Anna Zimmermann

Y: Hello Anna, can you please introduce yourself?

A: I’m Anna Zimmermann, I’m 27 years old and currently living in Vienna, though I’m originally from Switzerland. I'm half German, half Swiss. I work as a designer, but I also like to consider myself an artist, as my practice sits somewhere between art and design. And in my free time, I really love to cook.

Y: Do you have early memories of creativity?

A: I feel like it started already in kindergarten. My parents sent me to a forest school where we spent all our time outside. I would always build little houses for the creatures I imagined lived in the forest. Even back then, I drew constantly and painted on everything I could find — sometimes even on the bowls at my parents’ house. So I think I’ve always loved creating things with my hands.

In high school, I chose the art department and had six hours of art classes a week instead of the usual two. After that, I decided to continue my studies in art. I’ve always enjoyed so many different mediums that I couldn’t really choose just one, and I didn’t have a clear idea of what I wanted to become in the traditional sense. Then I read about the Design Academy Eindhoven in the Netherlands in an art magazine, and it sounded perfect for me — it’s very cross-disciplinary.

They really embraced a conceptual approach to design and art, encouraging you to choose the medium that best fits what you want to express or explore.

So yes, I think creativity has always been a big part of my life.

Y: Where do you get your inspiration from?

A: I definitely get a lot of inspiration from the people around me. I have very inspiring friends who are creatives as well. And then, of course, the more classic sources — reading a lot, being curious, and observing things in everyday life. I think I’m just naturally a very curious person, which probably also explains why I’m drawn to different mediums and enjoy working in a cross-disciplinary way.

I get a lot of inspiration from learning and experimenting, and from going to new places and trying new things. Stepping out of my comfort zone — even when it’s challenging—can be really inspiring.

Y: How inspiring is this artist residency for you (Casa Balandra)?

A: I’ve met so many inspiring people here. It’s not just one specific person — it’s more about the little things I’ve picked up from everyone. If I had to give an example, I’d say the color combinations Mary (artist Mary Herbert) uses really stood out to me, or Pierra’s way of just experimenting without overthinking. She was never afraid to try something, while I often find myself holding back, overanalyzing whether something will work before even trying. But there’s so much inspiration in the process itself. Even if the outcome isn’t perfect, the act of trying something new can be incredibly inspiring.

I also found inspiration in our daily life together — the way people dress, how they cook, how they speak… all these tiny things, not just in their artistic practice, but in simply being around them.

Y: How do you feel when you are creating?

A: It really depends on which stage of the creative process I’m in. Overall, I’d say it feels great — I genuinely love creating — but the experience shifts depending on where I’m at. The conceptual phase, for example, can be quite intense. That’s when I’m thinking about what I want to do, what the project is about, and what story I want to tell. It involves a lot of research and mental processing, and during that time, I often feel very “in my head.” Things don’t always make sense yet, and I’m trying to figure it all out.

But once I reach the point where everything clicks and I have a clear vision, it becomes really enjoyable. That phase — from knowing what I want to do to bringing it to life — is the most rewarding part of the process for me.

That said, I also get bored easily. Once a project is done, I’m often ready to move on and explore something new. I never want to feel stuck in what I’ve already done — that’s why I’m always curious to try different things.

Y: How did you use this process while being here (at Casa Balandra)?

A: I did a bit of the research and thinking phase back in Vienna, in my studio, because I wanted to arrive here with some preparation. But while being here, I really wanted to lean more into intuition and not rely so much on rationality in my work. As I mentioned earlier, my creative process often starts with a lot of thinking — it's quite intellectual and structured. And while I appreciate that part, I’ve realized I want to find more balance.

I want to keep the thoughtful, conceptual side of my practice, but also allow more room for intuition — just going with the flow. That’s something I’ve been exploring here.

One part of the project I’m working on — the fragment project — is very much how I usually operate. But then, this whole experimentation with clay — suddenly getting the idea to make a side table or a bench, or even imagining a handbag made out of ceramics — that’s more spontaneous. It’s not necessarily a new approach for me, but I’m revisiting it with more openness to intuition, and just following what feels right in the moment.

It brings me a lot of joy. It’s really liberating. And I definitely want to carry that way of working with me when I go back home because it’s simply so enjoyable.

Y: Can you talk about your current project “Fragments”? What do you want to express with it?

A: I was really drawn to the idea of fragments — especially as a way to represent this space and its surroundings. There's an essay by Walter Benjamin that talks about fragmentation in photography. He explains that a photograph is always just a fragment of a bigger picture — a single moment in time that captures only a small part of the whole. That idea really stuck with me.

There’s also a period in literature called the “fragment” period, where narratives would jump from one scene to another without a traditional structure. I found that idea fascinating — the thought of portraying a place through fragments rather than a linear or complete story.

Since I’m an object and project designer with a background in graphic design and photography, it felt natural to approach this residency through that lens. I've been working with materials sourced from the island — like clay, palm leaves, and found objects — and using them as fragments to tell a story.

The idea is to bring all these elements together into a single publication. I want to play with photography in a way that makes the objects feel almost like archaeological findings — fragments that hint at a bigger narrative without fully revealing it.

Y: Do you feel a responsibility as an artist towards society?

A: I see myself as a storyteller, trying to make people pay attention to certain things. Sometimes these are poetic reflections on life, and other times they question everyday routines — like why we work the way we do, or how we experience loneliness, time, and meaning.

So yes, I think my role is to tell stories that offer people—whether they’re creatives or not—a new perspective on things they might not have considered before. Even if it’s just for a brief moment, shifting someone’s viewpoint feels really powerful and meaningful to me.

Y: Do you have any example of a previous work you did ?

A: So, in 2020, my friend and I worked on a project together called Souvenirs of Loneliness. It explored the feeling of loneliness, which was obviously very present at the time because of the confinement — a lot of people were suddenly faced with being completely alone.

But we were also curious about loneliness from a historical perspective. Interestingly, the word loneliness is quite recent. It only started being used around the 1850s. Before that, people were so closely connected to their surroundings that being alone wasn’t really part of daily life. The only people who truly spent time alone were monks — but that was seen more as solitude, with a meditative or spiritual connotation. So both the feeling of loneliness and even the word itself are relatively new, and that really intrigued us.

For the project, we defined ten situations that captured different aspects of loneliness. For example, during the pandemic, a lot of people deeply missed physical connection — the simple act of being touched or held. So we imagined an aphrodisiac perfume designed to be worn for yourself — a way to reclaim intimacy and sensuality, even when alone.

We also created a keychain shaped like a void — a heavy object made from silver. It was meant to physically embody that feeling of emptiness, but in the form of a souvenir. Because loneliness is transient. It marks a specific moment in your life — it passes, then returns, then fades again. That’s why we were interested in working with the idea of souvenirs — small objects that represent those fleeting yet impactful emotional states.

In the end, we designed ten different souvenirs, each representing a distinct facet of loneliness. I think it’s a good example of storytelling through design.

We exhibited it at the Vienna Design Week Biennale, and it became a great platform for conversations. People really opened up — and it was fascinating, because loneliness isn’t something we often talk about. Maybe in our generation, we’re a bit more used to discussing mental health, but there’s still so much shyness or even shame around certain feelings. And loneliness… it’s a hard feeling to sit with.

Y: Do you think that social media is having an impact on this?

A: Definitely. I think social media impacts almost every part of our lives. As a creative, Instagram feels crucial — it’s so contemporary in the sense that everything happens there. As a designer, it helps me stay aware of what’s going on, and it’s also a big source of inspiration. For example, I wouldn’t have known about this residency if it weren’t for Instagram.

But of course, there are negatives too. The constant comparison to others is tough, even though I know rationally I shouldn’t do it. And then there’s this sense of mutuality — everything happening all at once. To me, it looks like everyone is doing amazing things all the time: one person’s on vacation, another’s having an exhibition, someone else is just drinking coffee. But in my mind, I feel like I should be doing all those things at once — vacationing, exhibiting, relaxing — and that creates a toxic relationship with Instagram for me.

Y: What would you tell your five-years-younger self?

A: I think I was already pretty courageous back then, but I’d tell myself to be more patient. It’s okay not to achieve everything within a certain timeframe. Life definitely feels lighter the older you get — I used to be really self-conscious and unsure of myself. But with each year, I get to know myself a bit better. So yes, I’d tell my younger self to be more patient and also prouder, because honestly, I’m quite self-critical — lol.

Y: And the last one… how important is creativity for the world?

A: It’s incredibly important. I think when you're creative, you naturally find different solutions to everything. Curiosity, in a way, can save the world. I mean — what would life even be without creativity?

A conversation at Casa Balandra in Mallorca, March 2022.