29 october 2021, Oscar van Gelderen
The gallery of... Franzis Engels
We’re you exposed to art while growing up?
My mother sang in the church choir, I myself sang in the girls' choir of the church. I knew the Matthäus Passion by heart in a Dutch translation. Also many Gregorian chants, because we were allowed to sing at high masses, weddings and funerals and on Christmas night. I was suspended due to my impetuous behaviour (swearing in church, something like that). Once in high school we went to a performance of Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake. I mainly knew paintings from history books, in which paintings by Rembrandt and Jan Steen were used as illustrations to visualize an image of the time or event. That was about it…
Gugenheim Bilbao, Louise Bourgeois, 2004.
How did you come into contact with the art world?
At the training college at the Brothers van Zwijssen, we were taught 'Art History' for a semester, in the context of the general education of us, the trainees. The course was taught in a darkened room, and the teacher projected images onto the wall. That started with antiquity, of course, followed by the Middle Ages, and then the Renaissance. It didn't come across very well to a group of moderately interested teenagers. To the rest of the group it must have been dull, but as several hundred images passed by a world opened up for me. Then he switched to the nudes. He showed the lavish nudes of Rubens and the Birth of Venus by Botticelli, the perfect body of Michelangelo's David. Fortunately, he managed to keep the group’s attention, and the enthusiasm of the teacher came into its own. The moment that would determine the rest of my life, was when the teacher projected a photo of The Three Graces by Peter Paul Rubens and started jumping with enthusiasm in front on the work while smacking the buttocks and with flat hand of the middle woman: what an expression human flesh, such realistic buttocks, such a beautiful woman! The sound of his blows on the wall really sounded like the chatter of a blow to flesh.
In a flash it dawned on me that you can see, experience the world in many different ways. What one person finds beautiful and interesting may not interest another, or someone else finds it ugly. And how relative that is, that - by looking differently yourself - opening yourself up to what you see, you can enrich yourself. And that artists can make that happen. I knew that the art history teacher frequented a certain pub. I became a regular customer in that pub where the cultural elite of Tilburg used to come, and I spent many hours there broadening my view of the world.
Biënnale Venetië, Chiaru Shiota, 2015.
What was your first job in a gallery? Or did you immediately start a gallery yourself?
In 2008 we had to contend with a deep economic depression and the three galleries representing my husband, Kees de Vries, closed down. Not only did he lose his presentation platforms, so did many artists from our circle of friends and acquaintances. During that period I was messing around with some small jobs. “How hard can it be,” I thought, “to sell art yourself?” We live in a four-storey house, Kees' studio was on the top floor. So we shoved his stuff in a corner, took our own art off the wall, and covered the whole house with art from him and one of our friends.
Fortunately, Kees had tried to maintain a customer database as best he could. Everyone in there received an invitation, plus everyone from our social network. We flyered at buildings with a lot of mailboxes, at least that went well, and handed them out at the exit of art fairs. Then we were chased off the fairs by angry managers. I've got a few customers from this, though, who really liked it. The concept became that the exhibiting artists themselves would actively invite their network. To stimulate this, they received a percentage of the art sold if one of their relations bought something. We also kept a small percentage ourselves to cover the costs. With sometimes ten artists per exhibition, the openings became great happenings with 200–300 people attending, and peaks up to 500.
We spread the openings over two days, otherwise it wouldn't fit in our house. I was preparing snacks with my daughter and her friends the day before. It was a great time, but we couldn't live off it. And it was also quite exhilarating to redecorate your whole house every six weeks, filling up and sanding all those holes in the walls, always finding a large group of artists to match, because the exhibits have a coherent story to tell. In 2014 we took the plunge and started a serious gallery: Galerie Franzis Engels was born.
Front view, gallery design, Tonneke Sengers, 2015.
How would you describe your gallery’s profile?
That is very hard to describe. The funny thing is that my customers say that they recognize my booth at an art fair from afar. I was told one-liners such as: 'clear concept', 'careful presentation', 'every work comes out beautifully' and 'light and accessible'.
Over the years I have changed the offer, it has grown so much. I choose the artists and the art that at a certain moment makes me enthusiastic, often greedy. Sometimes a work I see at a graduate show or somewhere else touches me, but it doesn't feel like 'my own' (whatever that is). Then I follow such an artist until the penny drops for me. That may be due to work, but also to my own development. My gallery's profile is actually a reflection of myself, and with each meeting I grow again.
Bad Homburg, Joana Vasconcelos, 2017.
What do you think is the best part of being a gallerist?
Actually the whole process; from a first meeting with an artist to installing a sold work at a customer. A client once told me, “You are by far the friendliest gallery I know.” He was referring to me and my partner who always tags along to install a work when I drop it off. But a highlight is finding a new artist that makes me enthusiastic, and that it seems to click at the first meeting. The experience of a creative mind sharing his or her ideas, thoughts and personality with me, that makes me feel so rich!
Art Basel, Hugo McCloud, 2018.
Which national / international galleries do you feel an affinity with?
None. I've collaborated with galleries abroad, but it didn't work out. That may sound a bit elitist, and it is, but art is so much more to me. We live in the gallery; the gallery lives in us. And that is quite different from a gallery in a separate space.
Installatie Marinke van Zandwijk, Big Art, 2019.
In an ideal world, which artist would you most like to represent?
I once dreamed about a gallery in which I can sell my icons (also because I can then buy them for our own collection for gallery prices, which makes a difference). Before the lockdown, I was in talks with Joana Vasconcelos to represent her in the Netherlands and Belgium. But then you talk to a manager (nice person, but still). And you have to go to Portugal to look for work. Transportation back and forth. You also do not immediately return work that has not been sold, so you are left with storage. as a one-person gallery, you can't actually work with artists of that calibre. Yet, I do want to grow in quality, but I don't want to hire people. As it is now I am pleased with my gallery. I do have a few artists in the Netherlands on my mind, but they are already represented by good galleries.
Installatie Ugo Rondinone, Lustwarande, 2021.
What has changed in the art world since you took your first steps?
I see an up and downward trend in which the artists have become more mobile. For a long time it was common for an artist to be affiliated with a few galleries. Sometimes even to a single gallery. You can still see that at the top galleries. But many artists no longer wanted that, they find their own way via the internet and are also easier to find. In the last two or three years, however, I have the feeling that artists would like to have a little more certainty.
For the artists you permanently represent you are willing to invest in fairs, documentation, regular exhibitions. You try to guide permanent artists with assignments, writing documentation, and by drawing attention of the press and collections. That provides a lot of added value. Outside the gallery world, there are currently a growing number of platforms where art is shown. That is a nice development, because very exciting work is often presented in those places and it makes artists less dependent on galleries with their somewhat more limited presentation options.
Kröller-Müller, Marinus Boezem, 2021.
What / whose work do you collect yourself?
Mostly work by the artists I work with myself. Currently, the works of Romee van Oers and Frederique Jonker are at the top of our wish list. Unfortunately, I really can't think of a place to hang them. We have racked our brains over that. Sometimes we also buy work from other artists. For example, I bought a rather kitschy black mirror from Bernard Heesen at the Kunstrai from Jan van Hoof (it looks nice on the toilet instead of a real mirror).
Before we started the gallery, we almost invariably bought art either through the galleries that represented Kees or from friends. We are not really collectors with a certain line. If something appeals to us, we buy it for the next gift moment and there are plenty of those.
Romee van Oers, First Room sketch design, 2021.
Has the pandemic changed the way you see the artworld?
Well, it hasn’t changed my ideas about the art world as much as it changed my thoughts about my own gallery. We have always been very concerned with our 'ecological footprint'; no distant holiday trips, no city trips and flights other than for work, vegetarian food, sustainable clothing. During the pandemic I took more time to read about the environment. And I have become even more aware of the depletion of the earth and the almost inescapable pandemics that are yet to come. I want to contribute minimally to that (but still continue to live and work well, which is why minimal). That is why, step by step, I said goodbye to almost all foreign artists I worked with. Only Ulrich Haug remains, because I had already made an appointment with him. Also, I will only sporadically participate in foreign art fairs (I don’t see Belgium as a foreign country).
And I hear this at other galleries too: should we be flying all over the world with our art? Do we really have to look for foreign talent? I wouldn't like to miss museum exhibitions with interesting international artists, and there are also a few galleries that really have to stick to their international programme to have an interesting offer in the Netherlands, but for myself I'm looking for something closer to home for now.
Wake-up call Patrick Bergsma, een urgent kunstwerk, 2021.
