Animals are never far away in the studio of Charlotte Dumas. As she paints, she listens to singing gibbons or the trumpeting of elephants in the background. Since a few years, Dumas has been working on the edge of Artis, the Amsterdam zoo. She has developed several series of animal portraits over the years, both digitally and on analogue. Her subjects include stray dogs like Tom Tom and Barone, who plays a visible role in the street life of Palermo. Through her intimate portraits, Dumas invites us to reflect on the space we take up in relation to others. What does it really mean to live together with other species? When do we take too much space and when do we make ourselves too small?
She inherited the love for watercolor from her father, who introduced her to this technique at an early age. Dumas describes it as an unforgiving medium: “There's no turning back; every brushstroke has to be precise." At the same time, it gives her the freedom to let go. She passes on this love to her own daughter. Last year, her solo exhibition "A terra" was shown at andriesse ~ eyck gallery. Currently, Dumas’s animal portraits are featured at Museum W in Weert. This exhibition "Beestachtig" is on view until September 14.
Where is your studio and how would you describe this place?
Since 2022, I’ve had a studio near the Amsterdam zoo Artis. It’s a wonderful place, and from here I can hear the elephants and gibbons every day. Sometimes the wild dogs and wolves too.
What does a typical work week look like? Do you go to your studio every day? Do you work with regular hours or do you also work in the evening?
If I don’t have meetings or teaching duties, I try to spend as much time as possible in my studio, where I work on several projects. At the moment, I’m building part of a film set to scale together with my youngest daughter. The film is due later this year. A lot of my time goes into writing, developing ongoing projects, and the correspondence that comes with that. When I’m editing, I prefer working at night because it’s already dark then.
Have you ever been to another artist’s studio? What’s the most beautiful studio you’ve ever seen?
I’ve been fortunate to spend time in the studios of many artists. It’s special, because each studio is where a personal world and rhythm takes shape where the work begins to grow. Most recently, I visited the studio of Christiane Pooley. I deeply admire her work and her presence as an artist.
You create portraits of animals, both digital and analogue. It’s beautiful how you move between photography and watercolor. What sparked your curiosity for working with watercolor?
I’ve made many portraits of animals, but I now work across various media and also explore other themes. In the film I’m currently making, my father and my youngest daughter are the protagonists. Still, animals are never far away, they play a significant role in this film as well. I learned early on to enjoy painting and drawing, and to trust in those practices as allies. That was certainly true for my father, who passed on his love for watercolor to me.
Watercolor is an unforgiving medium. There's no turning back; every brushstroke has to be precise. At the same time, it’s the perfect medium for sketching freely. When my daughter wants to draw, I often (figuratively) put a brush in her hand before she reaches for a marker. It creates a completely different kind of line. That’s also how my current sketches, especially of little dogs, come into being. I feel very at ease with this approach. It quickly reveals when I’m trying too hard, and it’s a great way to unwind.
When did your love of animals begin?
I believe almost all children feel love or empathy for animals. They feel connected with other living beings, without concerns for how different they might be. Staying close to animals perhaps helps me stay close to how children view the world, that’s what I hope, at least.
Your work is currently featured in the exhibition "Beestachtig" at Museum W in Weert, which includes photos of rescue and stray dogs. Was there a particular dog you remember because of its gaze or behavior?
Some of them I will always remember. For instance, Barone and Tom Tom, two dogs I photographed in Palermo. They were real characters in the street life there, noticed and appreciated by both people and fellow stray dogs who shared the same space. I also won’t forget Moxie, the first dog I photographed for the "Retriever" series. Not just Moxie himself, but the entire setting: a snowy landscape near water just outside Boston, and the stories his owner shared with me about working with his dog shortly after the 9/11 attacks.
Your work touches on the space we occupy in relation to others. How personal is this theme for you?
I think we’re all continuously confronted with how much space we take up relative to others. When is it too much, and when do we make ourselves too small? Animals – and often children too – are usually more true to their instincts. I’m often aware when someone comes too close, but I still find it hard to respond to that instinctively.
In one of the rooms, your film "Yorishiro" is on view. It features a girl dressed as a horse, exploring Japanese cities and nature on her own. Who is she? And do you ever fantasize about escaping the human world and joining a herd of animals in nature?
Making "Yorishiro" might be my way of doing just that. The girl in the film is my youngest daughter, Ivy. She spent a long time wearing a horse costume, and in doing so she truly became a little horse. It wasn’t pretend. The costume in "Yorishiro" was custom made for her by designer Yuko Kitta, who dyed the fabric with natural pigments. It transforms into something more than a costume, it emphasizes her connection to the horses she feels so at home with.
What would an ideal society look like? And what place would animals have in it?
That’s a vast question, but I believe it all begins with empathy and how we weave that into our societies. The ability to empathize with others is the foundation for living humanely with one another. It’s a fundamental part of life: how we relate to each other. And that includes all living beings. If we limit that connection to just human relationships, it ultimately becomes a poor and limited existence.
"Beestachtig" is on view until September. What are you working on now? What can we expect?
For some time now, I’ve been working on a film that centers on the relationship between my youngest daughter Ivy and her grandfather, my father, the painter Peter who passed away at the end of 2022 from Alzheimer’s. It’s a film about memory loss, about growth and decay, but above all about the transmission of creativity that cannot be pinned down. I’m working with both of my protagonists: with my father posthumously, through his paintings, slides and notes, and with Ivy as she continues to grow in the present. I hope to finish the film by the end of the year.