Defiant Naivety – A Quiet Rebellion in My Art

“Beach House With Yellow Sky”, 80 × 60 cm, acrylic on canvas, 2022.

Every artist is driven by something different. Some artists have a strong political agenda, while others aim to challenge the very definition of art. For me, the goal has not always been so clear. But there is a term I recently coined that captures the essence of my artistic approach: defiant naivety. This phrase helps me define what I do and why I do it. In this post, I want to explore what defiant naivety means to me—both as an idea and as a guiding principle in my art.

What I Mean by Defiant Naivety

“Two Lifeguard Towers”, 80 × 80 cm, acrylic on canvas, 2022.

I first started using the term defiant naivety a year or two ago, but the essence of it has been present in my art for much longer—perhaps ten years or more. In a time when so much contemporary art is about provocation, critique, or intellectual complexity, my paintings offer something different: a sanctuary. They create a space of calm, light, and joy, yet also contain a dreamy longing—an invitation into a parallel universe where nothing can reach you.

My motifs—a beach house, a golf course, a lifeguard tower—exist in reality, yet in my paintings, they transcend the everyday. They are stripped of chaos, preserved in a world of vibrant colors and geometric serenity. In this way, my work is a quiet but deliberate act of resistance: a defiant tribute to light, color, and the kind of dreamy innocence that dares to exist in a complex world.

Feeling Like an Outsider at the Academy

To be naive is often associated with ignorance or immaturity. And for a long time, I internalized that perspective, especially during my years at the art academy. I remember vividly how, in my first year, we were asked to write an artist statement. I tried to express my dreamy longing and my urge to connect with worlds beyond through my art. But when I read my statement aloud in class, there was silence. I felt like an utter outsider.

Everyone else had written highly intellectual statements, dense with art-historical references and elaborate theoretical arguments. Mine felt almost embarrassing in comparison. For the three years I survived at the academy, I wrestled with an internal battle—one part of me wanting to conform to the dominant discourse, the other part longing to rebel and stay true to my instincts.

“Beach House”, 80 × 60 cm, acrylic on canvas, 2013.

A Quiet Goodbye: The Beach House and My Artistic Rebellion

When I painted my first beach house in 2013, I was on the verge of leaving the academy to pursue art on my own terms. At first, I was drawn to the structure’s geometric simplicity, the interplay of light and shadow, and the bold colors of its surroundings. Only later did I realize that this painting was more than just an aesthetic exploration—it was a quiet but unmistakable act of defiance.

Looking back, I see that painting the beach house was a turning point. It was my way of saying goodbye to an environment that had felt stifling to me and my artistic vision. My rebellion was not loud, not confrontational—but it was real. And it would come to define much of my later work.

At the academy, I had absorbed the unspoken rule that art should not be beautiful for beauty’s sake. Terms like decorative art and pleasing art were used condescendingly to dismiss anything that was visually enjoyable, as if art that people simply liked was unworthy. There was a strong resistance to anything that had commercial potential or aesthetic appeal without a conceptual or political agenda.

I struggled in that environment. My paintings—created not to provoke, but to capture something beautiful—felt impossible to cultivate there. In fact, I created disturbingly few paintings during my time at the academy, despite being a full-time art student. The pressure to intellectualize everything drained my creative energy.

Leaving the academy was not just about walking away from an institution—it was about reclaiming my artistic instincts. At first, I did not consciously embrace defiant naivety. It came gradually, as I reconnected with my own artistic desires and allowed myself to paint without justifying my choices in theoretical terms.

Defiant Naivety Today: An Artistic Philosophy

“Shelter in The Dunes”, 80 × 80 cm, acrylic on canvas, 2022.

Over the past few years, my understanding of defiant naivety has deepened. The fact that I only recently coined the term reflects an ongoing maturation in my approach. This way of working has now become second nature to me, though I still experience moments of self-doubt—especially when entering more "culturally refined" settings, such as certain galleries or art fairs.

Yet, I have also developed a strong counterforce: a deep insistence on staying true to my artistic vision and integrity. I believe that some of the most significant art in history has emerged from a sense of rebellion or resistance against the status quo. In that sense, I see my defiant naivety as fitting neatly into the contemporary art scene—not as a mainstream voice, but as a devoted outsider, offering something different.

Importantly, my commitment to this aesthetic is not an accident. Unlike artists who create "pleasing" art without much thought, my choice is deliberate. It has come at a cost, but it is a choice I stand by wholeheartedly.

Why We Need Art That Provides Sanctuary

Today, I believe more than ever that art like mine—art that provides visual and emotional sanctuaries—has an important place in the world. Not because we should ignore political discourse or avoid engaging with reality, but because we also need spaces to pause. In a world that often feels harsh, chaotic, and overwhelming, we need enchanted moments that remind us of beauty, light, and the quiet magic that still exists.

So I will continue to be defiantly naive.