MALA is a new nomadic off-space without a permanent location that makes art in public spaces accessible around the clock. During Berlin Art Week, it will present ›Music of the Mind‹, an exhibition by the African American musician and visual artist Wadada Leo Smith.
Do you have a daily ritual that gives you structure or inspiration?
I keep a gratitude journal. It reminds me every day that, despite everything happening in the world, there is always something to be grateful for.
What would you do if time, money, and other resources were no object?
That is not a state I know. My life has always been shaped by setting priorities and making the most of limited resources. If money and resources were unlimited, I would probably just have different worries. Time, however, remains the determining factor. Precisely because it is finite—and because we are mortal—our actions gain meaning. I am therefore less preoccupied with the idea of limitless possibilities than with the question of how I want to spend my limited time.
Has there been a book that fundamentally changed your perspective—and why would you recommend it?
›Brave, Not Perfect‹ by Reshma Saujani. The book powerfully illustrates how upbringing and societal expectations often encourage girls to strive for perfection rather than courage, depriving them of the willingness to take risks, self-confidence, and the freedom to make mistakes. It sharpened my awareness of how deeply rooted these patterns are and how important it is to choose courage over perfection.
What do you wish you had known earlier?
That anger can be a productive force. I learned that from Monica Bonvicini: Take Your Anger to Work!
Where do you recharge your batteries?
Horizontally.
Is there a work of art you would love to have in your home?
One of Isa Genzken’s ›World Receivers‹—those wonderful concrete radios with antennas. They remind me that music opens up worlds. I once had the opportunity to exhibit one of her World Receivers alongside a work by Ruth Wolf-Rehfeldt. In different ways, both works speak of borders, walls, our need for connection, and how the world reaches us. The fact that concrete—a material associated with weight and separation—becomes a medium of reception is what gives Genzken’s work its poetic appeal for me. My own ›world receiver‹ is currently COSMO, a public-service radio station with an international programming. Every day, it reminds me that the world can sometimes be just one frequency away. COSMO brings together music and voices from across the globe and, as a multilingual and multicultural broadcaster, embodies openness and mutual understanding. The fact that its future beyond 2027 is now in question sends the wrong signal. At a time when social cohesion and dialogue are more important than ever, a programme like this should not be weakened but preserved and strengthened.
Which exhibition venue in Berlin inspires you?
The smaller institutions with gardens on Berlin’s so-called periphery—all led by remarkable curators: Haus am Waldsee under Anna Gritz, Brücke-Museum under Lisa Marei Schmidt, and Georg Kolbe Museum under Kathleen Reinhardt.
What fascinates you about Berlin?
Karl-Marx-Allee.
What’s one item you couldn’t live without?
If music were an object, then music. It drives me, helps me organise my thoughts, expands my imagination, and transforms my mood. In that sense, it is indispensable to me—less an object than a way of being fully present.
What keeps you going?
Hope.
Which personality would you like to have a conversation with—and what would you talk about?
Kendrick Lamar. I’d love to talk to him about the relationship between his art collection and his musical practice. One day, when I grow up, I’d like to curate an exhibition with him. (laughs)
What do you look forward to when your working day comes to an end?
My dreams.