14 may 2025, Martine Bontjes
The studio of... Mariëtte van der Ven
On the edge of the Biesbosch National Park, surrounded by a garden full of flowers, fruit trees and singing birds, lies the studio of Mariëtte van der Ven. It is a former company home with a warehouse that she and her husband transformed into a home and workplace. For the past seventeen years, Van der Ven has been working here on her layered ceramic sculptures. Her sculptures are fed by the rhythm of the seasons and the tranquillity of her surroundings. Yet it is rarely quiet in her studio, here you can hear the sound of wet clay being struck with a mallet or the sharp sound of her angle grinder. Then begins the long process of shaping, scraping and refining “until the sculpture comes to life.”
For her group exhibition "UNRAVEL" at Project 2.0 Gallery, Van der Ven was guided by her poetic activism. Through her sculptures, she expresses her critical view of the unequal relationship between human and nature. She incorporated elements from her garden into her sculptures, such as leaves or the texture of branches. Her new works feature the reliefs of thorns, bird feet and feathers. The exhibition opens this Saturday, 17 May at 3:00 pm at Project 2.0 Gallery in The Hague.
Your studio is nestled in the heart of nature. How long have you been working here, and how would you describe this place?
Seventeen years ago, my husband and I bought a large house with a shed, once used as a hoisting facility. It offered space for our blended family and for my studio. We completely renovated the house and after much hard work, it truly feels like home. We turned the outdoor area into a green oasis with trees, hedges, flowers, an orchard and a vegetable garden. In the greenhouse I sow vegetables and flowers, so that in summer we can eat and pick as much as possible from our own garden. The garden attracts many birds, from finches and sparrows to jays. Sometimes we get rare visitors, such as a great spotted woodpecker and once even an owl landed just five metres away. A magical moment. My studio overlooks the garden and is a spacious, light-filled place where I can work in peace.
The studio of Mariëtte van der Ven
What material can we find on your worktable? Do you have a favourite tool you can't work without?
Over the years I’ve collected hundreds of tools, but I usually only use about ten to twenty. I always keep a tray of favourites on my table: spatulas, mirettes, ribs, a cutting wire, a scraper, a wooden bat and a bowl of water with brushes. I also keep plastic sheeting, a plant mister, a turntable and my reading glasses within reach. For porcelain, I especially like using an old, worn spatula that has just the right shape and sharpness. For larger pieces, I use more robust tools.
Let’s say I spent a day as your intern. What would a typical day in your studio be like?
If you were my intern, the day would begin with a morning walk with the dogs in the Biesbosch. When we return, we make coffee and walk straight from the kitchen to the studio. In winter we light the stove and put on music. In summer, I usually start with making a stroll through the garden. Every workday is different, but usually I continue working on a sculpture. Once it’s finished, it needs to be hollowed out, a nerve-wracking process. I cut the piece into sections, hollow them and then reassemble them. Then everything has to be meticulously finished again. Other tasks include loading the kiln, testing glazes or recycling clay. I take a short lunch break and continue working in the afternoon. At the end of the day I cover the work to keep it moist. Sometimes I go for a run or another walk with the dogs. In the evening, I often return to the studio to do some more work or sketch out ideas.
Mariëtte van der Ven, Bisous, 2023, Project 2.0 Gallery
Your favourite part seems to be the head. What makes the head such a powerful tool for telling a story?
The head, and especially the face, reveals everything about the inner life of a person, which is exactly what fascinates me. The body can also show how someone feels, but it’s in the face where so much can be read. A corner of the mouth raised or lowered by just a millimetre can already convey a completely different emotion. Within all that human similarity, there are endless variations, and by observing people closely, I keep discovering new forms and proportions. I translate this rich visual language into my sculpted heads. Not as traditional portraits, but as vessels for emotion and thought. When I’m working on a head, there comes a moment when the piece becomes inspirited, and I fall in love with it. That moment still moves me. It tells me the sculpture is finished. If that moment doesn’t come, I break down the piece and start over.
In your recent porcelain works, the relationship between human and nature seems more present than ever. Would you describe your work as activist?
Over the past thirty-five years, I’ve come to understand why certain subjects or forms emerged in my work. It always turned out to be connected to a phase in my life, a phase I couldn’t fully grasp while I was in it, but could later interpret. Looking at myself as an outsider, I notice my gaze has recently turned inward. Perhaps the introspection and softness have to do with aging, or with a growing desire to come closer to my own core and I use it as a source of imagination. While my recent work may look more gentle, it hasn’t lost its depth. A quiet yet powerful dissatisfaction about the world runs through it. "Poetic activism" is a term that came to mind when I reflected on this new phase in my work: vulnerable, sensitive, yet marked by a sense of urgency.
Mariëtte van der Ven, Appropriation, 2024, Project 2.0 Gallery
In your work "Birdie," a female figure with long braided hair and curled fingers lies peacefully on her back. What are you expressing with this sculpture?
More and more, my sculptures are becoming symbiotic figures in which human and nature merge. My love for nature and my belief that we are intrinsically part of it leads me to create work where these worlds blend. "Birdie" is an example of this: a hybrid being shaped like a human, but with bird feet for hands and feathers seemingly growing from her body.
Mariëtte van der Ven, Birdie, Project 2.0 Gallery
Is there a piece to which you feel a particularly strong emotional connection?
"Dolorosa" is a sculpture of a woman with closed eyes, a silent head, lined on the inside with ceramic thorns. I made the thorns from rose branches in my own garden and cast them in a mould so I could reproduce them. While creating this piece, I deeply felt my own emotions and inner struggles, which inevitably became part of it. When I was applying the copper oxide wash, I was suddenly moved by the tender and vulnerable expression of the sculpture, and tears unexpectedly streamed down my face. A truly special and intense experience.
In "Appropriation," a woman holds two feathers. Can you tell us what they symbolise?
This porcelain figure is decorated with glaze pencil in the form of a feathered cloak. The woman has appropriated the colours of a bird, leaving its feathers bare. The work is about natural appropriation, how humans take far more from nature than is sustainable, with all the dramatic consequences that follow. The golden hands underline human greed.
Mariëtte van der Ven, Dolorosa, 2024, Project 2.0 Gallery
You don’t limit yourself to ceramics. Could you tell us more about your mixed media projects and how they relate to your ceramic work?
Although clay is my greatest love, I work with a variety of materials. Ceramics is often the base, but I frequently combine it with wood, textiles or other materials, especially for commissions. I’m currently working on a large sculpture for a castle in Italy, made from PIR blocks on a metal frame and finished with epoxy and polyurea. Because of the scale and design, clay wasn’t an option. In 2019, my design won the competition for the mayoral chain of the new municipality of Altena. It was crafted by a local goldsmith from silver donated by residents. I’ve also designed seating objects for public spaces in wood, metal and concrete. The concept always determines the material. In my autonomous work, I usually choose ceramics. For commissions, I use whatever suits the function and location.
Are there any projects you would like to realise in the future?
Once I finish my current commission, I would love to return to making larger ceramic works. It would be wonderful to show them in a museum again, as I have done in the past, for example at the Princessehof Ceramics Museum or the Gorcums Museum. So curators, you’re welcome.
If you had not become an artist, what other path would you have followed?
That’s a hard question, because I knew I wanted to be an artist from the age of fifteen. I initially enrolled at the art academy to study fashion design, but ultimately became a sculptor. In my foundation year, a teacher saw the sculptor in me. That observation made me think and led me to choose sculpture. If I hadn’t been accepted to art school, I would have studied law. I’ve always had a strong sense of justice. The vulnerable people and natural subjects now central to my work are causes I might have supported in a legal role instead.
