06 march 2025, Martine Bontjes
The studio of… Celine van den Boorn
Celine van den Boorn prefers to work without fixed routines. Her studio is located in an old school building with large windows that open up to a green inner courtyard. Music plays from her radio, and while the tea slowly brews, she chooses the work she feels most drawn to that day. Over the past year, she has been working on a new series of photographic paintings. Sometimes these are places of paradise, but more frequently they are areas of conflict that capture her attention.
As part of the group exhibition ‘Promise that you will sing about me’ at Galerie Vriend van Bavink, Van den Boorn presents her series ‘Crossing the European border’ and ‘Passage to Europe’. At the centre we see a powerful image of a river on the border between Macedonia and Greece. What catches the eye are the hands that seem to float through the river: “You can see the tension of children desperately holding on or the expression of helping hands making a reaching gesture. These hands speak volumes.” Van den Boorn lets us reflect on the strength of humaneness – even in times of crisis.
The group exhibition ‘Promise that you will sing about me’ at Galerie Vriend van Bavink is on display until 15 March.
Where is your studio and can you describe what it looks like?
My studio is located in an old school building just behind Haarlemmerstraat in Amsterdam. I’ve been working here for almost 20 years. It’s a charming building shared with other artists and designers. The studio is quite ideal: it has high ceilings, a parquet floor, and large windows overlooking a green courtyard.
What does a typical day at your studio look like? Do you have any routines to get started?
Ha, I live with very few routines and mostly rely on my intuition. When I arrive, I first take a fresh look at the work I’m currently involved in. I usually paint on several easels at the same time, and I have ideas and sketches for new works spread out on tables. I make a pot of tea, turn on the radio, and then choose the work I feel most drawn to continue.
In your work, you combine photographs with paintings. How do you begin a new piece? Do the photographic images come first, inspiring a new work? Or do the images exist in your mind, and then you search for corresponding photographs later?
It is the images I see in the news (newspaper or online) that give me an idea for new work. For my work, I use press photos of, in my view, wrenching encounters of humans and nature as I observe them in the global refugee crisis, military conflicts and tourism.
By "painting away" the human presence in these photos, I shift the focus from the subject to the surrounding landscape. At the same time, parts of the original image remain tangible and visible, as they remain unpainted (such as the hands) or as painted contours stand out matte against the shiny picture. By drawing attention to the "painted away" elements, I try to create tension in the image between reality and our desire to see what we want.
In your new work, we are looking at a conflict zone, with a river on the border between Macedonia and Greece. What drew you to this image? And why focus on the hands rather than the faces of the people?
These photos deeply moved me — the fear of these people, children on their shoulders. It’s the desperation that drives them to cross a freezing river with a strong current, seeking a better life in Europe. There are also the hands of volunteers helping refugees cross. We tend to focus our gaze on faces in photographs, but I noticed that in the hands, emotions are visible in a much more subtle way. You can see the tension of children desperately holding on or the expression of helping hands making a reaching gesture. These hands speak volumes — they represent the fear and hope of these people. They address the current situation, but the humanity in times of crisis that you see here is timeless.
In a recent interview, you said, “Humans greatly influence the environment with their presence.” What exactly do you mean by that?
An image of a mountain landscape with a group of hikers having a picnic carries a different weight than the same landscape when a heavily armed patrol walks through it. In press photography, the landscape almost always serves as a backdrop for what humans are doing there. My fascination with this subject led me to further explore the relationship between humans and nature after my studies at HKU. Through a self-curated study in Cultural Anthropology, I spent five years diving into various facets of this human-nature relationship. This process became a rich source for the development of my visual work. It also helped me sharpen my sensitivity to this contrast, and I’m always aware of the role of humans in the landscape, no matter where I am.
In your work, you suggest that we can only truly experience nature when humans are absent. What makes it that nature can only be truly experienced without human interference? And what places do you visit when you want to escape the crowds?
The landscape seems to stand on its own only when there are no visible humans. But truly untouched nature is quite rare these days, and I think that scarcity has led to a growing desire for sublime landscapes and sublime experiences. People seek nature to get something for themselves: happiness, peace, a moment of reflection, or to tick off an ‘experience’ on their bucket list. This yearning for untouched nature is both fulfilled and undermined in my work. Humans disappear, but never entirely — there is always a trace left behind, a vague memory of their presence. This creates a 'between-landscape' in my work, where nature is not fully pure, and humans never fully disappear, but linger like a shadow.
To find peace, I enjoy walking in forests and dunes. While traveling or on holiday, I can endlessly look at groups of tourists at natural hot-spots and the commercialization of nature, with fences, paths, signs, viewpoints, arrows, and benches.
What seems like an innocent and untouched landscape turns out to be a charged image upon closer inspection. By keeping humans in shadow form, an interesting tension arises in the image, and I aim to highlight the impermanence and lasting traces of human presence in the landscape. It creates a feeling of both absence and presence, inviting the viewer to think about time, change, and the way we influence the world around us.
In your work, you reflect on current events and fleeting news images. What do you think changes in perception when people experience your work in an artistic setting, like at Galerie Vriend van Bavink?
People often first see something intriguing in my work and then, upon closer inspection, realise that these works are layered not only in technique but also in meaning. The viewer is lured with attractive or intriguing imagery, and then, by looking more closely, becomes aware of a different reality. While we often quickly scroll past lighter images in news reports and become desensitized to confronting images, my work challenges you to pause and reflect on what you're seeing and think about the story behind the images.
Soon you will be showcasing your work at Art Rotterdam. What can we expect there?At Art Rotterdam, alongside this series (“Passage to Europe”), there will be other works related to the refugee crisis. I will also show new work about tourism, which balances between the feeling of an abandoned and an overcrowded beach.
What are you currently working on?
I am preparing for Art Rotterdam an I am also working on the exhibition 'Reflective Landscape, 80 Years of Freedom' at Paviljoen Welgelegen in Haarlem (17 April - 11 June). Additionally, I’m researching the role of humans in Romantic painting in relation to current selfie culture and tourism.
