Bad Signal, Good Transition: The Story Behind the Painting
Claudia SchmidtSome commissions arrive as a brief. This one arrived as a love letter.
An email about a brother
A message landed in my inbox from Damaris, who lives in the Netherlands. She had found my work, liked the randomness and the colour, and wanted to know whether I take custom pieces. She has a trans brother, she wrote, and she felt like my paintings represented the two of them in a very specific way. She also added, very sweetly, that she had never commissioned art before and had no idea what information I actually needed, so I should feel free to educate her.
What she sent next was not a brief. It was everything.
Nachos, cheese dip and a cinema in Germany
When they were kids they went to the cinema a lot. He was small, so he picked the film, and she was just happy to be there. But the real reason they went, and both of them will admit this, was the nachos. Specifically the cheese dip. Unexplainably delicious, in her words.
She lives in the Netherlands now. He still lives in Germany. And every single time he goes to the cinema with his friends, he sends her a photo of his nachos with the cheese dip.
That was the moment I knew what the painting had to be.
"I'm trans btw (surprise)"
Damaris told me that her brother never really felt the need to come out to her. There came a point where he knew he would have to tell their parents, and he wanted to talk it through with her first, and that conversation opened with those exact words.
They are the two youngest of five siblings, and they grew up with foster siblings too, so the house was always full and most of the family is quite religious. Coming out there took a kind of bravery she still talks about with awe. Coming out to her, though, cost him nothing, because she had already built a room where it was not necessary.
That is what I wanted the painting to feel like. Not the big dramatic moment. The room.
Two sharks at one table
Sharks are his favourite animal, so both of them are sharks. He wears a split dye, half blond and half brown. Her signature colour has been pink for over a decade, which is one of the reasons my work resonated with her in the first place, since Candy Decay is built on that same loud pink. Between them sits the plate of nachos, and a bowl of cheese dip with a small pride flag planted right in it, because obviously.
The rest of the room belongs to them too. A neon sign that says welcome, we saved you a seat. A cinema marquee telling the preset exactly where it can go. A ticket for the Candy Decay Cinema. Pixel hearts in rainbow, trans and plain red. A trans flag hanging in the window next to a city at night. A tiny polaroid of two silhouettes at Pride, because he comes to Amsterdam for Pride every year and this year makes three. A handwritten note on the table that only the two of them really need to be able to read.
Both of them also ended up in fashion completely by accident. She started an upcycling label, he has just finished fashion school. So the painting is a graduation present. And a birthday present. And a coming out present. It is doing several jobs at once, which feels about right.
Where the name comes from
On the wall behind them hangs a small poster that reads bad signal, good transition. Some things take years to come through clearly. Some things arrive exactly as they are.
So that became the title.
The original already has a home
The original was a gift. It went to her brother, and that was the whole point of it from the very first email.
But Damaris asked early on whether prints would exist, so she could keep one for herself and still give him the original, and the answer is yes. The hand-signed print is 21 by 21 cm, signed, embossed with my artist seal, and it comes with a small handwritten dedication, packed with love and a little chaos as always. There is a bigger poster version too, produced and shipped by my print partner, and a digital download if you would rather print it yourself.
Shop the poster, 10 by 10 up to 24 by 24 inches →
Not sure which format is which? Compare originals, hand-signed prints and wall art →
Where 20% of every print goes
This piece exists because someone made space for someone else, and it felt wrong to keep all of that to myself. So 20% of the revenue from every hand-signed print of Bad Signal, Good Transition goes to Bundesverband Trans*, the German association that works for the rights, healthcare access and legal self determination of trans and gender diverse people.
Not every family has a Damaris in it. That is precisely why organisations like this one exist.
If you have a person like that
If you are reading this with someone specific in your head, and you want them painted into a room where they are already welcome, you can write to me. I do not take on many commissions and I am slow, but this one reminded me exactly why I take any at all.
Thank you, as always, for supporting independent art. And thank you to Damaris and her brother for letting me tell this one out loud.