Astrid Lamm | Art from salvaged materials
Everything is politics!
Hello,
my name is Astrid Lamm. I am a freelance artist and graphic designer.
I’m also known as PIPPILOTTA. Why this name? It’s a deliberate homage to Pippi Longstocking. In the book, she describes herself as a “thing-finder.” She walks through the world with her eyes wide open, picks up things that others throw away, and gives them a new, often magical value. Just like her, I see myself as a passionate “thing-finder”: It’s the pure, unconventional freedom to create expressive art from supposed trash with a minimal ecological footprint.
I use old canvases, wooden panels found in bulk trash, or recycled cardboard as my surfaces; I make my own frames from reclaimed wood or find them in the bulk trash. In addition, I expand my primarily painterly practice to include three-dimensional objects made from chicken wire. By now, 90 percent of my artwork consists of waste materials. Only occasionally do I purchase additional materials to complete a project.
In my artistic work, I explore the blind spots of our society and shine a light on political and social injustices. Whether it’s democracy, feminism, or the climate crisis: every image conveys a message about the pressing issues of our time. Even in my abstract works and animal portraits, the medium itself serves as the ultimate statement. It is a living critique of consumerism that rescues and elevates the waste of affluence. This forms the conceptual and material foundation of my works.
About me
Life Has a Way of Leading You…
I actually planned on attending the academy of fine arts. My parents, however, didn’t think that was a great idea—you know, the whole „starving artist“ stereotype. So, graphic design was the compromise. I started by attending a specialized high school for art and design, earning my technical diploma. But as a rebellious teenager, the thought of sitting in a stuffy advertising agency didn’t sit right with me. I intentionally skipped the submission deadline for my portfolio and enrolled in a commercial college instead to get another diploma, this time in business administration. It wasn’t exactly my passion, but even back then, I thought it might come in handy if I ever started my own business.
Still unsure of what path to take, I completed an apprenticeship as a pre-press technician at a commercial printing shop. This is where I learned the old-school craftsmanship. Photos were retouched using protein-based glazes—Photoshop didn’t exist yet, or rather, it was in its absolute infancy and still a distant utopia for us. Films were produced using drum scanners, contact printers, process cameras, and Diatype typesetting machines. Magazine layouts were created completely by hand using paste-ups. Masking films were cut manually with a scalpel to create halftone negatives, and Cromalins were made analog for color-accurate proofs. Today’s younger generation would call it total retro. Slowly but surely, the digital age began to replace everything. I taught myself how to use the Mac and all the necessary graphic design software, and despite my early rebellion, I ended up working in various advertising agencies after all.
Over time, I realized that as technology grew, a lot of genuine creativity was lost. Under high pressure, products were expected to be pushed to the consumer as quickly and profitably as possible. Unpaid overtime, lack of appreciation, high-speed media deadlines—everything felt short-lived and superficial. It was the kind of environment that turns you passive, and it was something I no longer wanted. So, in 2015, I made the decision to go fully independent. Trading stability for flexibility, lowering my stress levels, and choosing to evolve in a never-ending state of experimentation rather than constantly chasing a rigid status quo.
Before the second COVID-19 lockdown in October 2020, I moved from Düsseldorf to Visselhövede. There, I live in a tiny house surrounded by nature, and I enjoy exploring minimalism, upcycling, and conserving resources.
