01 january 2024, Wouter van den Eijkel
The studio of... Lisanne Hoogerwerf
After years of working in temporary studios, Lisanne Hoogerwerf has now found a permanent place in a creative hub near Moerwijk railway station in The Hague. This is particularly convenient because she is exhibiting more and more.
Lisanne Hoogerwerf (NL, 1987) builds miniature worlds, which she then photographs. Despite the vibrant colours, her work often exudes a sense of melancholy and abandonment. While desolation might be oppressive or frightening to some, she finds it comforting and calming. "What is most important to me is that the Earth doesn't need humans at all, but we need the Earth. Remove humans from the equation and a certain stillness and beauty returns."
The exhibition In Search of Lightness, featuring work by Lisanne Hoogerwerf and Vincent van Gaalen, is on display at Galerie Helder in The Hague until 20 January.
Since last summer, I've been working in a municipal building in The Hague near Moerwijk railway station. It's a creative hub with more than 40 artists and musicians. Apart from the lively atmosphere, a significant advantage is that the building is right by the water, so you can sit by the quay or take a boat ride in the summer. My studio is around 40 square meters. I've divided it into two sections: I set up my scenes and take photos in the front and in the back, I have various tables for building and drawing or, if I feel like it, playing the piano.
What does a typical day in your studio look like? Do you have routines, play music, receive visitors or none of the above?
As soon as I get up in the morning, I take a cold shower to wake up. After that, I meditate and/or exercise briefly and have breakfast, then quickly ride my bike to the studio. I try to stay away from my computer and phone as much as possible until the late afternoon. On 'working days,' when I don't have too many administrative tasks, I often take the SIM card out of my smartphone and put it into my old Nokia so that I'm not distracted. I often have minimalist piano music playing in the background while working. I like to have visitors, so anyone who wants to come take a look is more than welcome.
Not everyone who sees your work may immediately understand what they are looking at. Can you explain your creative process?
My works are photographs of landscapes that I build on a small scale in my studio. I do minimal digital editing, so everything you see in the picture—architecture, trees, the sky—is made with materials. I first spend a lot of time sketching and brainstorming.
Once I have a rough idea about what I want to create, I start collecting materials and building objects to use in my landscapes. This involves weeks of working with stirring sticks, acrylic paint, quick cement, small LED lights, pieces of cardboard and a glue gun. After collecting everything, I then paint several skies and backgrounds on large panels and create a solid foundation for the scene I want to build.
The final and most enjoyable phase of the process comes next, when everything comes together and coincidence plays a significant role. During this phase, I spend weeks experimenting with composition and light, sometimes taking up to a 100 pictures a day. This is the most enjoyable part because it's when the magic happens. Individual objects, lights and backgrounds suddenly transform into spatial scenes and landscapes.
I used to participate in lots of meditation retreats. During that time, I discovered that deep relaxation and pauses between thoughts help to inspire me. Although I no longer spend hours on my meditation cushion nowadays, I still use meditation and relaxation techniques to find inspiration. I always keep a sketchbook by my bedside, sometimes listen to monotonous music or white noise to shift my mood or spend an hour sitting blindfolded on a chair.
To me, what is most important is that the Earth doesn't need humans at all, but we need the Earth. Although I am a great lover of nature and animals, you will never hear me say that we need to save the Earth. The Earth existed for billions of years before humans and will likely be here for millions of years after us. Instead of portraying the landscape as something we need to control or take care of, I consider the (natural) environment something mysterious and awe-inspiring.
Does an installation continue to exist after you've filmed and photographed it or does only the medium remain?
At this point, only the photo or video remains. I often keep certain elements from my landscapes for a while, either out of sentiment or because I can reuse some parts. But with all the moves in recent years, most have ended up in the trash.
I define my work in series because each period of concentrated workflow produces unique colours and ambiences. I also sometimes work with a specific theme. At the same time, it is an ongoing process. As long as this approach remains inspiring, I will continue to develop my images in this way.
At the Royal Academy of Art (KABK), you graduated with installations and interventions in public spaces and before that, you painted a lot. Later, you switched to photography. Why?
During and after art school, I studied film and literature at Leiden University. I did this partly because I love film and literature, but also because my parents were not thrilled about an art education alone. So, this was a condition for attending the art academy. After I graduated, I spent some time making documentaries and commissioned videos. I bought high-quality cameras and learned a lot about lighting, techniques and editing. I continued making videos until I met my boyfriend. When he moved in with me in The Hague and we got a large anti-squat studio, I felt the urge to work there more and more.
To be honest, the last few years have been quite busy and full for me, with lots of fairs, exhibitions and several studio moves. This year, I hope to slow down a bit, so that I have more time to create in my studio, allowing me to take new steps in my work. I've personalised my studio completely in the last few months and expect to spend a lot of time there.
