express myself, and it’s here that my ideas truly flourish. Music significantly contributes to this, as its rhythm and energy help stimulate my mind.

How do you navigate the tension between vulnerability and power in your work?

In my creative work, I view vulnerability and power as mirror images. By pouring my thoughts and feelings onto the canvas, I reveal my innermost self, which can be seen as a vulnerable act. However, there’s an undeniable strength in this honest expression.

Photography by Julius Ignacio for Hypeart.

Read More