30 april 2025, Martine Bontjes
The studio of… Tessa Posthuma de Boer
Tessa Posthuma de Boer’s studio is filled with pots and vases she finds at flea markets and thrift shops. These objects serve as props in her photographic still lifes. For thirty years, she captured people with her lens. Nowadays blossoms take center stage in her work. What speaks through her images is not the object, but her gaze as a photographer: “I don’t believe a portrait photographer shows the essence of the model, but you can show the essence of yourself.” After a walk through the Waterland meadows, she settles in her studio behind her screen to rearrange her vases, flowers and photographs.
This week, De Boer’s work will be on view at Koch and Bos at the KunstRAI (booth 8). For the first time she presents her photographs in large format on wooden panels. On Friday evening, 2 May at 17:30, De Boer will hold a Q&A about her artist practice. KunstRAI celebrates its 40th anniversary this year. The jubilee edition takes place from Wednesday 30 April to Sunday 4 May 2025 in the Parkhal at RAI Amsterdam.
Where is your studio located and how did you end up there?
About twelve years ago, I was lucky enough to get a space in a multi-business building in Broek in Waterland, the village where I live. I was lucky, since there are no other studio spaces in the area. My studio is just a few minutes' walk from home. It’s far from romantic: a brick block with drop ceilings, but I’m still very happy to have a workplace nearby.
Do you go to your studio every day? What does a typical day look like?
Almost every morning (unless I have an appointment elsewhere), I walk to my studio with my dog Warre. Often I head home around midday for lunch, and in the afternoon, Warre and I walk through the Waterland meadows just behind the studio. I spend long hours behind my screen, so those walks are essential.
Do you have any routines or rituals before starting your work?
It takes me a while to wake up at the start of the day. I always begin with my journal, then a long walk with the dog. That’s usually when ideas begin to form. Later I might do some yoga or other exercises, around 10 I head to the studio.
How important is silence or music during your work process?
It’s not particularly quiet in the building where my studio is located, since there are several businesses and I can hear people talking in the hallway. It’s not ideal, but I’ve gotten used to it. When I’m shooting, music really helps, preferably calm, instrumental pieces. For example: Canto Ostinato by Simeon ten Holt, Yann Tiersen, Ludovico Einaudi. All perfect working music.
I noticed a cabinet full of vases and pots in your studio. How do you decide if an object works for you?
I often visit flea markets and thrift shops in search of vases. A beautiful vase doesn’t necessarily work, it shouldn’t draw more attention than the flowers. Shape and color need to be complementary. It’s all trial and error. I often return a big bag of unphotogenic vases to the thrift store.
You used to work as a portrait photographer. What drew you to still life, and how does that approach differ?
After more than thirty years of commissioned portrait work (mostly for newspapers and magazines), I am very happy to now focus on my own autonomous projects. The approach to a still life is almost the same. I make portraits of flowers, and sometimes they’re just as stubborn as people. I even talk to the flowers while I shoot. 'Can’t you stand up straight for just a moment?' I’ll say to a hanging tulip.
In your portraits you capture the essence of a person. How do you capture that in your still lifes? How do you change your gaze?
I think it’s about looking and about wonder. What I reveal in a portrait, whether of a person or a flower, says more about me than about the subject. I don’t believe a portrait photographer shows the essence of the model, but you can show the essence of yourself.
Your new work ‘For Vincent’ clearly refers to Van Gogh’s almond blossom. What do you want to convey with this image?
I actually never felt much for Van Gogh’s work, until I started making these still lifes. Then I began to see it differently. I find it so beautiful now. It’s about the essence of form and color, but also about transience and vulnerability, about pain and joy at once. Van Gogh’s almond blossom is iconic, everyone can picture it. I simply want to show how stunning it is. My image is an ode to Van Gogh, with a bit of myself.
How do you know when a work is finished?
I know it when I take the photo. When everything in the image comes together, it’s euphoric. However, I often keep tweaking, especially in post-processing. It’s never truly finished.
What can we expect from your presentation with Koch and Bos at KunstRAI this weekend? How will the works be shown?
Last year, I experimented with mounting my photos on small wooden panels. It worked very well. It’s a labor-intensive process: I print the photos on Japanese washi paper, glue them onto wooden panels that I’ve prepared in advance, and finish them with several coats of matte varnish. At Koch and Bos’s request, I’ve now made large panels for the first time, 70 by 90 cm. That was quite a challenge. These will be shown for the first time at KunstRAI: a premiere!
How do you see your autonomous work evolving in the coming years? Are there subjects or themes you’d like to explore further?
When it comes to still lifes, it’s a meandering process. I feel like I have seen it all at the flower shop, so now I dream of growing my own flowers. I would love to move to a new house soon, with a large studio space and a big garden for my flowers. I will continue working on other series too: the dreamlike, surreal images I create from time to time. I would really like to carve out space for more of that again.
