We’re you exposed to art while growing up?
I come from a family of teachers with little special interest in art or design. Besides his work, my father was a church organist and my mother was involved in Hindelooper painting, traditional folk painting from the Frisian town of Hindeloopen. In this way they gave their creativity a place in their own way. My parents chose safety because of their profession. That has inspired me to look for risk and not to shy away from adventure. As a result, I made the choices that brought me to where I am today. If something touches me, I immerse myself in it, and I like to invest in it. Regardless of the outcome.
How did you come into contact with the art world?
From an early age, I took great interest in comics and illustrations. As a child, comic books were a world that I could get lost in for hours. I was fascinated by the techniques, the lines and the colours. The story came second to me. To this day I struggle to identify what sparked this passion in the first place. As a child, I was attracted to the world of illustration more and more actively. I went to get autographs from Keith Haring, who at the time worked with Hans Sonnenberg from Galerie Delta in Rotterdam. The longer our conversation, the bigger the drawing I could take home.
Around the age of twelve, the door to the art world was opened for me. At school we discussed the work of Karel Appel. Many children laughed, because it was so different from what we were used to from art. That's when the light came on for me. I found it very inspiring to see someone so free and unconventional. Karel Appel's work shook me awake. It is seldom that art does this so penetratingly and therefore all the more special.
Not much later, my love for art was further nurtured by an exhibition by David Hockney in Museum Boijmans van Beuningen. This is where my love for illustration techniques blended with the world of art. Not much later I became more and more interested in the content and I became intrigued by the work of Rob Scholte and Eugène Brands. Oddly enough, Brands is an artist that I can hardly describe in words. He worked with the idea that everything flows and is transient, I can only see Brands by feeling.
What was your first job in a gallery? Or did you immediately start a gallery yourself?
In 1994, I started as an independent graphic designer. At the time, I used a substantial portion of the profits I made to buy art and design. My company developed into a serious graphic design agency and a collaboration with Piet Hein Eek was created for spatial work. When I first saw his 'Classic cabinet in scrap wood', I thought: this is the art of the future. Back then, art and design were still two separate worlds. Art is not functional and therefore something with function could never be art. In the meantime, this collaboration has been going on for twenty years and Dutch Design is a well-known concept. For me, the combination of my graphic design agency and art was always very logical.
At the time, I was working in a space that lent itself well to a gallery. Without realizing it, I was talking to people about what art meant and before I knew it they wanted to buy the works from me. The gallery took off and at the same time the world of graphic design shifted more and more to online expressions. That was a development that did not suit me and I therefore decided to focus entirely on the gallery. I continued to use graphic design to make the gallery even more complete; with the books I publish, the invitations, posters, and the publications I try to define and record exhibitions.
How would you describe your gallery’s profile?
The gallery is reflects my personal taste, which together entails a collection of particularities. For many people this is how they experience the gallery. With a hasty look there is little cohesion, but once inside it is a wonderful convergence of different disciplines: from painting to drawing, from ceramics to Dutch Design, from illustration to poetry.
All these different art forms have in common that I firmly believe that they are of such quality that they deserve the attention of the eye. I am most proud of the fact that I have been able to represent Armando for years and that I own the rights to his most important novel: De straat en het struikgewas (The Street and the Bushes). Armando was not in the habit of explaining his works, but he referred anyone who had questions to this novel. The answers, he said, were hidden there.
The second aspect that defines the profile of the gallery is behind the scenes. I work together with a team of professionals who all deliver the highest quality. Thanks to these critical designers, skilled printers, Mertens as framer and our regular photographer, the gallery always operates in the way I envision it.
What do you think is the best part of being a gallerist?
As a gallerist you are closely involved with the artist and the creation of works. It is the many paintings I have seen arise, the weekly studio visits, the interaction that inspires me every day to go the extra mile for both the gallery and the artists I work with. This manifests itself in various ways. The books we publish and the exhibitions we create ensure that we can view archives and continue to have substantive conversations with artists, writers, collectors, critics and designers. But also proposing and developing ideas.
Every so often even the boundaries between the artist and gallerist become blurred. Those moments are extra special to me; again and again that intellectual challenge. Good examples of this are the many projects with Klaas Gubbels, the outdoor sculptures and wall hangings that I publish with Kamagurka, and how I gave James Aldridge room to exhibit an eight metre long painting. Sometimes the influence on one's work manifests itself more subtly. I once gave an artist I represented a birthday present: a wooden box filled to the brim with the most beautiful pencils. From that moment on, you saw that artist's drawings change dramatically.
Which national / international galleries do you feel an affinity with?
My gallery and personality coincide. That's why I like to look for places that surprise me or that I find difficult to understand when I'm not working with the gallery; this can be in the field of urban planning, but also galleries, restaurants, project spaces or exceptional bookshops in, for example, Belgium, Germany, Paris and across Asia. Things that are so far removed from me that I don't quite know what to do with it. The elusive attracts me. In general, they are better able to surprise me over the border. But that may also be due to the fact I am more relaxed over there than in Rotterdam and in my gallery; I can take some time off and allow myself to be stimulated by new influences.
In an ideal world, which artist would you most like to represent?
In the gallery everything is exactly as it should be. I believe that if you stand for what you value, the right people will automatically present themselves. The history of my gallery is proof of that. The collaborations with the aforementioned Piet Hein Eek, Klaas Gubbels, Armando, Thé Tjong-Khing, Helen Frik, James Aldridge, Hans Hovy and Kamagurka are close to my heart. Maarten Baas is back with his Clay objects.
The group of artists that we have been able to collect around us over the years are exactly the people who belong to the gallery. That's how it should have been. I am very happy with the collaborations with the estates of Eugène Brands and Armando. Soon we will be able to add the collaboration with the estate of another great artist. This makes a long-cherished wish come true. I am happy to say that many of my goals have been achieved. This gives the gallery the freedom to make choices with the future in mind, and to be open to a new approach. Time will tell which way we go. In any case, I will be guided by my intuition as always.
What has changed in the art world since you took your first steps?
Over the years I have gradually adopted a more autonomous approach to work. I was early in introducing Dutch Design and this came in for a lot of criticism, especially from the art world: the merging of autonomous and applied art was highly unusual. To this day I find that an interesting combination and, contrary to what some colleagues think, it is not a commercial choice at all.
Pretty soon, Dutch and foreign museums started buying from me and after a while the criticism slowly ebbed away. I've always chosen to follow what I believe in, but in those early days I sometimes wondered what others would think. The irony is that the biggest critics are the same people who have never set foot in the gallery. Over the years I have been able to enjoy all the visitors and special collaborations more and more. The question of what others think of it no longer occurs to me.
What / whose work do you collect yourself?
All the artists I represent are in my personal collection. All of Eugène Brands’ periods and all themes are present and Armando is represented with his paintings, drawings, bronzes and manuscripts. James Aldridge's ten meter long 'Cold Mouth Prayer' adorned the walls of the Tate Modern restaurant for years. This has now acquired a spacious place on one of my walls. My two-decades-spanning collaboration with Piet Hein Eek is represented by an unparalleled, meters high old window cabinet. Maarten Baas' chair represents our first exhibition from 2006. Thé Tjong-Khing housed all his published drawings in the Literature Museum, except for one, which he gave me. My personal collection focuses on misfits, key works; my personal stories attached to a work.
This is the way I a hope my customers will collect as well. At our – as I now know – last visit to Armando in Potsdam I bought his last works. Klaas Gubbels is currently working on an outdoor sculpture on the roof of my house above the gallery, which will only be visible from the tall buildings around and from the Boijmans Depot. Unfortunately, the early installation of Studio Drift was anchored to the wall of my previous house. I left it there. I have a huge collection of poetry, which wonderfully enriches the art and design collection.
In addition to the above artists, I own work by David Shrigley, Wim Wenders, Rob Scholte, Dick Bruna, Anton Corbijn, Hergé and Marlene Dumas, among others. All these works have the same effect on me as Karel Appel once had on me as a child. Their attraction is inescapable. They shake you up. Seeing them is like turning on a light.
Has the pandemic changed the way you see the artworld?
The pandemic gave me the opportunity to work in a way that suits me in every respect. In 2017, we organised an opening with a disappointing turn out due to the sweltering weather. Only about thirty people dropped by. The evening resulted in an extensive dinner in Hotel New York with all those present. Normally, I would look back at the photos of an opening and marvel at everyone who had attended, had been photographed or had passed me by for some unknown reason. This time around, however, I could remember every detail of every conversation the next day. It became one of my best selling exhibition ever. Maybe that's why!
This experience taught me that success comes in intimacy and it gave me the final push to change the way I operate. We are open to the public from Thursday to Saturday, but I prefer to make an appointment with regular/potential customers. In this way we can free up the time and attention for everyone.
The idea of working from peace and intimacy therefore already started in 2017, but the pandemic ensured that we have expanded this practice even further. In a situation of lockdowns and forced digitization, it was attractive for many galleries to set up new digital projects. We did not go down that route. We have used this period of silence to reflect and re-direct the gallery. We have intensified the ties with our artists. Finally, we had time for all the ideas that normally stay on the shelf.
We live in times in which everything is becoming increasingly volatile and online. It is my belief that those who dare to stand still, dare to take time and space, will be the ones who will make the most impact.ruimte durven te nemen,