Roland Stratmann

At the core of his works are what he calls “travelled postcards”: previously sent pieces of mail, marked by handwriting and daily use – small-scale records of human interaction and memory. They function as both visual relics and narrative vessels. Sourced from around the world, these postcards form the foundation of his work – in both a literal and metaphorical sense. Their creases, messages, stamps, and ambiguities are not concealed, but deliberately preserved and integrated. Some words are legible, others cryptic – inviting interpretation. These postcards blend past and present, personal and collective, documentation and composition.

On top of this base, Stratmann draws a second layer:

Ink-based interpretations of culturally and historically rich motifs – precisely rendered, yet translucent, allowing the visual memory beneath to remain visible. Stratmann chooses his references carefully: Lucas Cranach’s Adam and Eve, or Albrecht Dürer’s Rhinoceros – icons of art history, thoughtfully reimagined.

A third level runs through the works typographically:

Fragments of messages – sometimes laconic, sometimes ironic, always multi-layered. Those who read between the lines begin to see connections between the postcard content and visual composition. It’s here that the titles of his works begin to emerge.

The piece Couples – Like Always refers to a Renaissance painting by Lucas Cranach depicting Adam and Eve, as well as a 1950s photograph by Eliot Elisofon showing a couple from the Boende tribe in what is now the Democratic Republic of Congo. Two couples from vastly different cultures are placed in juxtaposition – challenging habitual ways of seeing and opening space for reflection on proximity and distance, the familiar and the foreign. Across eras, geographies, and visual planes, the viewer enters into a quiet dialogue – carried, quite literally, by the subdued static of postcards that hint at stories without fully revealing them. Out of this suspension, another dialogue begins – between the artwork and the viewer’s imagination.

In Dilemma, Stratmann takes this dialogue to an interactive level:

As part of an interdisciplinary project exploring crisis and design, residents of a suburb in Hamburg were invited to write postcards about personal experiences of crisis. The result: a kaleidoscope of handwritten reflections and observations that form the conceptual and visual basis of the piece.

In the foreground: an oversized ink drawing – a reimagining of Dürer’s Rhinoceros, the famed armored creature sent to the Pope in 1515, which sank en route to Rome and survived only as a woodcut that went on to circulate around the globe. Today, the rhinoceros is critically endangered.

Set against the layered voices of the postcards, Stratmann’s drawing becomes an homage to diversity – of species, of perspectives, of what moves and matters to us. Across the piece, a line of text reads:

“Viele Grüße an alle, die nach mir fragen“ – “Best regards to everyone asking about me.”

It’s a subtle, humane message – and a reminder that Stratmann’s work is a living archive of memory and meaning. You just have to look closely.

What happens when knowledge disappears?

In a series of postcard-based sets, Stratmann returns to the themes of impermanence and species extinction. Each postcard becomes a protagonist in its own right: on the message side, a naturalistic animal drawing paired with a bold text. The word, translated into the language of the card’s origin, reads “Guest” or “Visitor.” Observant viewers will find links between recipient, message, and motif – a quiet tribute to curiosity and to all that too easily fades from view.

That Stratmann works with postcards is no coincidence.

He uses them as communicative bridges – as entry points into how we understand the world.

“Every postcard sent carries a personal message into the world – and at the same time becomes part of our shared history and collective memory.”

In the handwritten traces he sees a “woven image-texture revealing the cosmos of human creativity.” And in their combined voices: a polyphonic archive of nature, culture, and time.

His work lives in this multiplicity – and from it.

He is an artist of precision, not fragility. His lines are intentional, his imagery unmistakable: never loud, but impossible to ignore. His works quietly demand attention – for what was, what is, and what risks being lost if we fail to see it.