When we sat down with German conceptual artist Maximilian Prüfer, our conversation wandered from the microscopic movements of snails to the vast ecological systems on which all life depends. His answers reveal a practice shaped by patience, curiosity, and a constant dialogue with nature.


How did your way of working with nature begin?


It evolved gradually — from chance encounters, technical advances, and the right timing. Technical, philosophical, and aesthetic considerations are all intertwined: new possibilities open up new perspectives, which lead to new insights. These insights inspire aesthetic ideas — and vice versa. There’s no single moment that started it all, but rather an ongoing interplay between technology, ideas, and observing nature.


What draws you to the overlooked?

I’m fascinated by the edge of the visible — places where something may never have been shown before. Small movements and slow processes often lead to entirely new ways of seeing. Observing insects or other small creatures can reveal much larger patterns, like parallels between collective life forms in nature and human societies.


Your works often have a quiet, meditative quality. Where does that come from?

It’s linked to my own sensitivity — loud, fast stimuli can easily overwhelm me. This often creates a counterpoint to the world’s constant noise, but my real focus is on the essential: no distraction, no unnecessary ornament, just the pure movement and the story it reveals.

SNAIL SERIES by Maximilian Prüfer


How does sustainability shape your work?

It’s not a conscious concept, but it’s inherent in my process — from recycling materials in the studio to working sparingly. Most important to me is longevity. Many materials used in art degrade in just a few decades. I work with the mindset of a conservator, creating pieces designed to last.


How do you see the relationship between humans and nature?

For me, there is no true “relationship” — we are nature. Evolution doesn’t stop with cultural or technical development; culture itself is a form of adaptation. Whether city building, car design, hunting, or nest building — it’s all part of natural processes. The real question is whether our actions are sustainable in the long term.


What was your first impression of KAIA?

I was impressed by the craftsmanship — high-quality products designed to endure. The timeless design also speaks to me; for me, that too is a form of sustainability.

HIVE Installation, Vienna 2023


What stood out for you in the HIVE collaboration?


I loved how many different disciplines came together — from ecologists, entomologists, and beekeepers to artisans and installation specialists. Even the curatorial aspect of the museum presentation was part of this rich, multifaceted process.


HIVE combines honey and light in a striking way. Can you tell us more about that?

Honey, in many cultures, is a symbol of healing, medicine, and energy. In HIVE, moving light shines through it, evoking the swarm behaviour inside a beehive. It highlights the collective and reveals broader ecological connections — as well as the intersections between nature, culture, and community.


If we collaborated again, what would you like to create?

A lamp that captures the feeling of sitting under a leafy canopy, with sunlight filtering through. Most lamps mimic the unfiltered sun — like in a desert — but with careful shielding and colour choice, you can create entirely different atmospheres. The light in a forest calms me, and I’d love to bring that feeling into a lamp.


When do you feel most connected to nature?

When I have the time and mental stillness to engage with it through all my senses — usually in wild, untouched places. I also feel this connection in moments of self-awareness, when I understand myself as a vulnerable living being.

HIVE Installation, Vienna 2023