5 Questions – Lea Altner

CH You arrived at PEAC after working at institutions like the Migros Museum in Zurich and the Kestner Gesellschaft in Hanover. When you first encountered PEAC, what struck you most about the museum and what did you immediately feel needed to evolve?

LA The first thing I noticed was the striking contrast between the outside and the inside of the museum—it still surprises me every day when I enter the building, and I think many visitors share that experience. PEAC is located in an industrial park in Freiburg, so instead of a picturesque old town, you find yourself surrounded by trucks, large cable drums, and constant noise. Then, as soon as you step inside, everything changes and it feels like entering a completely different world: the space becomes quiet, almost serene and you walk into 1,000 square meters of light-filled exhibition space. At first, I found the location somewhat frustrating, especially because of its distance from the city center and the resulting lack of visibility. Over time, I’ve come to see this as a potential strength. The setting encourages a more deliberate and focused engagement with art. My immediate thought was: this place is so unusual and special—more people need to experience it.

CH The Paul Ege Art Collection gives PEAC a very clear identity, particularly with its focus on Minimal Art and color-based practices. But some might say such a strong focus can also feel restrictive. How do you keep the program dynamic without losing the collection’s core identity?

LA When I started here, in 2022, I was by no means an expert in this particular field—but of course, you learn. I immersed myself in the collection, which includes about 1,500 works. Why was something once considered important? What does a work tell us today? And how do contemporary artists relate to it? These questions have become the foundation of my programme. I truly enjoy working with this collection because I believe these artworks continually offer questions, ideas, and emotions that resonate with all of us and remain relevant today. Each year, we present one exhibition drawn from the collection, alongside at least one exhibition featuring a contemporary artist responding to the collection or to the place itself. There is a strong element of external input that continually questions and expands the museum—through exhibitions as well as an accompanying interdisciplinary program. I believe this is what keeps a place dynamic: never becoming closed off or complacent, but consistently inviting new people and new ideas. This year, for example, the collection exhibition So Close, Yet So Far (April 26–August 23, 2026) explores the charged relationship between proximity and distance, spanning a wide range of periods and media—from sculpture, photography, and painting to sound, installation, and video. An important part of the programme is also to interweave art with other disciplines like literature and music. As part of the upcoming accompanying program, the wonderful actress and writer Meike Rötzer will present a reading of Dostoevsky’s White Nights, an intense text about longing. For the autumn, we are preparing a project with the Polish artist Michał Budny, opening in September. His work appears minimal at first glance but carries a strong poetic dimension. To me, his practice forms an intriguing counterpoint to works by Robert Morris or Donald Judd (also represented in the collection), which are grounded in the premise of universal perceptual processes.

CH Compared to larger contemporary art institutions, PEAC is relatively small and closely tied to a private collection. Do you see this as a limitation, or could that independence actually be one of the museum’s biggest strengths?

LA I believe that supporting art and artists is a public responsibility, grounded in the conviction that the arts are an essential part of an open, democratic, and innovative society. At the same time, I see friends and colleagues in large public institutions facing budget cuts and—perhaps even more concerning—political interference. From this perspective, it is all the more remarkable that several generations of the same family have chosen to dedicate their wealth to the arts. What was once a private collection has since become part of a nonprofit foundation that now operates the museum. This structure allows us to be generous and to do our part in ensuring that art has its place in society: admission is always free, as are the vast majority of our events and educational programs.

CH In recent years, many museums have tried to become more open spaces for dialogue and participation. What does that ambition look like at PEAC in concrete terms and where do you think museums sometimes fall short when they make these claims?

LA It helps to remember that art institutions often operate within a kind of bubble. For that reason, it is always worth it (and maybe today more important than ever) to think about how to build bridges between art and people’s everyday lives and experiences. What could a museum visit mean to you? “Look at this artwork because it is art historically important” is, in my view, neither a sufficient reason to visit a museum (and whose art history are we even referring to?), nor a compelling starting point for dialogue. Over time, we have experimented with and implemented a range of formats for dialogue and participation: handing over the museum to around 500 schoolchildren, inviting visitors to decide what they want to see, collaborating with art therapists and testing different approaches to art history, to name just a few. But more generally, I believe the most important task is to create an atmosphere of openness and exchange as the foundation for everything else. In this respect, being a smaller institution is an advantage: we are able to build personal relationships with everyone who walks through our doors, and many of our visitors are very familiar with “their” works in the collection. And one important lesson I’ve learned is that if you want to engage a specific group that you are not part of yourself, it is essential to invite experts from within that group in order to truly understand their perspectives and needs.

CH Looking ahead, where do you want PEAC to position itself within the wider contemporary art landscape? Should it remain a focused institution built around the Paul Ege Art Collection, or do you see it evolving into something broader over time?

LA I see the Paul Ege Art Collection as the core of the museum, and as the collection continues to grow, the museum will inevitably evolve alongside it. Many people perceive the kind of abstract art represented in the collection as non-political and disconnected from the world we live in. I don’t believe that is true. While these works may not overtly depict social or political issues, they compel you to situate yourself in relation to them. In engaging with them, you become acutely aware of your own position—and that awareness is a prerequisite for forming relationships with others. It is the basis for empathy, which I see as a political act in itself. The PEAC Museum is a place that offers space and time to breathe—to be with your thoughts, to reflect, and to be creative, away from the noise of everyday life. I would love for the museum to be known as a welcoming place. You know that feeling of unexpectedly coming across an extraordinary, art-filled space somewhere off the beaten path? I don’t see us ever becoming a large, mainstream institution, but I would be very happy if the PEAC Museum could be one of those places—one that people discover and that becomes meaningful to many.