In every drawing or small painting, we see how the movements of the brush
are placed around the motif of the image. That’s where its articulation begins as
well. It happens in a very circumspect manner — partly because, not infrequently,
there exists a certain ambiguity as to what the motif actually is. Is this a volume of
some object, or its outline in fact, or when several objects are involved (in a scene)
mainly the intervening spaces or even the shadows cast by the objects? When I
look at, and nose about in, the work of Heske de Vries, I see (basically as a manual
constant) how the motif is gradually and carefully touched on and explored by
the handwriting itself — and by the motion of that manual process. A motif is, in
principle, a motionless object (a vase of flowers on a table, a close-up of a floral dress)
but there is always suggestive space around it, in all directions. And the brush moves
in that space, giving rise to form and color. Usually the motif is simple or even vague
and unsteady in form. It has to be there, since some direction has to be found for the
movements of the brush, which might otherwise disappear. This can be compared
to a stream, where a stone doesn’t really disrupt the flow of water but does leave a
discreetly meandering trace of itself: a motif (every aspect of it) likewise gives the
brush a kind of guidance, while at the same time the brush, too, articulates the motif,
as though it had never been there entirely from the start or was merely developing.
R. Fuchs