FRAGMENTED REALITIES: IN CONVERSATION WITH DAVID HOLZAPFEL
words AÏCHA PILMEYER
It’s not often you come across a young artist who started painting only two years ago, yet already speaks through such a distinct visual language. Twenty-three-year-old DAVID HOLZAPFEL grew up in Frankfurt, Germany, and moved to Amsterdam to study, but it wasn’t his studies that changed his life. It was painting.
His work combines bold colours and clean lines with a raw edge. Rich in symbolism, each canvas becomes a reflection of what it means to be human. Now, driven by restless energy and a hunger for new perspectives, David is preparing to leave the city behind, and I want to understand why.
AÏCHA PILMEYER
How did your journey with painting begin?
DAVID HOLZAPFEL
I went to England to pursue a pre-bachelor’s in art, design and media, where I primarily focused on creating fashion imagery. Afterwards, I came to Amsterdam to study media at the University of Amsterdam. During that time, I got the opportunity to spend seven months in New York. That’s where I started painting because I finally had time to try something completely new.
Before this, I had done some sketching in school, but I had never really painted. I just bought a canvas, went to my basement and started. For the first time, I felt like I could create my world, something that truly resembled how I think. I never felt that kind of connection before. Painting became a way to process what I go through, almost like seeing a psychologist.
AP
Can you explain that connection?
DH
I only paint what I struggle with. By making those things visible, I can work through them. It begins with an emotion, then evolves into a concept and finally the visual follows.
I want to say things in a way that isn’t too direct, more in a coded way. Painting allows me to make a strong emotional statement without having to explain everything. It’s like attacking someone’s feelings rather than someone’s knowledge, inviting people to search for meaning instead of handing it to them.
AP
What changed when you came back from New York?
DH
My first works were more socially critical, detached from me. When I came back to Amsterdam, I hit a low. I wouldn’t say I was depressed, but I felt down. That changed my work. It became more personal, more reflective and closer to how I feel. It turned inwards.
From that very first painting, I knew this was it. People always tell you to find something you like. Many are still searching at 40 or 50 years old. For me, painting was the first time I felt completely fulfilled.
AP
Has your visual style changed much since you started painting?
DH
Yes. The way I depict bodies has shifted the most. I started with straight lines and abstract forms using a ruler. However, in Amsterdam, as I became more absorbed in the work, the bodies became more human, more vulnerable and real. They’re still linear — I’m naturally drawn to that — but they’ve become rawer, indicating a sort of struggle.
AP
You use a specific colour scheme in your paintings and a mixture of materials, like thread and mirror fragments. How did you find this combination?
DH
Looking back, I realise that the combination reminds me of drawings I made when I was 15. So, in a way, it’s always been there. I started with acrylic on canvas, and over time, the works became more layered. I only work with primary colours and black and white. I’m not sure why. I think it’s because I paint from memories and dreams, and those feel faded; you only remember key moments. I break those associations down into primary colours, like memory fragments.
I’m drawn to materials that say more than they show at first glance, like the multicoloured thread I use in many layers to shape human bodies. Each thread may be a different colour, but they’re all made of the same material, like parts of a whole. Together, they suggest there’s more to a human being than the single outer image we see; there are always more versions of the self beneath the surface.
A few paintings ago, I started adding mirror fragments. Every Monday, we put our trash out for collection on the street, and I saw some mirror pieces lying on the ground. At the time, I was struggling with how I saw myself from the outside. The mirrors reminded me I’m more than one fixed image. Everyone sees you differently. I added them so the viewer can reflect upon themselves through the work.
AP
How do you want people to interact with your work?
DH
It starts as a monologue, but I want it to become a dialogue. Recently, a friend said a piece felt uplifting, even though it came from a very dark place for me. I love that. It’s not about communicating something directly; it’s about what the viewer brings to it.
These days, everything’s about facts and making things easily digestible. I don’t want that. My work should leave room for imagination and complexity. It’s emotional work, but I paint it philosophically. I’m always in my head, overthinking everything. That’s visible in my process; it’s slow and thoughtful. It helps me structure my emotions and make them tangible.
AP
You’re about to leave Amsterdam for London. Why?
DH
That’s just who I am. I’ve been moving for the past five years, and I’m not planning on stopping. I like being uncomfortable. You learn more that way. When you don’t know something, you are forced to look closer. When things become familiar, you stop seeing them. I want to keep seeing.
AP
Were you able to connect with the Amsterdam art scene?
DH
Not really. The art scene in general can be hard to connect with. You have to make a name for yourself before people are willing to let you in. You attend openings, and everyone has the same interests, yet people still don’t talk to each other. You can shake someone’s hand three times, and they still don’t remember you.
In Amsterdam, it felt very Dutch-centric, and I don’t speak the language well. I noticed most young artists being represented came from the local academies. In bigger cities, you see more international diversity. That’s not a critique — it’s good they support local talent — but with that, I think they also limit themselves.
AP
What excites you about leaving?
DH
In Amsterdam, I gained a deeper understanding of myself and my work matured. In London, I’ll be sharing a studio for the first time. Until now, I’ve always worked alone in my bedroom, confronted by my paintings every morning and night. It gave me the freedom to work whenever I wanted, but also made the process more intense.
I’m curious how the change in environment will affect my work. Maybe it’ll feel less lonely, or perhaps I’ll end up alone in my bedroom again. But I never want that excitement to fade. That eagerness to discover something new keeps me going every day.
