Rauch was born in 1960 and, after the accidental death of both of his parents when he was four weeks old, raised by his grandparents in Aschersleben, within the borders of the East German communist regime. His artwork reflects this.

He studied art at the Leipzig Academy and became a master student in 1990, furthering his studies as an assistant. In 2002 he won the prestigious Vincent Van Gogh Bi-annual Award. His work has been exhibited at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, and in Europe and Asia. Last year he was honored with an exhibition at the Albertina in Vienna, on the billing with Michelangelo and Rubens.

When asked how he felt about having his work exhibited with the masters, he said, "It felt as if a lion was walking around in the next room."

There was a time when Rauch was more of an abstract expressionist than a social realist. "A big change occurred in the late '80s," he said. "I saw my work as a circus tent, very colorful, but without the structure to hold it up. I realized that I needed to become a carpenter first, lay the poles and build a structure, and then I could erect the tent and put the circus inside it."

"Ausflug, 1998," an oil on canvas, shows an airport scene separated by what appears to be layers of cutout horses.

"I had to say something, but I also needed the painting to speak," he said. He scratched the color layers to find out what he could save as forms and shapes, and began to construct an intention, a foundation for what he wanted to communicate unfettered by color.

The real gift of this specific collection is that we can see Rauch's growth process. These works encapsulate a visual journal of a period when he began to give a voice to his paintings, and a shape to what he wanted to say.

Rauch's stories aren't necessarily happy ones, yet they aren't exactly gloomy, either. He is more of a philosophical painter with a brush and color, focused on themes of work and production. However, the ambiguity of Rauch's compositions and images suggests an examination of the dubious rationale for our very busy working world lives.

On closer examination, if we put ourselves in his paintings, we can't help but ask ourselves, "What are we really doing?"

"Quelle, 1999" is so visually strong and billboard-like that it could probably be seen a half-mile away.

The division of concurrent realities is clearly visible in Rauch's paintings. In "November, 2000" (oil on paper), a vertical line separates a monument surrounded by trees and a highway from a store-like scene in which replicas of the monument are on display and being sold by a worker to two customers. The counter in the store is suggestive of a continuation of the highway.

"Ausflug, 1998" (oil on canvas) is also divided. Here, an airport scene is separated by what appears to be layers of multi-colored cutout horses.

"Das Museum, 1996" (oil on paper on canvas) is a painting based on a dream. "I often have dreams of exhibitions that do not exist," said Rauch. "They are always frightening and evoke a feeling of envy."

Some of the paintings in his dream are reproduced on the walls in this imaginary museum. In the left corner is a woman in a shimmering harness. "She is an archangel," said Rauch, "deconstructed and put back together."

The largest work in the show is a blue- and cream-colored triptych, "Quelle, 1999" (oil on canvas). Three men and one woman fill, and wait to fill, their large urns with water from a tap. This work is so beautifully executed, visually strong and billboard-like that it could probably be visible from a half-mile away.

It is good to note that color has returned to Rauch's more recent works — florescent greens, hot pinks and electric blues.

Yet, the real talent that Rauch possesses is that he can deftly paint life's conundrums without poking the answers in your eyes.

Despite his rapid rise to fame (there are a list of collectors waiting for paintings he hasn't even begun), Rauch doesn't like being a public persona. He is a hard-working family man who puts in a five-day work week and takes weekends off. On workdays, he rides his bicycle 6.2 miles to his studio in the loft of an old Leipzig cotton mill. Rauch shares the studio with

his wife, Rosa, who is also an artist. Weekends give him time to enjoy his family, the distance he needs to judge his work and a chance for the oil paints to dry before he begins to paint again.

Rauch paints to music, usually rock 'n' roll. He doesn't use models or photographs. "All of the figures in my work come from my memory," he said. He admits that he sometimes paints himself in his work, unknowingly. He doesn't prepare the canvas but works directly with the paint.

"I see the blank canvas as a field of snow, and I take joy in the possibilities," he said. He works on five or six large canvases, set up in a circle, at once. "This way, they talk with each other and help each other grow."