German contemporary artist Anselm Reyle, born in 1970 in Tübingen, Germany, lives and works in Berlin. Even during his student years, he stood out with his unruly personality and attitude, which have consistently permeated his thinking and artistic practice. Beyond his well-known "visual series" installations featuring materials like silver foil, his 2024 creation—Untitled, his largest neon work to date composed of over 800 neon tubes—became the "year's most Instagrammable moment" at the Xie Zilong Photography Museum in Changsha. This annual blockbuster exhibition earned its English title: Anselm Reyle: Magic Shine Ray 800.
This dazzling installation showcases the artist's decades-long mastery—his bold yet delicate command of light, color, and space. In his hands, the commonplace neon tube transforms into three-dimensional "fluorescent brushstrokes," alternately crisp and aloof or whimsically naive, like graffiti scrawled across an infinite night sky. Encased in silver-mirrored walls, the work refracts flickering urban vignettes, immersing visitors in a fleeting spectacle where the loneliness and brilliance of mortal life are fully revealed.
Recently, the Xie Zilong Photography Museum announced the extension of its 2024 annual exhibition Anselm Reyle: The Glow of Mortal World (launched June 22) through February 9, 2025—a perfect "festive finale" for the Year of the Snake. Art enthusiasts are urged not to miss this radiant artistic feast.
Curated by Xie Jiaqi, Executive Director of the museum, and Dr. Wang Xi, a photography historian, the exhibition offers a panoramic view of Reyle’s pivotal works from the past twelve years: iconic neon installations, silver foil paintings, haystack sculptures, lava-glazed ceramic vases, and recent abstract photography.
Oui Art was invited to conduct an in-depth interview with Anselm Reyle, exploring his formative influences, material experiments, and the profound relationship between his work and the industrial urban era.
When I saw your small-scale Untitled neon series—composed of tubes, acrylic, and wires—incorporating elements like "love," I wanted to discuss composition. My first thought was Russian Constructivist Liubov Popova’s 1921 Spatial Force Construction, where industrial production merged with art to forge a new visual language. Though materials differ, your compositions seem to inherit her conceptual legacy. Are these works chapters or condensed versions of your larger neon pieces?
That’s astute. The compositions indeed draw from Constructivism or Orphic Cubism, just as I repurpose remnants of our industrial/consumer society. My early stripe paintings also reflect this. Thousands of such works exist in modern art history, but mine distinguish themselves through exaggerated, dissonant colors and added materials like mirrors or foil.
Let’s discuss your largest neon installation to date. It’s breathtaking in scale yet rich in detail. Did the exhibition title Magic Shine Ray 800 (referencing 800 tubes) come first, or the concept for the massive work?
The museum’s vast space inspired the large-scale neon piece. We built scaffolding, wrapped it in silver foil to create infinite reflections, and then installed the neon. Titles often borrow from existing vocabulary—song lyrics, B-movies, or products. Magic Shine Ray 800 is actually a bike light model!
At the opening, I noticed many visitors lingering and showing strong desire to take photographs. How do you hope audiences experience your work?
I've observed that in China, taking selfies seems to be more frequent and important than in Europe or America. As long as this doesn't hinder people from experiencing and understanding the art, it doesn't bother me. (I think) it might even create a positive connection.
Neon has become a signature medium for you—a tool to repurpose urban kitsch. Artists like Joseph Kosuth and Bruce Nauman used neon to challenge linguistic norms, while Keith Sonnier expanded painting’s lexicon with it. Which predecessors influenced you? What does neon mean to you, and what do you feel you’ve pioneered?
Modern art has long absorbed urban energy. Pop Art’s 60s–70s neon obsession is one example. Dan Flavin purified neon into halos of light; Arte Povera paired it with straw or rusted metal, animating materials. I collect glassblowing remnants to create 3D "light drawings." Later, I mounted neon on foil paintings—the color interplay is mesmerizing.
Your triptych Silver Foil Paintings in pink, blue, and black is visually striking. Why replace traditional pigment with aluminum foil layered under colored acrylic glass? What were you testing?
"Testing" is apt—I’ve used foil for 20 years! Since 2003, I’ve evolved this series despite initial backlash. Applying decorative foil to abstract canvases felt taboo then. Critics dismissed it as merely decorative, but I challenged that dichotomy.
You’ve said, "Many artists explore inward, while I look outward." This contrast is striking. Is it instinctive or intentional?
I find inspiration externally—in objects or ideas that captivate me and others alike. I’m not contrarian; I’m just one of many responding to shared stimuli.
You’ve taught painting at Hamburg Fine Arts University since 2009. As a self-described "unruly" student, how do you mentor artists today?
I was an average student who resisted expectations, left school early, and tried many paths. Art school became my lifeline—the first place I belonged since kindergarten. Now, I prioritize students with unconventional backgrounds. Over 20 years, they’ve created the most provocative work.
Producer：Tiffany Liu
Editor, writer：Tiffany Liu
Designer：Yizhou
The images are partly taken by the author and partly sourced from XPM Museum
