In the end of october, we had the opportunity to take part at the Klanglicht festival. Very interesting for me thinking of my master theses, because it is an art installation, addressing the theme “rush” inside sacred architecture. I thought: Is this even accept or does it offend people because of the architecture that hold already layers of meaning, history, and emotions?
I think it’s a great way of letting young artists have the opportunity of showing their artwork in a place that is mostly unused. Maybe also a way to let people rethink their relationships with the church overall.
Until now/then, I had been circling around themes connected to religion, especially the visual world that surrounds it. But the more I worked on my Klanglicht installation, the clearer it became that my real interest lies somewhere deeper: in the growing distance between younger generations and the Church, and in the complex reasons behind this shift.
My team installation explored the theme of the forest and the ongoing tension between city and nature. So: how can we visualize the conflict between these two worlds? How can we make people feel the push and pull between the natural and the constructed, between chaos and control, stillness and noise?
During our design phase, we had mainly positive reactions to our concept. Our idea explored the conflict between city and nature, movement and stillness, and how shifting perspectives can create emotional resonance. We used light, color, distortion, and distance to communicate that tension. For a long time, we felt confident in our approach, but during the preparation phase, we received critiques which were notably more critical. The comments weren’t unkind — just different. They challenged our assumptions about what the piece was communicating and how viewers might interpret it differently than we intended.
At first, I must admit, it felt unsettling. After so much encouraging feedback, it’s easy to fall into a kind of creative comfort zone. You start to believe your concept is clear, your visuals strong, your message consistent. This moment reminded me how every perspective is shaped by personal experience, values, and expectations.
It reminded me that design and art are never universal — every viewer, every participant, brings their own background, experiences, and beliefs into the interpretation. Especially in our context, showing our work inside a church, the meaning of light, distance, and color becomes even more layered. What might seem purely aesthetic to one person can carry deep symbolic or emotional connotations for another.
The idea of conflict — not just between city and nature, but also between perception and intention — became something I kept thinking about afterward. It directly connected to the questions I’m exploring in my master’s thesis, where I deal with religion, faith, and representation.
I came to the conclusion that I wasn’t interested in analyzing religious symbols themselves. What truly fascinates me is the underlying emotional and cultural distance that so many people my age experience toward religion have. I have noticed this in conversations with friends, in social debates, even in how faith is portrayed in media. Many young people seem to separate belief from institution, or they turn away completely.
The contrast in feedback during our Klanglicht process helped me understand why this topic resonates so strongly with me. It showed me how multiple interpretations can coexist — none of them inherently right or wrong, but all influenced by lived experiences. This insight connects directly to my thesis: if I want to understand why young people distance themselves from religion, I need to approach the subject through dialogue, reflection, and openness, rather than fixed assumptions.
Looking back, I’m actually grateful for that critical feedback. It disrupted my confidence just enough to make me think deeper. I could re-examine my intentions and had the reminder that no creative work will ever be interpreted the same way by everyone. Understanding these and the dynamics is essential for my thesis. Rather than studying religious symbols, my work will investigate the inner landscapes of young people today: their doubts, their values, their frustrations, and their hopes. Just like in the installation, the goal for me now is not to provide definitive answers, but to create space for reflection.
Dissclaimer: AI was used here for a better wording