Crèvecœur presents Calamondin, a solo exhibition by Ernst Yohji Jaeger, on view at the gallery’s 5 & 7 rue de Beaune space in Paris from 11 June to 25 July 2026. Born in 1990 in Germany and now living and working in Vienna, Jaeger takes his title from the small citrus tree that has lived in his studio through a near-death and a slow recovery — a private ordeal that becomes, across the paintings gathered here, a way of thinking about what can and cannot be forced out of a body of work. Thom Oosterhof paid a visit.
Ernst Yohji Jaeger just opened his solo exhibition Calamondin at Crèvecœur in Paris, and I had the pleasure of speaking to Ernst in advance of the show opening its doors. His words stuck with me. Rather than attempt to distill them, here’s an excerpt of our conversation:
“At the time, I was going through a low period. Unsure why I was doing it at all. I had a small calamondin plant in my studio. After a particularly harsh autumn, we thought we’d have to discard it. It was just a stick, completely without leaves. But it survived, and at the end, I cooked the fruit and ate it. It became a symbolic thing. I started to see parallels with life in general, and specifically with life as a painter and the relationship you have with your work. If someone asks you to make a fruit, you can’t just pump it up on demand. It’s not up to you. It’s something the tree does because it’s nature. It doesn’t produce fruit because it wants to be sold, or because it needs to meet a quota. And in art, it’s a bit special, because every fruit is kind of unique. Every painting is, in a way, a singular tree producing a unique fruit. The only thing I can do as a painter is tend to this process. That means very basic things. Living a healthy life so that you’re able to do it, sitting in front of the canvas, giving it attention. Not abusing it. Not destroying the tree by forcing it to produce fruit.”






This sentiment, and a response to a dream Ernst had in Japan last autumn, where he saw his name engraved on a mirror. A hand erases the engraving, the name disappears, and the reflection as well. A voice asks: “Who are you?” He doesn’t know how to respond. This is where Calamondin begins. Not with an answer, but with the question.
Ernst’s exhibition brings together paintings that arrived slowly, through a process the artist describes as less about creation and more about cultivation. Living in his studio is a small calamondin tree. The same tree that gives the exhibition its title. Having almost died not long ago, Ernst cooked the fruit and ate it. Ending a cycle in a way. When returning from a recent trip to Japan, the tree had small flowers. By the time he was finishing the works for this exhibition, it had begun to bear fruit. He is clear that this is not a metaphor that he alone conjured. It is simply an observation that important things are never forced; instead, they are cultivated. And sometimes, he reflects, something has to die first.
For more information, please consult Crèvecœur’s website here →






Last Updated on July 9, 2026

