Here in the studio, tucked away in the backyard of the well-known house bearing the inscription This house used to stand in another country, things are calm. Surrounded by life clocks, materials, and half-finished objects, Jean-Remy talks about his creative processes and how his path from childhood to art-making has unfolded.
Jean-Remy grew up in an environment that could hardly have been more different from his later career. In his parents’ home—harmonious, yet shaped by deep faith—“luxury was a sin.” Things were not bought but made. “As a child, I was always building, crafting, making things. That stayed with me. I was raised to produce, not to consume,” he says. Growing up in a household without television, without cinema, without consumer rituals, his gaze turned inward early on—to his own thoughts and to what might emerge from them.
In the early 1990s, he founded the advertising agency Jung von Matt and, together with his business partner Holger Jung, became known in an industry that, perhaps more than any other, is fueled by consumption. Looking back, this trajectory feels almost like a logical counter-movement: “Because consumption played no role in my childhood, advertising and marketing suddenly became exciting to me—it was completely uncharted territory,” he says. Yet even there, he stayed true to what mattered most: for him, it wasn’t about selling, but about inventing. “I cared about producing. The consumer side didn’t interest me.”
Advertising is a playground for him—but one defined by pressure and little time. The industry demands speed and volume: “No one watches advertising voluntarily. Advertising has to seduce, to fight, to be loud.” It is the stark opposite of art, where time, attention, and dedication are inherent. “Art, on the other hand, comes with a leap of faith. In a museum, you can trust that your work will be looked at. People have patience.”
He uses that patience to explore themes central to his work: time, transience, change, human existence. No current events, no trends: “I’m not interested in anything accusatory or topical. I want to make people think—not make them outraged.” His works often revolve around something he repeatedly emphasizes: timelessness. For him, time is not background noise but material. His best-known pieces deal with clocks—often those that don’t show the time but count it down. Yet the countdown is not meant to frighten, but to liberate. “The clocks are meant to be life clocks, not death clocks. They’re about something we actually have. The seconds on the clock belong to us—perhaps they’re our only true property.”
His installations often rely on participation. Visitors are not only meant to observe but to become part of a process. “Taking part in art is important, but participating actively is even better,” he says. The interactive hourglass at Kunstpalast Düsseldorf was one such example: people could visualize their own lives as sand running through the glass. It’s a philosophy that also shapes his definition of art: “It must move people emotionally, it must be created by human hands, and it must not serve any superficial purpose.”
From a childhood without consumerism to advertising without time—and from there to art that transforms both—a common thread runs through Jean-Remy von Matt’s life: the conviction that creativity has nothing to do with having, but with doing, with the courage to rethink things, repurpose them, rebuild them. “I like imagination. I like turning existing things to new uses—but also creating something new out of nothing.”
All Photography by VICTOR HEEKEREN