Contemporary Artist | Renjie Wang

Portfolio

Unlucky or lucky

oil colors on canvas
20 cm x 20 cm
2026

Broken home

a part of a diptych
oil colors on canvas
60 cm x 90 cm
2026

The diptych consists of two contrasting door images. The left one shows an unknown, broken door at night. Faded graffiti, drawings, and brown tape hold the cracks of the glass together. My first thought upon seeing it was: “broken family.”

The right image depicts door number 5 in the old town near the Kunstakademie Düsseldorf. It was a cool, mild autumn day — or maybe late summer, I’m no longer quite sure. Something about the door caught my attention. In that moment, everything seemed to come together into a calm, almost peaceful scene: the light breeze on my face, scattered yellow-brown leaves on the cobblestones, the quiet sounds of the alley.
“A beautiful door,” I thought.

Weeks later, my thoughts kept returning to the idea of home. What does it mean to have one?
Not just in the present, but also in relation to the past — every home carries traces of its history, shaping who we are, how we see the world, and even who we become. I chose to put these two doors together deliberately, to let them speak to each other.

Unimaginable, almost unfamiliar, inhumane conditions exist in some homes — and they likely always will. These experiences leave marks, deep traces in the way we perceive ourselves and the world. With this diptych, I hope to reach those people, inviting them to reflect on their own lives. Perhaps it can shed light on familiar wounds, while also showing that the present is not determined by the past. It is malleable, and in the end, in our hands — to accept it, shape it, and make it ours.
And with this, another question arises:
Which home do I want to create?

Coming home

a part of a diptych
oil colors on canvas
50 cm x 70 cm
2025

The diptych consists of two contrasting door images. The left one shows an unknown, broken door at night. Faded graffiti, drawings, and brown tape hold the cracks of the glass together. My first thought upon seeing it was: “broken family.”

The right image depicts door number 5 in the old town near the Kunstakademie Düsseldorf. It was a cool, mild autumn day — or maybe late summer, I’m no longer quite sure. Something about the door caught my attention. In that moment, everything seemed to come together into a calm, almost peaceful scene: the light breeze on my face, scattered yellow-brown leaves on the cobblestones, the quiet sounds of the alley.
“A beautiful door,” I thought.

Weeks later, my thoughts kept returning to the idea of home. What does it mean to have one?
Not just in the present, but also in relation to the past — every home carries traces of its history, shaping who we are, how we see the world, and even who we become. I chose to put these two doors together deliberately, to let them speak to each other.

Unimaginable, almost unfamiliar, inhumane conditions exist in some homes — and they likely always will. These experiences leave marks, deep traces in the way we perceive ourselves and the world. With this diptych, I hope to reach those people, inviting them to reflect on their own lives. Perhaps it can shed light on familiar wounds, while also showing that the present is not determined by the past. It is malleable, and in the end, in our hands — to accept it, shape it, and make it ours.
And with this, another question arises:
Which home do I want to create?

Tián diăn

oil colors on canvas
30 cm x 30 cm
2025

tián diăn represent a Chinese cuisine, encompassing a wide variety of shapes, forms, and regional styles. They are typically made from grains, beans, fruits, nuts, and other natural ingredients. These sweets are known for their subtle flavors and diverse textures. While often gently sweet, certain varieties also incorporate savory elements. From their early development during the Han, Tang, and Song dynasties to their refinement in the Qing dynasty, Chinese desserts have evolved through centuries of cultural exchanges, craftsmanship, and culinary innovations, leaving a rich tradition behind that still continues to evolve in our present times.

Sympathy for an unknown Man

oil colors on canvas
45 cm x 45 cm
2025

There was a time when you would still come to my mind, as if my feelings were quietly reaching out for you. Like stretching my hands into the dark, only to pull them back again, trying to shake off that feeling. Was it your appearance? Or perhaps your questioning sense of self? You seemed so confident, and yet, somehow, so conflicted. There were moments when you looked unsure of yourself. Your gaze lost, almost hollow, lacking in conscience. Your voice often sounded restrained, but still gentle, as if you were searching for comfort in the spaces between your words. Sometimes you would return to that warm, open version of yourself, calm and inviting, smiling. Other times, it was your fragile, childlike self that showed through, sensitive, quietly aching, or so I assumed. And then, just as I looked at you with sympathy in my eyes, your ambition would arise, and your gaze would sharpen. Clear, focused, maybe even cold. I suppose that’s what made you kind of magnetic to me. I was holding on to that warm, precious side of yours, amidst the glass castle you built yourself. It did pull me in, closer, like a moth to a lamp. After all these restless thoughts, maybe what I really want to say is this: Take care of yourself, don’t lose that side of yours. It would be a shame.

At Home

oil colors on canvas
50 cm x 60 cm
2025

This corner of my home consists of many things that are very dear to me: a tower of books, of which I haven’t read even half of them. Not all of them are store-bought — some were gifted on special occasions, others were found on the streets. What’s sitting beside me is actually a real still life, which I arranged many weeks ago with the reason of painting it — but it never happened, until now. On the left side is my stone coffee table. A small table, yet so heavy — I still remember how determined I was to get it home, across the train station, sweating, up and down the staircase. On the floor lies my green carpet — a carpet that was a bit too much for my budget, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the lovable little details of animals, trees, flowers, and rivers.

Stern, Stern, Delphin und Schmetterling

oil colors on canvas
40 cm x 50 cm
2025

While painting this piece, I was thinking about the theme “childhood.” There are many things that can remind someone of their childhood — the star stickers that glow softly in the room at night, random playful stickers on the door frame, cherished stuffed animals, or even a favorite blanket still tucked away somewhere, kept well into adulthood. I’m not sure about you, but after hearing and getting to know both the beautiful and the more difficult stories from that time, I’ve realized how significant and vulnerable that phase is for a child, especially in how one grows into adulthood. How certain misconceptions from the past can become deeply ingrained in a person’s mind. How some scars, recurring conflicts, or strained relationships can shape one’s identity, thoughts, and emotions as an adult. In short: the way they see their world. When I hear those stories, my stomach feels heavy. It’s like a quiet battle between their mind and body. Making many descisions or even no descisions at all, out of fear. Some might believe that they are simply “not good enough.” And if this inner turmoil becomes louder, one might even begin to question “what’s the point of their existence?” I would hate to end a text on a sad note, so what I also want to add is, that I know for certain there are people out there who have managed to turn their stories around. Sometimes, I am in awe how those people came to accept their past. In that acceptance, I feel like they tried to search for other meanings in life. Other ways to help them see and shape their world differently. Sometimes those ways are found in close friends, a good listener at work, your sister, a patient teacher, or even a complete stranger. I am glad that those people exist. It may take time to see the world differently — but if you are one of them, I hope you will make it. And to those who had a great childhood, I hope you cherished that time, and still do, whenever you’re reminded of it.

Being an art student no. 2

oil colors on wood
33,5 cm x 40 cm
2025

“You artists have a screw loose“ this is how close friends of mine defined their understanding of an “artist.“ However, they didn’t mean it in a condescending way, they tried to reassure me that, more than once. Their remark referred to the artist’s perception – how they live, behave and see their reality. Not necessarily conforming to life as conventionally understood. In my personal experience, I’ve felt that artists need, more or less, some free space and time for themselves, an inherent sense of independence. A trait that I see quite often between my fellow artists, but still, I won’t characterise them as loners. What induces creation, which can be expressed in many forms, be it sculpture, painting, sound, or just words, is, after all, life itself – with all its unexpected turn of events, lows and highs. And sometimes it is just a greyish muddle of everything in between. There is an innate need for expression, for voicing out the emotional, intellectual, sometimes even the mundane, borderline banal observations. A grandmother may question, in their gentle manner, their artist-to-be grandchild “why of all art?“ - an art world, some might dismiss as a cluster of voidness and irrelevance. But if you asked someone from the art world, they might offer more historical or social arguments, or simply express their profound admiration for certain artists or the craft of art itself. “What’s your drive? What are your reasons to hold on as an artist?“ Questions that may arise, in different variations of words, directed towards the artist. It is a great question, though not necessarily an easy one to answer. Perhaps that’s what my friend meant by “a screw loose“. It may indeed seem a little foolish to dive into the art world, that is so broadly faceted and often difficult for friends and family to grasp. But I also think it is quite courageous, being able to stand firmly for your beliefs, your perception and the way you choose to live.

Mom

oil colors on canvas
30 cm x 40 cm
2025

A woman who, despite many hardships she has faced in life, is still able to believe in the goodness of it all. At times acting like a big child, naive and quick-tempered in many ways. “How silly” was often times my thoughts regarding her behavior.
As time has passed, I have found myself in the position of understanding. Or, as one might say, to turn a blind eye - to trying to understand her.
I am glad that she has somewhat found a way of dealing with the mundaneness of life. Picking herself up and facing each new day with her certain childlike curiosity. Following her interests, singing, writing and sometimes dancing. She is not the “ideal mom,” but I would say she did her best in the way she could.

Tik Tak Tok

oil colors on canvas
60 cm x 75 cm
2024

The title of this painting refers to the cross and circle signs one can find on this dusty but colored window scene. It was an abandoned window of a bar that hasn’t been running - if I remember right- since the pandemic time. I was captivated by the traces and signs that people have left while passing by this window. Being creative enough to use the grid of the window as a simple game of “tik tak tok”, or rubbing their hands onto the glass to peek through the dimmed hallway. If one looks closely there is also some pictorial signs left onto the window scene. A smiley face one sometimes draws with ease, almost instinctively, which is somehow very embedded in our sensory memory.