Paul Riedmüller on the Connection Between Art and Technology

In his first solo exhibition in Bulgaria, Vienna-based artist Paul Riedmüller will exhibit a new series of paintings that inhabit a digital but still deeply human world. The works begin their existence on a computer screen, constructed from found images, AI-generated material, and photos, which he slowly reworks into physical paintings through a process that is a reflection of his intuition, labour, and obsession with the medium of painting.  

What emerges is a quiet, unexpected kind of beauty - not loud or obvious, but something you notice slowly, in the small details, repeated forms, or in a representation of a feeling of a moment that feels familiar. A Balancing act of the recognizable with the surreal, the show reflects on how digital and physical worlds can potentially blur their borders, and how meaning and beauty can resurface in unexpected places.

The exhibition is part of the fifth edition of the FIG. Illustration and Graphic Arts Festival, and shortly before the opening of “As You Wish“ on June 11th at PUNTA Gallery (37 Stefan Stambolov Blvd.), Valko Chobanov talks with Paul Riedmüller about the creative process, intuition, and artificial intelligence as a collaborator.

Last year, you participated in the FIG festival as part of the show Sugar Whip and Bread, organized by Soybot, a Vienna-based micro publishing house and risograph printing studio. Can you tell me more about your involvement with Soybot and the FIG festival? 

We did a group show inside a glass cube in an underground station — not the easiest location to work with, but I think we pulled it off really well. It was great because lots of random passersby engaged with the work, not just an art audience. My contribution was a series of 20 landscape paintings based on AI-generated images. I hung them overlapping, like windows on a computer screen, to subtly reference the digital origin of the imagery.

This year, you are returning to Sofia again as part of the FIG festival, with a solo show in PUNTA gallery. The theme of the FIG festival this year is How We Work Together. Does the topic resonate with your creative process? 

I’ve collaborated a lot in the past, but these days I spend more time working alone in the studio. My process has become more introspective — but still, conversations with friends and colleagues really shape my thinking and lead then to my decisions. So the topic doesn't fully match my current way of working. To be honest, my biggest collaborator right now is A

PUNTA is located in the area of the Women's Market, which you had the opportunity to visit last year. Will the location shape the direction of your exhibition?

Definitely! I actually went trough my photo gallery from last years visit. I love the market vibe — it has this raw, invisible aesthetic. I remember badly printed, stretched images at a butcher shop, or a truck covered in fruit stickers like kill marks on a warplane.

Art can feel distant in that context — it’s all about surviving, earning, getting food. But I believe everyone has their own taste, their own idea of what counts as art. That’s something I think about when planning the work for PUNTA.

Your work plays with layers of images, stretched or blurred, sometimes even on top of a transparent Photoshop layer. You often paint texturless 3d renders. Creating work that embraces the fact that digital tools were involved in its creation. What part of the process is done on a computer before you start painting? What is your software of choice in this process? Do you prefer the analog or digital approach? 

Most of my paintings start with a digital sketch — made from photos, screenshots, 3D models, or Images I find online. I use Photoshop and Blender a lot. The digital collage is like a blueprint, but I’m always thinking about how to bring that into the physical world. I focus on the small details that make the digital image feel interesting. Painting it by hand gives the image a kind of weight — it becomes something that matters.

When you paint found images, do you select them based on a fascination with the visual qualities of the image, or are there some symbolic meanings that motivate your selection?  

There’s usually not one clear reason — it’s more intuitive. Some images stay on my computer for a long time before I know how to use them. Sometimes it’s the challenge that makes something worth painting. But when I combine images, symbolic meaning always comes in, even if it’s not planned from the beginning. It just happens as I work with them.

You often paint metapaintings based on painting-related iconography. Paint brushes with pallets and even Trompe-l'œil openings in the canvas, revealing the wooden stretcher underneath it. In exploring this ontology of painting with paintings, how do you avoid it being read as a purely ironic self-referential gesture? 

Honestly, I’m not sure I completely avoid it — and maybe I don’t need to. The self-referential stuff isn’t meant to be just ironic, but I also don’t try to neutralize that ambiguity. Painting brushes, stretcher bars, or Trompe-l'œil openings is a way of thinking through painting by painting. It’s not about making a clever statement — it’s more like staying in conversation with the medium, with how it works, how it’s been seen, and how I relate to it now. If there’s irony in that, it’s mixed with care and curiosity. I guess it’s less about distance and more about getting close.

Most of your artistic output is paintings that the majority of your audience sees on a phone screen. They are on an Instagram feed, flanked by Temu ads and dogs in cool outfits. Can you tell me more about navigating this attention economy hellscape successfully as a painter?

That’s actually something I think about a lot — and also experience like everyone else. Most people see my work on a phone, surrounded by fail videos, Temu ads, or a dog in sunglasses. But I don’t mind that context. I think the paintings hold up. Even on a small screen, it’s still visible that they’re handmade, that there’s time and intention behind them. But there’s this sentence by Michel Majerus I always think about: “A thing only exists once. That’s why every second encounter is always just a memory of the first.” That line really stuck with me.

It becomes a problem when everything you see only reminds you of the small screen — when nothing feels like a first encounter anymore.

“As You Wish“ by Paul Riedmueller is at PUNTA Gallery (37 Stefan Stambolov Blvd.) from June 11th to 30th. The exhibition opens on June 11th at 6:00 PM.

The exhibition is FIG 5  festival for illustration and graphics and is realised with the financial support of the National Culture Fund, Austrian Cultural Forum Sofia, the Ministry of Culture, and is part of the cultural calendar of Sofia Municipality, section “Significant Events.” (Bulgaria)  and Bombay Sapphire.