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In recent years, the painterly worlds of Danish artist Laust Højgaard, and his inherent protagonists have evolved from rather static, almost comic-like creatures that eked out their existence in the frame of the canvas to dynamic figures reminiscent of the futuristic paintings of Umberto Bocciono. The energetic brushstrokes, the forward-driven, simultaneous movements of the figures, which still defy with strength but have become more organic in their form, give the impression that the picture itself no longer represents a limit for them. They free themselves from their stasis and enter a battle against each other for space and visibility.
Laust Højgaard’s second solo exhibition FABLE AND FLESH at Galerie Droste, delves into the tension between our physical presence and the emotional complexity that often conflicts with how we wish to be seen. While we strive to project strength and pride, embodying an image of unshakable, organic force, our inner lives are fragile, multifaceted, and sometimes elusive. This struggle not only reflects personal dissonance but also echoes historical and mythical representations of humanity caught between the ideals of power and the reality of vulnerability.
The exhibition addresses our own relationship to other people and to reality, but also the inner conflict between our physical and mental selves. Højgaard’s works challenge us to confront the fragmentation between our self-perception and the image we project, and to reconsider the reciprocal relationship between external influences and internal tension.
Previous interviews with Laust can be read here and here.
Exhibition text by Katharina Gallade.
Profile photo by Luis Bortt.
Interview by Rubén Palma.
Hi Laust, It’s always a pleasure sitting down with you. Firstly, what’s your inspiration behind this new body of work?
Laust: Likewise. At its core, I’m exploring the tension between fantasy and reality. If I had to boil it down, maybe it’s also a kind of tribute to escapism.
And did you do any form of specific research for these new works?
Laust: I collect all sorts of things on an ongoing basis—mostly photographs of animals and people caught in moments that feel emotionally ambiguous to me. There’s usually some kind of interaction going on between them and something or someone else. I pin these images up around my studio, so I come across them naturally as I work. I don’t use them directly when painting, but they form part of my surroundings and mindset.
The title for the show is FABLE AND FLESH. How did that come about? And what’s the story behind the title?
Laust: I was looking for something that felt contradictory—something that could cover the mythical on one hand, and something raw, physical, and tangible on the other. FABLE AND FLESH captured that duality for me.
With that in mind… FABLE and FLESH seems to suggest a tension between the mythic or symbolic and the deeply human. How do you see these two sides interacting in your work?
Laust: To me, it’s about ideals—what we strive for as thinking beings. There’s this kind of unreachable utopia we aim for, but we’re held back by our physical limitations and the conditions we live in. It ties into this culture of perfection—these ideals refined over thousands of years that we keep chasing, without ever truly arriving.
Your figures have evolved from static, comic-like beings to more dynamic and fluid entities. What influenced this shift in style? Was it a gradual transition or a conscious decision?
Laust: I follow my curiosity. I think I had a strong urge to breathe more life into the characters—to set them in motion. They still live in the same universe, but they’ve stepped into a kind of self-inflicted storm that tosses them around. At the moment, everything feels more weightless and airy, interwoven with the solid, heavy forms that have long been central to my work. That weight is still present—it’ll likely return more strongly again. It’s all connected.
There’s a sense of motion and transformation in these new works—almost like the figures are pushing against the canvas. Can you talk about your relationship to the physical limits of the frame and how that plays into the narrative tension?
Laust: It’s a feeling I’m trying to explore and describe. There’s a sense of claustrophobia and a desire to break free—but at the same time, there’s something deeply comforting about it.
With that in mind, what role does movement play for you now in painting?
Laust: The characters are doing something—they’re caught in a moment, mid-action. They’re all in some kind of struggle—either with each other or with themselves.
Your characters seem to be caught in moments of transformation or conflict. Are they extensions of the self, or do they represent broader human conditions?
Laust: That conflict is definitely something I experience myself. The longing for a sense of freedom and lightness, constantly weighed down by time, space, and my surroundings. It creates this ongoing tension—this buzzing, anxious energy. But I don’t think I’m alone in feeling that.
There’s an interesting duality in the show—between strength and vulnerability, projection and inner truth. Can you tell me about that? And how do you negotiate that tension when constructing a figure?
Laust: It’s an ongoing theme I keep coming back to. The outer physicality that appears strong, and the fragile inner life—how the two affect each other and give rise to these physical “distortions” that become both symptom and symbol.
In a time where digital identity is often curated and performative, do you see your work as a response to this kind of dissonance?
Laust: I think this fragmentation has always been there. It’s not something that came with the digital age—it’s just been put on steroids now.
There’s this beautiful line in the text about the “struggle between how we wish to be seen and our inner emotional complexity.” Is this something personal for you? Tell me about that.
Laust: It’s very personal. It’s about the pressure—from ourselves and from society—to perform on so many levels at once. That’s why my characters are falling apart. It’s a visual metaphor for a kind of overload that starts in our minds—at least in mine.
Your brushstrokes are more energetic than ever—what’s changed in your process?
Laust: I don’t think my overall process has changed drastically, but I do start my works more violently and abstractly now. I try to navigate through the imagery using intuition rather than planning. I’ve probably said this before, but I imagine my artistic development as a kind of main track I keep zigzagging across. Every time I go to an extreme, I bring something back with me and feed it into the main track.
How do you know when a figure or a painting is “done,” especially when so much of the energy seems to come from their tension and movement?
Laust: Honestly, it’s not easy. It often goes wrong. It’s something I keep practicing. Letting intuition take the lead doesn’t make it easier either. I don’t have a checklist—so when I feel like a piece is finished, I usually let it sit around for a few weeks. That gives it the chance to reveal its flaws or missing pieces. I can’t always see those right away, so I try to be disciplined about giving them that space.
Your palette feels noticeably lighter in this new series. Can you talk about your approach to color—what led to these choices?
Laust: I actually removed black from my palette completely. I needed to take it away because it’s so absolute—and I was curious about what might be hiding underneath it. That decision opened up a new kind of play for me. It made me even more curious, and like everything else in my process, it’s really about letting that curiosity lead the way.
This is your second solo at Galerie Droste. How has your relationship with the gallery shaped your work or confidence as an artist?
Laust: I’ve come to trust my own processes more. I’m starting to recognize certain patterns and rhythms that I can actually use constructively. Like, I know there’s always a phase where I hate everything and it’s all shit. Being aware of that helps. I build in a time buffer now—so I can hate my work in peace before coming back to it with a more rational eye.
What are you currently curious about in your practice? Where do you feel the figures might go next?
Laust: Right now, I’m really drawn to the balance between intuition and clear storytelling. There’s so much tension in that space, and I love getting lost in it. When the two meet, unexpected stories emerge—and that sense of discovery is what keeps me going.