27 may 2025, Wouter van den Eijkel
The studio of... Margriet Smulders
This year, Margriet Smulders is celebrating her 40th anniversary as an artist. She broke through in the mid-1980s with portraits of women, but around the turn of the century, began photographing floral still lifes, which she continues to do to this day. “I’m far from finished.”
That’s understandable, as her work has gained considerable international attention in recent years.
“I was ahead of my time with my self-portraits, family portraits and flowers. What I did wasn’t really allowed: showing beauty. But I did it anyway. This shameless pursuit of beauty, Rococo, and femininity is now being celebrated—especially abroad, where I am considered exotic.”
Last month, Smulders’s recent work was shown at Photo London, where it was embraced by young female curators in particular.
“They recognised the feminine strength, symbolism, playful and subversive nature of my work, and welcomed it as a way to withstand the test of today’s difficult times.”A concise overview of Smulders’s work is now on display at Contour Gallery.
Margriet Smulders: 40 Years an Artist opens on 1 June and runs until 16 July at Contour Gallery in Rotterdam.
Where is your studio and how would you describe it?
I have a wonderful studio in Nijmegen in a historic school building and former girls’ boarding school from 1913, dedicated to Saint Jeanne de Lestonnac. She was a widow with seven children who founded the first girls’ schools in Bordeaux around the year 1600. The place is filled with a sense of history, care and feminine strength. We’ve lived here as a family: my partner Frank Bezemer, also an artist and our daughter Lola (born in 1988 and a visual artist) and son Boris (born in 1992 and a composer). We transformed the garden into an organic flower garden, a wild place where nature runs free. Though after a month in Ireland, it has become a bit too wild, so it’s time to get to work!
Studio Margriet Smulders
For some artists, their studio is a sacred space for solitude, while others consider it a practical space. What about you?
When I walk up the historic stairwell, I look up at the ceiling I created last year as an ode to Johanna, with a half-naked girl flying through the (glass ;-)) ceiling with listeria. You can call on Jeanne de Lestonnac as a saint if you’re a widow, not admitted into a convent or have been abused. In other words, she was a pretty feminist nun for her time. Upstairs, in the hallway, are two large installations from 1988, from when I did family portraits: a pink cabinet and a light blue cotton candy stand full of underslips.
My studio feels like a sacred, light-filled space. When I enter, I see the church tower. I’ve worked there for 35 years. When I open the windows from one of the seven dormers, I can hear the birds and see tall trees with a cemetery beyond. It takes up half an attic floor with seven dormers, plus two smaller rooms with my photo archive and storage, a cabinet with my books and cards—ten dormers in total. There’s also a large cloud swing for swinging away the stress I felt in 2010. We had been to the Himalayas and I wanted to experience that bliss again. Let it flow, let it flow.
Margriet Smulders, Nartificialia, 2022, Contour Gallery
You take photographs of compositions/still lifes, often with flowers. What does your studio space require? What do you absolutely need?
Long tables on wheels with a mirror as a tabletop. Flashes. Running water. I can also work outdoors. It’s really an incredibly exciting process that involves creative thinking and sensory pleasure.
Congratulations on your 40-year anniversary! That’s quite a milestone. Looking back, what has been the greatest change or development in your work?
At first, I mostly made self-portraits and installations, as well as series of gardens, carnivals and nature, in addition to commissioned portraits. From 1999, I began building and photographing my wild, large floral still lifes.
Margriet Smulders, Maternité I
I read that your own personal history made you interested in what happens behind closed doors in families. This was also the theme of your breakthrough work. I imagine it was hard as a young photographer to capture such an intangible theme as tension. How did you go about this?
It happened naturally. I first made self-portraits as a young woman and once I became pregnant and saw all those dreamy pictures of pregnant women looking through lace curtains or with their hands on their bellies over empty cribs, I couldn’t relate. It made me rebellious. I wanted to show how powerful I felt—as a creator of new life, as a co-organiser of a new family and that there was work to be done.
Margriet Smulders, Dragonfly, 2006, Contour Gallery
What made you interested in flower compositions?
As a child, I often drew flowers and curly patterns with flowers in the margins of my school notebooks. At the academy, I painted a huge yellow swinging lily against a dark background, while also painting window prostitutes. I biked passed their strong legs crossed behind pink glass every day. I like to view women as flowers. My own first name is a flower name.
Only in my fourth year did I study photography at the academy. By then I had already graduated as a clinical psychologist and wanted to reflect my inner world. A relationship with a fellow psychology student had come to an end and at the same time, both my younger sister and my father had become severely psychotic. I wanted to create a good family. Preferably with seven children. I wanted to grow into a powerful flower. I know lots of songs about flowers and girls. Fortunately, daisies (margriet in Dutch) always return. Almost like weeds. Ha!
A retrospective of your work is being shown at Contour Gallery. What was it like to create the exhibition and what can we expect?
The exhibition shows the development from my early self-portraits to the recent work that I created in Ireland. It’s a journey through 40 years of artistry. Every work reflects the time I lived in—a snapshot as it were. Of course, we can’t show a complete retrospective in a gallery, as that would require an entire museum. I’m curious how it will be received.
Margriet Smulders, Healing Herbs, 2020, Contour Gallery
Your work was on view at Photo London last week. Do you receive different reactions abroad? Does it vary by the country?
Abroad, people are very enthusiastic. Everyone is fascinated by the life visible in my work. In London, my work has been embraced, especially by young female curators. They recognise the feminine strength, symbolism, playful and subversive nature. They welcome my work as a revolution to cope with difficult times. Writer Susan Bright called my floral arrangements “unashamed celebrations of femininity” and “visual balm in dark times.” That I fully immerse myself in femininity and deepen the theme. They find my work explosive. I also love how she compared my work to Fragonard’s The Swing. I immediately thought of my own cloud swing in my studio.
Fragonard / Margriet Smulders
It was amazing to not only see publications in The Guardian, Vogue and LensCulture, but especially to have direct contact with surprised visitors. The audience there is more diverse and young women are leading the way. One of them, ‘petite dolle’, wore a rococo dress, had light blue hair and crab-claw gloves—a living ode to everything my work celebrates. In Austria and Munich, the seductive power of my work is also celebrated. People there become intoxicated by it. My solo exhibition in Schloss Kalsdorf / Ilz was titled: Im Banne der Schönheit.
I was a pioneer with my self-portraits, family portraits and flowers. What I did wasn’t really allowed: showing beauty. But I did it anyway. This shameless pursuit of beauty, Rococo, and femininity is now being celebrated—especially abroad, where I’m considered exotic. You should allow yourself to want beauty around you. Why not choose something beautiful, over and over again? Some people are afraid to choose a beautiful partner out of fear of losing them. You need courage to make that choice. The idea of the ‘dumb blonde’ runs deep in the Netherlands: someone who is beautiful and blonde must be dumb. I oppose that. Just admit that it’s wonderful to be surrounded by beauty. I create a space that encourages viewers to surrender to beauty. Let it flow.
What advice would you give a recent graduate from art school? What ‘mistakes’ would you warn them against making?
Believe in yourself. Don’t copy anyone. Listen to your gut. Travel and go to artist residencies and discover your own strengths. And if someone wants to buy your work, remember: you want an equal exchange. That means the client isn’t giving you charity money, but that you get paid enough to go out to dinner together—and that you can generously treat. You offer a wealth of freedom and your soul and essence that are expressed in your work are worth gold.
Margriet Smulders, In the Palm of your Mind, 2024, Contour Gallery
Most people retire after 40 years of work—except for artists. Are there any projects you’d still like to pursue in the years ahead?
1. Wild gardens
First of all, I want to keep being surprised by the miracles that nature and our organic fruit and flower garden show me, especially close to home. So many plants seem to be shouting, “Here I am! I want to be in one of your group portraits.”
2. Ceilings
In 2016, I created three massive ceiling paintings in the Emsgalerie in Rheine an der Ems, dedicated to the River Ems. I see life as a flowing river. Panta rei. The ceiling I made for Johanna in our stairwell fits perfectly in a plastered frame. I want to create more magical ceilings to fly through. You look up and are transported. Give us a call!
3. Cibachrome prints
I still have prints in my studio that are waiting to be seen and cherished. I want to write and paint on them… It’s exciting because these are my backup prints. They want out of the boxes. They want attention.
4. Book
I’m working on a new book about my life and work. Right now, there’s too much text.
And I want to travel more without going too far. We went to Ireland and London by boat. Going under the Channel feels a bit scary. I’ve taken lots of nature pictures all my life, especially in Ireland. There are gems among them. I have a good photographic eye for what Mother Nature—perhaps with a bit of help—has staged in front of the lens. But first the beautiful new exhibition at Contour.
