Dino Cama
“My surfaces feel layered and weathered because I want them to look and feel like they went through something to get here. Because that’s been my life.”
Dino Cama is a Denmark-based artist whose sculptural paintings draw on memory, displacement, and the inherited weight of Balkan history. In this interview, he speaks about growing up between cultures, the women who shaped his worldview, and how weathered materials and reclaimed wood become a way to process survival, trauma, and transformation.
Could you tell us a bit about yourself and your background?
My family fled the balkan war In 1992, and ended up in Denmark In 1993. My parents actually met In a refugee camp in Macedonia and fell In love. So I really am a product of war. A war baby. There for I was born In Denmark In 1994, but always have had strong ties to what I still call Yugoslavia. My mom is from Bosnia, and my father is from Montenegro, so every summer that is where we headed back to. As a child I used to sit and draw for hours, obsessively. But then my teenage years happened and I started being more interested in teenage activities. A whole decade went by, and It wasn’t until I attended Fashion Design School in Copenhagen in 2015 that I slowly picked it back up again. But I really first got fully back into it when the pandemic hit in 2020, I was 25 years old then. Seeing the world slowing down and closing, really did a lot of good for me. I enjoy that slow paced life, with not to many people around. I can think and feel better.
Your work often captures the feeling of memory, traces of homes, histories, and experiences that seem both personal and collective. What first drew you to explore these themes of place and remembrance through your practice?
Really I think the answer lies within having really strong women around me my whole entire life. Seeing how they cope with tragedy, loss, things that would just break you. But because they decided that was never going to be a factor, in how they would live their lives it never did. Not living with hate, not living with a grudge or destain. These are all things that carry a certain mental heaviness, that can take away from your true self and your soul. I mean for the first 4 years of my life we lived out of suitcases, just waiting for the news that everything had come to an end and we could return back home. My grandparents were always 5 minutes away from us, and I would be at their house more than my own. Growing up, just being curious, asking questions. I couldn’t believe what they went through. And here you are today. Still laughing, still smiling, making the best of everything. I guess that gave me a sense of never wanting to be ungrateful, and speaking for the generations that had come before us. A voice for the voiceless in a sense. So these themes just happened to take over through my work, it was never planned, just destined.
No Pork In His Diet, 2024, installation shot by Mikkel Kaldal
Documenta, 2025 Photography by Mikkel Kaldal
The surfaces of your works feel layered and weathered, as if carrying physical and emotional residue. How do you approach the materials you use, especially wood, to reflect ideas of time, change, or trauma?
I remember one of my earliest memories in life, was that I wanted was to escape the daily race. For some reason I understood this very early. Not being stuck in traffic at 7 o’clock In the morning trying to get to somewhere you really hate to be, but you have to be there. I really think this is one of the biggest tragedies in our lives, and I really believe this gives trauma on a level, over the years, we can’t truly comprehend. That’s why I think I have such a hard time to this day, doing things I have zero interest in. I don’t want to compromise, I see no reason for it. Art is a way to survive for me. It is the only thing I have ever enjoyed and been disciplined at. Things I find of the street also have that strong sense of survival. I go to the woods and find more material that any art store I can find. The smell of wet wood is enchanting. It has endless possibilities in it, and I can leave a lot of mistakes on the table. That I later can bend and tear, and become very excited about, and go further with. It ends up being a very meticulous process. My surfaces feel layered and weathered because I want them to look and feel like they went through something to get here. Because that’s been my life. I spent years and years just being lost, not knowing what to do with myself. But still feeling like I had something to offer.
Many of your pieces sit somewhere between painting and sculpture, with a strong sense of weight and texture. How do you think about form and material when moving between two and three dimensions?
If you go back to Bosnia today, even Sarajevo. You can still see bullet holes in most buildings and houses. Poverty is a real thing for many still, and people use anything sustainable to rebuild. That is what gave me the sense, that I could move so much across mediums. Anything I can recycle, and make into something that can be used is a win. Wood is such a powerful natural tool. I realised that when building these pieces bit by bit, it also became this sculptural object and gave me a chance to move away from the traditional canvas. I then took this idea further, and it dawned on me the same was possible to do with cardboard, textiles and styrofoam. Nothing is off limits to make into art & beauty. We need more of it, especially with the state of the world these days. So when I build these works it’s about my gut feeling when it’s done. I want it to represent strength and moving forward. Not dwelling on things. Being able to escape. A transformative journey. I try to have a tactile approach, with nuances of manipulation of the material. And then let that lead me into the kinda mark making, and movement I want to put on it. Almost like a song you dont quite know yet, but you choose to try and sing along.
Savant King, 2025 Photography by Mikkel Kaldal
Rope, Fur, Velvet, 2025 Photography by Mikkel Kaldal
The Pijaca, 2025 Photography Mikkel kaldal
Tell us a bit about how you spend your day / studio routine? What is your studio like?
My studio sits on a big farm, with a small lake in the backyard in the outskirts of the city. No more than a 10 minute drive from where I reside. In the summertime I like to sit there for some moments, smoke a cigarette and look at the water before starting painting. It is the perfect place to work, as it’s got that quiet to it I am looking for. It is a very brutalist space, and gratefully so I have all the room I need for larger scaled works. If I’m on a deadline for a show, I will usually get to the studio early in the morning. But on normal days I will get in around noon, and go at it until night breaks out. I try to get at least 7-10 hours in everyday. And when I do get home I usually sit and draw, or write anyway. So it’s just a non stop process. I then hit a ceiling, and have to step back for a couple of days and go live a little, to think about everything. The work has to sit with me for a bit before I truly know how I feel about it. Unless it is one of those rare occasions when you hit a zone in the studio, and finish something you just know right away is good.
What artwork have you seen recently that has resonated with you?
I recently saw this large scaled work, titled Tempest (Concave) by the late great abstract expressionist Jackie Saccoccio. And it just knocked me out. Her understanding of color and mark making was immense. MASADA - 1993 by Ouattara Watts is also a work I keep coming back to. He is to me one of the great maestros we have left.
Is there anything new and exciting in the pipeline you would like to tell us about?
Just after the new year I have a group show coming up In Venice at Centro Espositivo San Vidal - Spazio SV in January. Followed by a pop up show In Milan to end January with. I am also currently working on my first publication of poetry, set to come out In the spring of 2026 with Supertime books Copenhagen. And I have a duo show planned to happen this coming February.
All images courtesy of the artist
Interview publish date: 20/11/2025
Interview by Richard Starbuck
