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exhibitions shows ( selection)




"Arcoiris" is a Spanish word meaning "rainbow", but literally translated it would be more accurate to say "to see the bow in the eye". It is an installation of nearly 600 bones painted in watercolours. An extract from Russana's work diary gives an insight into how she came to create this work: 


".... I went to the room where the spiritual world and I meet. After the period of dark nights, after I had already started working on Bergamo, I wanted to see something bright, to work on something that did not contain night. Maybe to find a balance? I don't know anymore. So I said to the room, "Show me something white," and then I saw them in the distance. White arches with coloured rings in bright colours. At first glance it looked like a rainbow. I liked it very much. When I got closer, I saw that the white arches were made of bones.“


Amelie Russana describes herself as a medium who is shown her work in various forms, including, in the case of Arcoiris, a white spirit-soaked room. She then translates the works she sees in these visions and the experiences she has there into artistic works and makes them accessible to the viewer. Depending on the vision, she chooses to translate it in the form of painting, performance or installation.

Information about the exhibition: 

Due to the fragility of the works, you can visit the exhibition at any time by appointment at


THE ARTIST NIGHTDREAM, was of soft Blackness


Detail of THE ARTIST NIGHTDREAM, was of soft Blackness", charcoal and pastel on paper, 3 m x 13 m, 2023

"To get to the light, you must first cross the darkness. Beyond is a place of constant rebirth.

Did you know that a shooting star consists of one big star and a thousand smaller ones? Did the creator of this universe capture the shooting star or did she want to throw it into the darkness? 


She gave birth to a child between her legs. The newborn plays with the moon. In her right hand the creator holds a staff that can create water. 

She sits in the middle of the jungle where plants and women live. They, women and girls, wear masks and are naked. Some faces can be recognized.


Like pollen, new stars, moons and planets sprout from the flowers of the jungle plants.


A waterfall cascades down from above. A snake follows the stream.


A pregnant woman prances through the jungle and over the water. She carries a child in her belly, soon to be born. In her heart lie three more children. She will give birth to them later in her life. 


Fireflies accompany her as she approaches a black door. Where does this door lead? 


A wall frieze has been created around the door. This tells of the phases of the moon and the physical love of women. 


Extinguished stars lie in jars. 


The snake slides out of the picture. 


Three galaxies dance ecstatically. Their bodies cast shadows into the darkness. Hanging from one of the dancers, strung from stars, is a skeleton trying to reach for a star. 


A curtain of bones begins to open. The snake slithers peacefully and silently between it.


Flowers and leaves grow up into a crescent moon.  


In this great world of black and white sits a woman who dreams of everything. She wears a mask of blue paper feathers and dreams this world again, again and again" 


Amelie Russana

Information: Due to the fragility of the works, you can visit the exhibition at any time by appointment at / The performance for the drawing will take place daily


Self-portrait as a medium of art, watercolor on paper, 120 x 90 cm, 2022

Bergamo -The painting of the pandemic-

Destroyed human lives and families, never-ending grief and loneliness. No one will ever forget the convoys of military trucks that brought the dead out of the city of Bergamo. A loving and dignified farewell was not possible in the hour of death. Bergamo became the symbol of the pandemic. Therefore, like Picasso painted Guernica at the time, I decided to create a painting that takes on Bergamo and thus the pandemic. 


My works are created in cooperation with the spiritual world. They showed me what Bergamo meant and I painted it. Here is an excerpt from my diary from 2020:


"I took myself to my room. everything is black I can only see me. No above, no below. Then I said: Show me what Bergamo means. A field of dahlias came towards me. A big field. At first glance it looks beautiful at night. A spell. Those big flowers and the blue night. Only then do I notice that almost everything has dried up and the flowers have broken off. A field between flowering and death. Between. Something flickers between the flowers. I can't tell. It flashes violently in front of the eyes. I can't resolve this. For days I see this flash between the flowers. Then I pull it apart and a new picture of Bergamo emerges. Large and small, thick and thin, fully blooming dahlias float past me. I have to think of the Styx. These are the ones gone and the first image of the withered field is the here and now. The work can begin."

The first painting twin, Bergamo 1, is currently on display until July 24th. The second twin will then follow until the end of the exhibition on September 11, 2022.