Yasna Kohlbrenner
UnYk Art Creations
Each work I paint serves to repair a piece of life
The Invisible Thread: From Exclusion to Creation
14-41 two elderly rejected and rebuilt
I was born into a world where people spoke of light, but where shadows weighed heavily . A community, rules, imposed silences. At four years old, I was taken to see a dead woman. I had to pray, lay my hands on her. I was afraid. I ran away.
Then there was Néné. She had ebony skin and the grace of a queen. On two large swings, we soared up to the sky. She told me about Africa , about markets full of color, about drums in the night. I told her about Switzerland, about the snow and the mountains.
The shock happened when I was 14. For an egg . A hunger, a rule I dared to defy . My father told me, "You're going out." I obeyed. I became invisible. That night, I slept outside. I learned the laws of the street .
An African family took me in. There, I understood that human warmth depends neither on blood nor origins.
Years have passed. I worked, founded, failed, rebuilt. At 41, everything collapses : my father is murdered, the man I love has a child elsewhere, I lose what I have built.
So I do what I always do in big storms: I burn, I empty, I start again.
And I paint. For the first time.
I take an egg , a little flour, some pigments. The texture emerges under my fingers. This egg,the same one I once put in my mouth as a challenge, now becomes the heart of my medium. Art becomes an act of rebirth.
This is where everything starts to be expressed differently.
I let myself be lulled. The silence speaks to me. Between my fingers, a form is born. It doesn't shine like a star. It shines like a wound that one chooses to love.
I hold it, I listen to it. It reminds me that what I create is not just texture. It's a memory. Earth crushed by life.
bound by an egg, always, to give birth to something else...something beautiful.
My workshop is not a place of production. It is a place of passage. A memory circulates there. The memory of my 14 years, the memory of my 41 years. The memory of women who have nothing left but the strength to transform raw stones into bursts of light. The memory of rejected children left to live on the streets.
When I paint, I don't invent anything. I listen. I assemble. I let the material speak of what it has seen, of what it has survived.
They carve the stone. I paint their light.
Elles ne sont pas les oubliées de la guerre.
Elles ont été utilisées comme champ de bataille.
Leurs corps brisés, leurs entrailles ravagées, leurs voix étouffées.
Le viol comme arme, la terreur comme méthode.
Et malgré tout, elles sont debout.
Dans un atelier que nous avons ouvert ensemble, elles apprennent à résister autrement.
Elles polissent la douleur.
Elles transforment la roche brute en éclats précieux, comme si, à force de courage, la pierre acceptait de porter leur mémoire.
Mes précieuses.
Chacune d’elles taille plus qu’un cristal : elle sculpte sa dignité retrouvée.
Ces pierres, je les intègre dans mes toiles. Pas comme un détail, mais comme un cœur battant. Elles font partie de l’œuvre. Comme elles font partie de ma vie, de mon combat, de ma promesse :
ne jamais taire ce que d'autres voudraient effacer.
Children living on the streets - Punished for existing
Ils ne sont pas tombés dans la rue. On les y a laissés.
Parfois leurs parents sont vivants. Parfois même tout proches.
Mais personne n’est venu les chercher. Pas un regard, pas un geste.
Comme si leur douleur ne comptait pas. Comme si un enfant pouvait s’effacer.
Ils n’ont pas fui. Ils ont été jetés dehors. Comme des choses. Et personne ne leur a tendu la main.
Je les ai vus dormir à même la terre, les yeux ouverts, les ventres vides,
les mains tendues vers rien. Puis un jour, je n’ai plus su partir.
Alors on a vécu ensemble. On a appris à respirer dans un monde qui les oublie. On a construit des maisons, planté des arbres, soigné les blessures visibles… et les autres.
Ils m'appellent KoKoYa. J’ai laissé ce nom me guérir aussi.
Aujourd’hui, ils brillent dans mes toiles. Des figurines phosphorescentes racontent leur silence. Car dans l’obscurité, eux, ils brillent.
Et moi, je peins pour qu’on ne puisse plus les ignorer.
Supporting beauty that heals
1. Upcoming Exhibitions and Events
Join me at my upcoming exhibitions to experience my work firsthand. You'll have the opportunity to examine it in detail, discuss its meaning, and support a cause close to my heart. For upcoming events, see the "Events" section below.
2. Virtual Tours
If you are unable to attend an exhibition, I offer private virtual tours. During these sessions, I will guide you through my artwork, allowing you to appreciate every detail. If a piece particularly resonates with you, you will also have the opportunity to purchase it during the tour. Contact me to schedule your personalized visit.
3. Artistic Brunches and Happy Hours
Experience art in a new way by booking a private brunch or art-themed happy hour at my home. For groups of 10 or more, you can arrange an exclusive gathering to discover my work in a relaxed and friendly atmosphere. It's the perfect opportunity to bring your family and friends together around art while supporting the humanitarian projects I'm involved in.