No. 90: Johanna Bath

Great Expectations, Philipp Guston's I paint what I want to see, a photo of Françoise Gilot & Picasso, the South, and having a playful approach to the boring tasks.

Jun 12, 2025

Johanna Bath is a painter from the Westphalia region of Germany, where she still lives and works. Her paintings feel like hazy captures of the in-between – parted lips, eyes barely shut, knees squeezing together – moments between two points in time: “The ephemeral dominates our life. Only the present is clear and accurate, both past and present are blurred. I want to translate this idea onto canvas.” Her solo show “Only Love Will Save Us” is on view at Enari Gallery in Amsterdam until July 6. From Johanna —

I. a film

Growing up in the 90s, I remember vividly that I was and still am madly in love with „Great Expectations“ from 1998. The cast, the aesthetics, the romanticized „life of an artist“, the heart-drench and on top, the beautiful artwork by Francesco Clemente, just had me in awe and for the first time, I thought that becoming an artist just had to be the coolest thing.

I also realized, as I was always hopelessly unlucky in love, that making art would be something that could be helpful with impressing boys. Never worked though :-)

II. a book

I just finished I paint what I want to see, a book filled with conversations with Philipp Guston and I really enjoyed it. It gives some great insides about how he sees his work and to begin with, how he sees art in general. I find these kinds of books fantastic as they make me feel less alone in a sense. Making art can be a funny activity as you never really know what you are doing and you are digging in the dark, more or less. To read other artists' approaches gives me confidence and reassures me, I am alright and that what I am doing has value. It is also a great source of inspiration in case I need to write about my work which is always a struggle.

It might seem to be a paradox for some but creating the art and writing about it are two very different things sometimes opposing each other. My approach to art is very intuitive: I never plan, I don’t ask myself why. Art is the language. So when I have to write about it, I am just as clueless as everyone else and it takes time to get to know the work, to understand and read it.

III. a photograph

The very famous photo of Françoise Gilot walking in front of Picasso on a beach in France is very dear to me and I keep it as a print in my bathroom. Everything about this is wonderful. The picture itself, the aesthetics of the French Riviera in the 50s, the fact that she looks like a goddess, that she is ahead of Picasso who, on the other hand, is for once nothing but an assistant, holding the parasol. If you know her story and the story of how awful Picasso treated his women, it is such an iconic shot.

To me, it’s a glorious image of womanhood and feminism, the empowerment of women but in a playful and relaxed way. I just adore her and this picture.

Another artwork in my house is a print of Delacroix’s “liberty leading the people” with this fierce female figure in the front who has ripped off half of her clothes, revealing her chest. But she couldn’t care less about her appearance, she is just in for a greater cause.

It is only in retrospect that I realized I have chosen those works because they embody strength without stripping them from their femininity. This idea is pretty much the core of my work. To create art that is both: soft and feminine but has a very strong quality about it, a punch that finds its strength in being feminine, vulnerable and soft.

IV. a source of inspiration

The South. Although I am German born and raised, I find myself quite alienated from my origin when it comes to food, enjoying and celebrating life, and the northern climate. As long as I can remember, I was taken to France for vacations (I would avoid the rather overcrowded and touristy Cote d’Azur - instead go more rural. The triangle between Arles/Nimes and Avignon is my fave). My parents even moved there years ago and the time spent there shaped me massively.

I have to go to the South, doesn’t have to be France but Southern Europe will do, a few times a year to survive the German fall and winter. Most importantly for a painter: the light is just different and makes such a difference. Colors are so much more vibrant, nature is as well, even in winter. I think that my entire color palette is pretty much inspired by the area: everything is kind of sunbleached, washed out, and infused with warm and earthy colors. I often take pictures of plants and paint them when I am back home in the studio.

Food is something very important to me and I feel so much more love and appreciation for it in the South, especially when it comes to sharing it with people. And lastly the warmth: I am not build for anything under 20 degrees and will happily take in the sunshine and heat.

V. a lifehack that sparks joy

Without intention, I have always kept a quite playful approach to boring tasks that you get to do as an adult. As this certainly does not apply to doing my taxes or anything related to public authorities, which still feels daunting as ever, I love grocery shopping and cooking for example. This might be the most boring to some, but I still find it wild that if I wanted to, I could just walk into any supermarket anytime and get ANYTHING that I want and then come home and cook ANYTHING I wanted. What a marvelous vision. Or rediscovering food that is so simple but so so good. I had an orange the other day and thought there is hardly anything more delicious than this fruit. The obsession lasts for a few weeks until I find myself the next great thing. This can also be applied to every aspect of life really. Right now I am obsessing over homemade Vanilla Frappé Latte, watching the French Open and seeking interior inspiration from magazines.

BULLETIN

Los Angeles

On view: Noah Davis survey at the Hammer. Oliver Clegg’s Always Right, Sometimes Left at Journal Gallery. Justin John Greene’s Particular Dish at Matthew Brown. Hannah Lee’s Dumbo’s Feathers at James Fuentes. Lucas Rubly’s Monumentos à Memória at Sea View. Kaoru Ueda at Nonaka Hill. Richard Diebenkorn: The 1993 Portfolio at Gemini G.E.L. Adam Silverman’s Seeds and Weeds, Tomoo Gokita’s Naked, Sarah Rosalena’s Unending Spiral, Wilhelm Sasnal’s AAAsphalt at Blum. Mungo Thomson’s Time Life and Nathaniel Oliver’s A Tension Worth Keeping Because the Drift is Always There at Karma. Alan Lynch’s Infinitely on the Surfaces of This Teardrop World at Chateau Shatto. Henry Churchod’s Rome Is No Longer in Rome at Clearing. JJ Manford’s Jacaranda June at Nazarian/Curcio. Maria Calandra’s Time is No Fairytale at Half Gallery. Mary Weatherford’s The Surrealist at David Kordansky. Group show The Abstract Future at Jeffrey Deitch. Group show Flower Hour at Authorized Dealer. Greta Waller’s 3 a.m. at Fernberger. Cataclysm: The 1972 Diane Arbus Retrospective Revisited at David Zwirner. Gustave Caillebotte: Painting Men at The Getty.

New York

On view: Group show Correspondences including Heidi Bucher, Willa Wasserman and Alix Vernet opens tonight at Francois Ghebaly. Juanita McNeely’s Works on Paper at James Fuentes. Wenhui Hao’s By The Rivers Dark and group show French Fry’s Fifth at Half Gallery. Diane Arbus: Constellation at the Park Avenue Armory. Koichi Sato’s Adolescent Sanctuary at 56 Henry. Isabella Ducrot’s Visited Lands at Pretzel. Carolina Fusilier’s Imago at Margot Samel. Jenny Calivas: Self Portraits While Buried and Maria Antelman’s Conjurer at Yancey Richardson. Lorna Simpson’s Source Notes at The Met. Group show Lucid Apparitions at Lyles and King. Lena Henke’s The City Transformed at 55 Walker. Love and Butterfly — an exhibition of works by Corita Kent — at Andrew Kreps. Toshiko Takaezu’s Bronzes at James Cohan. Alexis Ralaivao’s Éloge de l’ombre at Kasmin. Semiotics of Dressing at Jacqueline Sullivan. Austin Weiner’s Half Way Home at Levy Gorvy Dayan. Group show Circa 1995 at Zwirner. Randy Wray’s Prehistory at Karma. Leiko Ikemura’s Talk to the Sky, Seeking Light at Lisson. Salman Toor’s Wish Maker at Luhring Augustine. William Kentridge’s A Natural History of the Studio and Eternal Beginnings: Francis Picabia at Hauser & Wirth. Sargent and Paris at The Met. Ludmilla Balkis’ Grasp the Mountains, Then Let Them Go at Guild. Yu Nishimura’s Clearing Unfolds at David Zwirner. Picasso: Tête-à-tête at Gagosian. Claes Oldenburg and Peter Moore’s New York Streets and Signs at Paula Cooper. Jack Whitten: The Messenger at MoMa. The Human Situation with works by Maria Marcus, Alice Neel, and Sylvia Sleigh at Lévy Gorvy Dayan. Louise Nevelson’s Collection View at The Whitney.