“House of Mirrors refers not only to the visual space created by mirror reflections but also metaphorically extends to the possibilities of self-construction and the enigma of identity in modern society.”
Text/Roxy Y. Tang
If Henni Alftan’s creative method has always revolved around reflecting the act of seeing, then in her solo exhibition “House of Mirrors,” she pushes the relationship between viewer and viewed, narrative language, and pictorial style into new dimensions of discussion. As the title suggests, “House of Mirrors” signifies not just the visual space of reflections, but also metaphorically suggests the expansive possibilities surrounding self-construction and the perplexities of identity in the modern world.
Within the “House of Mirrors,” the exhibition employs visual techniques like light and shadow, reflection, and superimposition to reinforce the theme of the “mirror image,” exploring the complex relationships between the individual and the external world, others, and time within a relatively detached, objective context. The mirror image is both a physical phenomenon and a metaphor for subjective memory. Like the two new works, Goodbye and Red Sky (both 2024), positioned at a slanted right angle to visitors at the entrance—whether depicting the delayed shadow of a waving farewell gesture (a visual phenomenon often seen in slow-motion film) or the soon-to-part figures separated by a mirror surface, one illusory and one real, one near and one far—they capture complex emotions adrift in time and space within a single frame through hazy symbolic gestures.
Through these two formally evocative paintings, which either overlap or oppose each other, Alftan compels viewers, from the very beginning of their visit, to confront their own mode of seeing—namely, the “layered experience of viewing” implicit in the paintings: we are simultaneously looking at the figures within the painting, looking outward through the figures’ perspective, and yet forced to ponder the reliability of the mirror image itself. This multi-layered viewing experience also imbues the works with philosophical depth.
1. In a Flat World, Think of the Sun and Moon Never Withering
In Longlati’s conversation with the artist, Henni Alftan discussed the influence of observation and reasoning on her work. Alftan’s pieces often dissolve narrative within the framework of figurative painting, stripping away details that point to individual language, allowing symbols and forms to carry universal meaning. In recent years, this method has reached new heights: her works stand at the boundary between observation and imagination, the body becomes a signifier, gestures turn into symbols, and the viewer becomes a collaborator in the image.
As the curatorial text notes, Alftan’s painting practice shares similarities with the tableau vivant. Just as performers in a tableau vivant remain still to create a dramatic scene, the gestures, postures, and scenes Alftan captures possess a similar stillness. Yet, this “stillness” is not silence, but a narrative mode that incubates tension within calm. For instance, in the triptych A Conversation (Between the Two) (2024), the two parties in the painting “converse” solely through gestures; the absent faces and fragmented context force the viewer to interpret by filling in the blanks of the image themselves. In the painting, two pairs of hands gesture almost argumentatively towards heaven and earth against a blank background, constituting a scene both intimate and alienated.
By omitting the facial expressions of the figures, Alftan focuses the viewer’s attention on the hand movements of the man and woman, intensifying the subjectivity and urgency of the “conversation.” This compositional technique, reminiscent of the interplay of black and white piano keys, not only conveys subtle emotional dynamics but also reveals the often-ineffable complexities of interpersonal communication. The untouched distance between the hands also seems to signify the psychological gap between them.
Henni Alftan is also highly skilled at extracting universal symbols from fragmented scenes of daily life, using flat application of paint, contrasting color blocks, and meticulously handled details as her core language. In her works, she juxtaposes observation and imagination, eschewing the realistic models or image references traditional painting relies on, instead starting from intuition and sketches, condensing abstract concepts into visualized visual symbols. This approach makes her paintings both immediate and playful, allowing viewers, through the light and simple perceptual touchpoints of the image, to gradually connect to deeper psychological and emotional impacts. For example, The Bay (Night View) (2024) takes a nighttime beach as its subject, the picture composed largely of color blocks like the faintly glowing shoreline and the dark shadows of distant mountains. The contrast of deep blue, ink-black, and dark umber shapes the unique silence and profundity of night, while a soft, beautiful line of waves becomes the visual focus guiding the viewer to unlock emotion and reverie. Simultaneously, this work forms a kind of coupled mirror relationship with the daytime scenes from Alftan’s New York exhibition, progressively exploring the poetics of time and space through the rhythm of viewing.
Alftan does not attempt to depict realistic nature, but rather to capture the emotion latent within natural scenes. By simplifying pictorial details, she allows the night scene to become an externalization of an inner world, reflecting the complex experience where solitude and tranquility intertwine.
Alftan’s creative process consistently revolves around “visual language”—that is, painting itself. She is not confined to refining local painting techniques but emphasizes the coherent meaning between every brushstroke and composition. This sensitivity to formal language helps her avoid elaborate ornamentation; she chooses to limit her color palette, creating subtle tonal variations through mixing, thereby achieving a restrained yet unified visual texture.
2. The Depths of Reflection and Myth: The Folded Edges of the House of Mirrors
Henni Alftan’s painting practice emphasizes the “generation” of images rather than their “creation.” She admits: “My images are not new. I didn’t really invent them; it’s as if they already existed.” This notion echoes the questions of “image reproduction” raised by Walter Benjamin in The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction. In the digital age, where images are generated and disseminated at an exponential rate, Alftan’s work, through its gaze and refinement of image fragments, offers a still and profound moment for reflection on contemporary modes of seeing.
The structure of the “house of mirrors” makes the viewer part of the picture: each work is like an independent mirror, and the entire exhibition resembles a labyrinth pieced together from countless reflections. The gentle winter light flows into the gallery from the windows overlooking the Suhe River, also maintaining a kind of parallel relationship with the urban landscape, further blurring the boundaries between the paintings and reality.
Furthermore, her meticulous handling of symbols and forms resonates with conceptual art’s concept: Born and raised in Helsinki, Alftan moved to France at 18 and has lived there since. In France, her painting has been influenced by American artists (like Milton Avery) and Italian painters (like de Chirico), reflecting a dual interest in immediacy and mystery; she has also drawn inspiration from conceptual and minimalist artists (like Baldessari and Fischer Wis), showing an exploration of artistic forms beyond traditional figurative painting; the use of gestures also brings to mind Sol LeWitt’s minimalist schematics; and so on.
Curtain IV (2022) continues Alftan’s fascination with near-far settings and fabric patterns. This painting features a draped curtain with contrasting color patterns, with soft daylight and distant mountains projected from outside the glass window. The curtain is both the stable, formalist protagonist of the picture and a barrier separating the viewer from the distant world outside the window. In this work, Alftan seems to explore themes of “concealment” and “behind-the-scenes.” The dividing line between the incredibly realistic texture of the curtain and the relatively distant external world becomes the viewer’s visual focus, while also making one aware that the concealed portion might be more (or less) important—regardless, this painterly treatment has successfully endowed a simple motif with multiple associative possibilities.
Henni Alftan’s work is both a continuation of modernist formal exploration and an integration of new ways of seeing and symbolic expression within a contemporary context. Her keen use of light, shadow, and spatial sensibility creates certain resonances with the lonely aesthetic of Edward Hopper, yet through minimalist composition and symbolic objects, she expresses a more abstract liminal world. Through the alternation of blur and clarity, she creates a visual experience that is both familiar and strange; this investigation into the act of “seeing” also responds to issues like advertising culture and identity construction in the digital age.
The exhibition “House of Mirrors” is naturally also a parable hinting at the multiple refractions possible between viewing and identity. The “house of mirrors” in its original fairground context denotes a space of real yet distorted visual experience, while in Alftan’s work, this concept is refined into a metaphor for the mode of seeing: the mirror image stems both from the external landscape and from inner scrutiny, much like in special effects films, making figures and plotlines difficult to discern amidst continuous mirror reflections.
Within the “House of Mirrors,” Alftan, through the combination of mirror images, light and shadow, and various details, transforms each painting into an independent narrative scene, while allowing the exhibition space as a whole to form an immersive experience. The key visual, The Spider (2023), displayed centrally in the gallery, shows a spider resting static under an upturned glass. The background is rendered in flat areas of blue-green and grey-white, creating a stark contrast with the spider’s black form. The spider appears large, yet it is firmly framed within a sealed-off microcosm, no longer fearsome but even somewhat lonely and desperate, situated in a vacuum. This painting is not merely a formal design of an image scene; it is a metaphor for the existence of the creator, and indeed of individuals in society—the image of the spider in art history often carries multiple symbolic meanings: both weaver of fate and lurking threat. But in this work, Alftan, through the stillness of the image, creates an indescribable, breathless moment, inviting viewers to reflect on the contradictory psychology of simultaneous fear and attraction that often accompanies viewing.
The “House of Mirrors” encourages viewers to engage in free interpretative exploration while retaining the works’ highly visually appealing forms. Behind the calm surfaces surge the eternal propositions of artistic creation: the everyday and the fantastical, the familiar and the strange, simple forms and complex meanings. Henni Alftan says she hopes to further simplify and clarify her stylistic approach in the future, pursuing greater purity in form and expression, reducing complexity to achieve more direct communication. It can be said that her paintings merge meticulous observation, unique ideas, and profound reflection on painting itself. This focus ensures her work is both contemporary and everyday, capable of carrying universal human emotions and life experiences.
*This commissioned article was originally published on Longlati Foundation × Suhe Haus (12-24-2024)
Yuting (Roxy) TANG 