Wie was mijn vader voordat hij mijn vader was?

A space for silence

Doorgang/ passage way

Ik klop op de deur van mijn jeugd.

Ik wil het gevoel daarvan weer binnengaan;

Maar de tuin is op slot, de toegang is versperd,

Ik blijf alleen en verlaten achter.

Amir Hamzah

I combine this with film images that are retrieved by the viewer with augmented reality.

These film images refer to the present, tell stories, somanystories.

Crosses and the search for peace

You can see my old work as a metaphor for my busy thinking: countless paths in vertical and horizontal directions: 'my crosses'. These crosses kept coming back unconsciously as a call to peace.

The old works, also called 'spaces', have experienced many things since and are now being examined again by me.

Loss and decay

For example, I started cutting pieces out of it and discovered that those 'negative spaces' actually created more peace in the compositions.

The black hole

A painting is hidden like a new skin in a bench, which has given this bench a new dimension in which the viewer is asked about 2 sides of the story. Sitting on a shape, a body in the shape of a couch, its back turned to the story of the painting, screaming for attention, the black hole.

Skin

Our skin can also be seen as a metaphor as the protection of your soul, your thinking, your identity or precisely the space in which all this is captured. Tattoos started appearing around me over the last 20 years and seemed to me to form more of a fortress for the wearer. I didn't like immortalizing it on my own house, but I discovered that I was collecting alternate skins. Lately I have been making installations of frames (old tents that have connotations of travel, flight, transience).

An example of such an installation is the table that for me as a child was the place where I did not simply sit with a chair at it, in the middle of the large family, but underneath it. With a cozy blanket and all kinds of metal knickknacks and a magnet. I built all kinds of new towers with that magnet.

 The old painting here has become a piece of tablecloth under which this story is hidden.