The works of Frode Bolhuis (1979, NL) are not to be understood. They are full of meaning, but impossible to fully unravel, like life itself. Rich in narrative they might take you to a familiar place. You’ll see the traces of religion, the signs of starvation or moments of surrender. Yet it’s always more; it’s the religion fading in a world of reason and reason losing itself in isolation. It’s the inner feelings of generations instead of that of one person. It goes beyond that and it shows itself in a sea of colour.
These bright colours might be the first thing that attracts the viewer; they are as unusual as the depiction of the works. The pastel colours mixed with neon and an occasional black are both lively and unexpectedly silent. It all adds to the fact that the works are significantly incomprehensible.