Jakub Kubica

Meet The Artist:

22 June 2026

Meet The Artist:

Jakub Kubica

22 June 2026

Q: You work with natural materials like stone, wood, sand, as well as with sterile metals, merging them into a single whole. How have you arrived at this combination, and what makes you stay loyal to it?

A: By combining a relatively sterile, heavily processed material such as aluminium with natural materials, I am able to zoom in on the qualities of the natural world. The metal becomes almost a framing device, directing attention towards the stone, wood, or sand.

My relationship with natural materials is somewhat obsessive and never-ending, so staying loyal to it may not even be enough to fully align with my conceptual interests. Every stone is unique. It carries its own history, character, and imperfections. In many ways, the stones become silent collaborators in the work. I need to discover them before the piece can exist.

The process often begins with finding a stone rather than drawing an object. The stone then dictates the shape of the metal table or sculpture around it. I am interested in this balance between control and surrender, where the industrial precision of aluminium meets something that was shaped by geological time.

You knock on materials to understand their sound and texture. What does the right material feel and sound like? How do you recognise it?

I am mostly trying to understand a material by listening to it. Sound reveals its character surprisingly fast. Some materials feel dense and quiet, others resonate and almost seem alive.

There is no exact formula for recognising the right one. It is largely intuitive. Sometimes a stone attracts me because of its colour or texture, but often it is the sound and presence that make me stop. The right material is usually the one that continues occupying my thoughts long after I have left it behind.

Q: Is there a routine or habit you discovered that unlocked something important in your work?

A: Coffee and sketching have been constants for many years, but I think what matters more is creating the right environment for ideas to emerge. I prefer periods of solitude and try to remove as many distractions as possible.

Travelling has also become an important part of my process. Visiting different landscapes, observing geological formations, or simply spending time in nature teaches me things that no book or screen can. Many ideas emerge through observation rather than deliberate problem-solving.

At the same time, my practice involves endless hours in the atelier. There is a romantic idea that inspiration arrives during extraordinary moments, but many of my best ideas emerge during repetitive tasks. Sometimes the rhythm of making creates enough mental space for something unexpected to appear.

"Coffee and sketching have been constants for many years, but I think what matters more is creating the right environment for ideas to emerge. I prefer periods of solitude and try to remove as many distractions as possible."

Q: Do your pieces tell you where they want to live — a home, a gallery, an outdoor space? Have any of their placements ever surprised you?

A: I like the idea of my pieces becoming part of someone’s life. It gives me great pleasure to think that I might contribute, even in a small way, to how somebody experiences their space every day.

When designing, I often imagine environments that feel almost otherworldly. A timeless monastery comes to mind more often than a contemporary interior. I am drawn to spaces that feel calm, permanent, and detached from trends.

That said, I am frequently surprised by where the pieces eventually end up. Galleries provide one context, but private homes often reveal something more interesting. Once a piece leaves the studio, it develops a life of its own and becomes part of someone else’s story.

Q: You came to Berlin and stayed. What does this city give artists that other cities don’t, and what is it still missing?

A: Berlin attracted me because it was relatively poor and allowed people to be experimental. There was a sense that unusual ideas could develop without immediate pressure to become commercially successful. Compared to London, where I lived previously, Berlin felt much freer and more open to risk.

The city continues to attract people who are willing to challenge conventions, and that atmosphere remains valuable.

At the same time, Berlin faces the same challenges as many major cities. It is becoming increasingly unaffordable for artists and is gradually pushing them towards the outskirts. My own atelier is located in Zehdenick, around sixty kilometres from Berlin. The days of cheap studios and large creative spaces in the city centre are largely gone. Preserving room for experimentation will be one of Berlin’s biggest challenges in the future.

Q: Are there particular places in Berlin you find yourself gravitating towards for art, food, or simply to be away from work?

A: I live in Neukölln, and when I have time during the weekend, I enjoy simple things: Turkish fast food, local cafés, and meeting a few close friends who have remained in Berlin.

To be honest, I have largely lost interest in the art world as a social scene. Most of my energy goes into the work itself. If I have free time, I prefer to stay at home, make music, read, or sometimes do absolutely nothing.

Being restless is part of my personality, so moments of stillness have become increasingly important. They allow me to recover and prepare for another week in the atelier.