What do art lovers like? Where do they buy their art and, most importantly, what do they buy? This week with Wieteke van Zeil – Author and television host (age 47)
What does art mean to you?
Looking at art is a form of play, just as making art is playing. You face the unknown, while something is going on in your head. Like a game of football or chess, it can go either way; the artwork is your opponent. Sometimes emotions, associations or memories are released that you didn't even know you had. I also think it's a nice idea that art can fulfill the same role for the viewer as a hug for a child; an animate object. In psychoanalysis this is called a 'transitional object', an object that allows one to process emotions, and which is experienced as alive.
No, my father thought art was superfluous nonsense. He did give me space and eventually became enthusiastic. Now he reads one of my pieces on the details of artworks to my mother, who is ill, every day. In retrospect I can point out a few moments that have been like 'sparks' to choose art; graffiti piqued my interest, there was a school trip that made me cry in front of a Monet, arts and crafts teachers taught me how to make things, but also to look closely, and then I jumped in at the deep end and went to study art history. I now consider the fact that art has never been self-evident to me as my greatest advantage.
Where do you read about the latest developments in the art world?
For years I was alert to all art news, because I was a reporter and critic for de Volkskrant. The Art Newspaper, ArtNews, international and national newspapers and contacts were my main sources. Now that I am free to write what I want, I wander more, miss more, and notice things better.
Where do you read about the latest developments in the art world?
For years I was alert to all art news, because I was a reporter and critic for de Volkskrant. The Art Newspaper, ArtNews, international and national newspapers and contacts were my main sources. Now that I am free to write what I want, I wander more, miss more, and notice things better.
How often do you buy art each year? Do you buy editions or do you prefer unique pieces?
I think about three to five times a year, sometimes smaller editioned works. Whether it is an edition, a unique work, photos, paintings, pictures, or a rug doesn't matter. We choose art that fascinates us, and that we can afford, of course.
Where do you do your buying: in a gallery, at an art fair, at an auction or online?
Usually through the artist at the gallery, sometimes directly from the artist. In any case, I must have seen the work in person; material, size and presence matter.
Is it important that you and your partner always agree on a purchase?
Yes, because we bring it into our shared space. But it comes naturally. All the artworks we own are by artist friends, or artists my husband Giuseppe and I have met through work. In my private life I allow myself the intimacy of choosing by feeling – after all, we live with those works. The works of art are part of our living environment and sometimes mark memories and periods. Together they are therefore also about our love, our fun and our interests. And I think it's great that we know the path that the artists have traveled to their work. Although I would like to buy a work from the 16th or 17th century at an auction or Chinese porcelain.
Do you have a special relationship with any one gallery?
Fons Welters in Amsterdam was the first gallerist I got to know personally, when two fellow students started working for him and my childhood friend Jennifer Tee came onto his roster. I feel akin to his intuitive view of art and his attention to material, and I am always curious about his exhibitions. Although I seldom attend openings.
If you had an unlimited budget, whose work would you buy?
Oh, have you got a minute? A quilt by Bisa Butler, because she gives the technique a new twist and uses it to create explosive, topical portraits. A drawing by Albrecht Dürer; you don't get any closer to the artist's head. A still life by Maria van Oosterwyck, the hidden treasure of the Dutch 17th century. A portrait of Sofonisba Anguissola, because she can make her sitters laugh as if they are hiding something. A nude of Cecily Brown, because she dares more than I dare to think. Marlene Dumas! Just for her palette. A thin landscape by Jan Mankes or a 'melted' Persian carpet by Faig Ahmed. A 19th century Japanese woodcut on crépon – paper that has been worked to resemble fabric. I can't handle this kind of question. Too many windows are opening in my head.
Who are your favourite artists (on Gallery Viewer) and why?
I would probably mention other favorites anytime you ask, but now I'm coming up with a few artists who came up with their own game, and who work with their material in a completely original way: Claudy Jongstra, Maartje Korstanje and Maria Roosen. And Natasja Kensmil is the most interesting painter in the Netherlands. Her handling of the paint, her palette and subject – it's almost as if she does away with all earthly matters.