RaadplegingHij vouwde zijn handen en sloot zijn ogen. Even zou je denken dat hij aan het bidden was. Dat was hij ook. Dit zijn momenten waarop hij geruststelling wil, advies vraagt, een weg vraagt. Het is de stilte van zijn ademhaling die de intensiteit van de correspondentie bewijst. Het zijn niet de antwoorden die hij zal krijgen. Het zijn eerder zijn vragen die licht brengen in zijn gedachten. Het is zijn ziel waartoe hij zal spreken. Het zal zijn geest zijn die zijn stappen steviger zal maken. Het is de kunst van het reflecteren.
Fragment uit het boek "SOULBURN".
ConsultationHe folded his hands and closed his eyes. For a moment you would have thought he was praying. He was. These are moments when he wants reassurance, asks for advice, asks for a way. It is the stillness of his breathing that proves the intensity of the correspondence. It is not the answers he will receive. Rather, it is his questions that bring light to his thoughts. It is his soul to which he will speak. It will be his spirit that will make his steps firmer. It is the art of reflection.
Excerpt from the book "SOULBURN

photography in a different evolution - painting in personal style

 what should always remain: the origin

- more than photography - images that tell stories -


  Art is living what you burn for. It is not only enough to have the will, but also the ability to do it

Art. The most beautiful thing man can create. Art is diversity, infinite creativity, inexhaustible imagination. Art is what a human being lives. Whether he creates it or experiences it. Art on the wall of a house. The one over there, he creates it and the one over there, she looks at the work. Lets himself be taken in by his art, lets himself be pulled along by it. A sculpture. An image of a person. Not just a copy. She has variations, draws out characteristics, situations of her life. The artist wants to tell me a story. His work has a meaning. I am supposed to fathom it, to see it. He wants me to rejoice, to grieve. He wants me to live his work, to hear a story. Art speaks, in all languages. Everyone understands it. Anyone who has an open mind, who engages with the story. You have to be able to see art. It does the rest, it does it with you. Many artists, many works are not seen. Not because they are not good, not beautiful. They simply get lost. They get lost in the crowd, in the whirlpool of time, in the speed of life. Many young artists hardly have a chance to be seen. If they are not shrill, if they do not shout at their audience, hardly anyone hears their wonderful work, their gentle voices. We live in a time when extroversion seems to be a basic building block of success. Loud artists often make quick art. When one is finished, you start a new one. A new one with a shout. The quiet ones are the ones whose connection to their own work never breaks. It remains forever on the easel of their thoughts. In their space of completion. Art is simply multifaceted. There is something for everyone.
Only, you have to recognise it.

My professional roots are in technical and media business management. I worked in film, radio and for numerous well-known print media from politics, art & culture. Art has accompanied me since my childhood. For a while, I didn't live it the way I should have. At some point, during a dark phase, I thought a lot of my two old mentors and changed everything.
Painting & photography finally defined my life again.

It is a thought, a feeling or a hunch that leads me to a motif. Sometimes it's something else, a fence post hammering against my head. But there is always the hope of creating a wow effect and of succumbing to it myself. Every motif is beautiful, not all find their way onto a medium. Photography is a passion. Painting is what I love. Every motif is me, is my life. A story from my life. 

Nicolas von Jahn-Burian
TheArtof.STUDIO
Nicolas studied media management alongside his art. But art is what he lives for. | Nicolas studeerde mediamanagement naast zijn kunst. Maar kunst is waar hij voor leeft.

TheArtof.MEDIA 

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The dust that settled on the bottles in your wine cellar. We had to sneeze. First me, then you. Then both of us. If we could have seen through your daughter's eyes, we would have seen each other. We would have seen two friends who didn't have to talk much, who could laugh all the more, and even a quiet moment could mean more communication. We called it: enjoymentAn old friend, he has gone. You knew what a hole you would tear in my soul when this moment came. Forever my mentor, my Chefredakteur.Forever MY FRIEND.