Deborah Nyst
Born 1981, lives and works in Ghent, Belgium.
She obtained a Master’s degree in Painting from LUCA School of Arts Ghent.
She works as a visual arts teacher in arts education and combines this with her autonomous practice as a visual artist.
Playfully searching for meaning
Throughout my life I have experienced several shocking events, the most profound being the death of my fourteen-year-old daughter Manon on February 1st, 2023.
Even before her passing, I was fascinated by human beings: how someone presents themselves, or chooses not to, how we deal with honesty, closeness, and vulnerability. I firmly believe in the power of vulnerability, and despite the deception I experienced, I never let go of that conviction. It only made me more curious about others, more driven to understand and to truly see.
This urge found its way into my paintings. I depict domestic scenes and portraits, trying to reveal the beauty of everyday life and of encounters. I also work on commission, always with the greatest possible freedom. The encounter forms the starting point — preferably in the sitter’s own environment. I observe, listen, take photographs, and later translate the impressions of that moment into paint in my studio. The sitter is presented with a mirror, coloured by our encounter.
After the death of my daughter, my work changed fundamentally. There are no lessons to be learned from such a loss, but it forces you to stand closer to yourself. Since December 2024, I have been creating a different kind of work, in which everything can gain meaning. Humour and self-relativity create breathing space; everything is ambiguous and multilayered.
In my more autonomous work, I now paint random objects, animals, or organic elements, often combined with second-hand frames. In this way, image and frame together acquire a new meaning. My works are watercolours on paper, behind glass: light, fragile, and transparent.
Titles play an important role. Sometimes humorous or poetic, sometimes with a wink or a play on words. I design them graphically on the back of the painting, giving each work literally two sides.
What moves me most is how people give meaning to my work. A robin reminds someone of her deceased brother; a great tit titled “You are not alone, we stand behind you” offers comfort to someone who has experienced loss. We are all searching for meaning. As Viktor Frankl wrote:
“Suffering ceases to be suffering at the moment it finds a meaning.”
Just as Morandi painted his quiet little pots in the midst of chaos, I want to paint in the midst of today’s confusion — with humour and colour. For me, humour is the ultimate weapon against everything that is happening.
Let me be the painter who brings people together and invites stories to be shared.
Who makes affordable art, so that my work can live among people.
Playing and connecting is my framework.
Meaning is my driving force.
And humour — that is my breath.