Busch sometimes chooses places that one might already have been to. Sometimes his paintings recall images from art history: the solitary house, gardens suffused by light, views of mountain peaks. Yet it remains vague where these memories come from. The depicted locations are those perceived fleetingly, in passing – in-between places – places on the periphery of human activity: the last house in the settlement, the rear side of a hotel, or a wall in the park. In all this, human beings seem to play a subsidiary part. The occasional figure moves casually through the picture, making minimal gestures.
Busch chooses his images out of intuitive fascination. Often, his paintings are based on postcards and photographs taken by the artist. However, Busch never consciously goes image hunting. His work involves waiting for the moment in which the right image becomes visible. It is precisely the triviality of Busch’s scenes, which causes their evocative effect. Within themselves they tell very little. Yet, as fragments and details, they leave ample room for imagination and memory, becoming prototypes of the already seen.