From March 6th to April 11th, 2026, Public Gallery in London presented Sill, a solo exhibition by German artist Cathrin Hoffmann. Born in 1984, Hoffmann lives and works in Berlin. Her practice focuses on states rather than narratives, using painting and sculpture to explore the body in tension, stillness, and awareness.
Entering the exhibition, the paintings on the wall seem to grow out of the soil. The ochre tones and rough texture feel ancient, like something from the beginning of the world. In front of them, a clay figure slightly larger than a human body lies on the ground. Its eye sockets are empty, its face has no expression, and its limbs are twisted, as if it is in a deep and endless sleep. The pale surface suggests stillness and a return to dust. On the opposite wall, another figure stands upright, facing a distant sun. It appears calm, but still carries a quiet energy, as if life is growing again from the earth.
This was my first impression of Hoffmann’s exhibition: the beginning of life, its cycles, and its moments of stillness and return. Also, it reminded me of an old saying: dust to dust, ashes to ashes.
On the other two walls, one figure floats in the air with its legs slightly crossed. The arms are not fully visible, but it seems that some force is holding the body up. This sense of control exists between focus and awareness, emptiness and balance, observation and being. Nearby, a torso hangs like a cocoon, as if holding the earliest form of life. The ribs, tailbone, and spine can be seen faintly. The spine feels like a bridge between earth and sky, a channel of energy in the body. Even without limbs, this body continues to express the core idea of Sill.
The title Sill refers to a threshold. It can also mean a base or foundation, and a moment of pause – a space between states. In architecture, it suggests a place to stop briefly. In geology, it describes magma that enters rock layers and cools in place. This idea of suspended and potential transformation runs through the exhibition. Hoffmann’s practice unfolds precisely within this space between perception and entry, withdrawal and action, observation and participation.
This is clear in the sculpture Reaching the Bottom and Calling It Height (2026). The twisted limbs, inverted torso, and curled toes compress the body into a state of tight stillness. In Don’t Forget My Shape (2026), the crossed legs and slightly bent back make this inner pressure even stronger.
Between the first and second floors, a female figure lies quietly in the corridor. The work: The Glow That Keeps Us Awake (2026) is inspired by The Body of Christ in the Tomb. Hoffmann has said she feels a strong connection to this image. This piece plays an important role between the two floors. It also reminds me of savasana in yoga – a pose that represents death. At this threshold, control and attachment are released. What remains is only breath and sensation: letting go of control over the body, letting go of thoughts, and letting go of the idea of “what I am doing.” This state feels close to a temporary loss of ego. It is like a quiet acceptance of the body and mind in a moment of stillness, and also connects to the Daoist idea of wu wei, a return to simple awareness.
On the second floor, two large hands appear. The nails press into the clay, leaving light marks. The forms are exaggerated: one hand faces down, the other is turned slightly, both curling inward. When the palm faces up, energy moves outward; when it faces down, energy turns inward. Hoffmann has a strong understanding of the human body. Even in abstraction, the forms feel powerful. Each part of the body is reduced to simple shapes, suggesting that we come from some kind of order. The body itself becomes a form of energy, connected to the earth and nature, and in relation to the wider environment.
If life begins in dust and returns to dust, then the colour of clay itself brings a sense of calm. The title Sill has a sense of structure, but also something abstract. The space of the exhibition feels like a temporary shelter – a place to pause. In a time of constant information and movement, this threshold becomes necessary. By returning to a more basic state, the mind can rest for a moment and begin again – like the figure in the exhibition that stands upright, facing the sun.
Cathrin Hoffmann, Sill, March 6th – April 11th, 2026, Public Gallery
