With Timidité, Alice Riehl offers a poignant and poetic meditation on presence—of nature in the city, of form in space, and of self within society. The title, meaning “shyness” in French, gestures toward both the botanical phenomenon of crown shyness—where tree canopies avoid touching—and the complex emotional terrain of “taking up space.” This work is a continuation of Riehl’s recent exploration into the relationship between plants and urban life.

Inspired by the Paulownia trees that once filled the sidewalk cracks along the street of her Parisian studio, Timidité carries a deeply personal resonance. These fast-growing trees, known for their expansive leaves and beneficial environmental impact, were suddenly uprooted by the city out of concern for their interference with underground infrastructure. Their removal left a physical and emotional void in the neighborhood, unsettling daily rhythms and severing the quiet companionship they offered to children and locals alike. This event became a catalyst for Riehl’s inquiry: How much space do we give to nature in our cities?—and by extension—How much space do we allow ourselves?

Unfolding horizontally like an aerial view of a tree canopy, Timidité evokes the perspective Riehl gained upon arriving in New York City for her residency with Villa Albertine. In contrast to the intimate view from a Paris sidewalk, Manhattan’s towering verticality revealed the tops of trees from above, a striking shift in vantage that echoes through the work’s spread and composition.

Crafted in porcelain, the mural sprawls across the wall with expressive branches, wide exuberant leaves, and delicately formed seedlings that appear to drift on an unseen breeze. Each leaf is a sculptural marvel—impressed with lace, tactile and unique—evoking both the refined ornamentation of French decorative arts and the organic individuality of flora. Riehl draws here from her ongoing fascination with Toile de Jouy, particularly its seamless, continuous patterns. Like a toile motif, Timidité has no clear beginning or end—just a lyrical fragment of a living system, suspended in time.

Color plays a starring role in this work. Departing from her typical porcelain whites, Riehl employs a cool, crystalline glaze ranging from icy blue to grey-green, inspired by the changing hues and spotted decay of Paulownia leaves in autumn. The glaze crystallizes in unpredictable ways, producing a visual texture that feels both deliberate and organic—grey flecks blooming across pale blue surfaces, and earthy ochres emerging where glaze layers thicken. These colorations lend the work an almost atmospheric presence, like clouds gathering across a forest canopy.

Though vast in scale, Timidité whispers rather than shouts. Its size contradicts its name, hinting at a deeper irony. As in Riehl’s earlier piece Dent-de-lion—a delicate dandelion rendered in porcelain despite its fierce-sounding title—Timidité plays with contrast and duality. The Paulownia itself embodies this tension: celebrated for its ecological benefits yet often classified as invasive. Riehl gently challenges these labels, asking: Who are we to decide what belongs?

By combining French decorative tradition, contemporary ecological thought, and the quiet drama of natural form, Alice Riehl invites us to contemplate not just the beauty of what grows, but the political and poetic implications of what is allowed to remain.