a multi-disciplinary dialog
Still life by Hanneke van Oosterhout, detail
Last Friday I helped Hanneke and Maurice set up the exhibition at Galerie de Provenier. While doing this, I started to ask myself, “What does it take to be an art dealer?”
Artist and writer Jannie Regnerus has collected three paintings by my partner, Hanneke van Oosterhout. I went to Jannie’s house today to make a photograph of one of the paintings and to see if there was any chance that she would consider reselling them.
KARL ZIPSER: What do you think about these paintings you bought?
JANNIE REGNERUS: I like the intimacy of the painted objects. They have been cut off from their former lives as useful or functional things — especially the ginger pot. The ginger pot whispers its own history and has its own universe. The pears have a different feeling, they are sensual, almost like human bodies. And the strawberries have some humor because the proportions are confusing, the giant berries in the tiny cup.
KARL ZIPSER: Don’t you find these pictures a bit too dark?
JANNIE REGNERUS: I like the way the objects sink within this black background. They are very silent, but also very strong. I like these better than the paintings with the light background. Hanneke is very good in this dark and intimate night atmosphere. l like the tempered light, the sun has set, this is the best time for objects, they become more mysterious than they are in the broad daylight.
KARL ZIPSER: Would you sell these paintings? Perhaps you could buy something different, like a new stereo system?
JANNIE REGNERUS: Of course not. I bought them because I love them. I saw them and I wanted to have them close by. I didn’t buy them as an investment. When people come to my house they also want them. Hanneke made one picture for friends of mine who saw her work here. Every time I visit Hanneke’s studio I see new things, so it is very difficult for me to go there.
KARL ZIPSER: But you don’t like everything she makes.
JANNIE REGNERUS: Sometimes she works too long on a painting and I think that I liked it better at an earlier state. That is normal, it happens to me, I think it happens to every artist sometimes.
KARL ZIPSER: I agree, working too far is often a danger.
JANNIE REGNERUS: So Karl, what will be the prices of Hanneke’s paintings in the exhibition that begins this Friday?
KARL ZIPSER: That is an interesting question.
. . .
Hanneke’s show opens 15 December in Haarlem at gallery De Provenier (which does not have its own website). What will be the prices? Which pictures will she select for the exhibition? Will she, should she, sell on-line as well? All of these questions are unresolved. Hanneke will discuss the progress of the show on her own site.
Jennifer Hoes at her self-wedding in Haarlem, The Netherlands, 2003.
KARL ZIPSER: Jennifer, why did you marry yourself?
JENNIFER HOES: I married myself at the moment I was prepared to embrace my own life and agree on the responsibilities that come with that. I married myself at the age my father died, I decided not to stay in the shade of his death at thirty.
Jennifer Hoes in her studio in Haarlem speaking, about porcelain objects cast from her body, with her mother.
KARL ZIPSER: Is it not a bit self-centered to marry yourself?
JENNIFER HOES: I believe if a person is loyal to him- or herself, he or she he has more to offer to others — to be active, straight and involved in relationships. Therefor, by no means, is marrying yourself a self-centered act. In my wedding I needed my family and friends there as my witnesses and it was also a celebration of my relationships and intentions with them.
Installation at a big plant and flower fair in Holland: Jennifer Hoes is “Eva” in a back-projected movie within the installation; her porcelain objects represent the animals in paradise.
KARL ZIPSER: Marriage is of course more than a ceremony. There is also a wedding night . . .
JENNIFER HOES: The wedding night I spent alone and slept like a baby! I feel my wedding-night was the most logical one after a hectic day!
KARL ZIPSER: There is also a honey moon . . .
JENNIFER HOES: Unfortunately I had no money for a honeymoon, that would have been nice and welcome after the hard work.
Jennifer Hoes’ porcelain vases based on cast of her thighs [photograph: Eric van Straaten]
KARL ZIPSER: Also there is the rest of your life “together.” How does self-marriage affect your life on a day to day basis? Do you find yourself a good life-partner so far?
JENNIFER HOES: My wedding ring says “I will return to my heart every time.” I read this every day. I think the values to an individual life are pretty much the same as in a marriage, it is about how you’ll behave, about taking responsibility, about being a loving person. The promises you make in the ceremony concern good intentions. The intention to do your best, be involved, be sincere, etc. and the ceremony is something you do for the moment later when you’re making a mistake in the relationship, to remind you of your promises and to make up for your mistake. To always try your best. Of course, I’m not always happy with myself and the things I do.
KARL ZIPSER: Does your self-marriage preclude you from a traditional marriage with another man or woman?
JENNIFER HOES: I can still marry a partner. But I do feel I had my moment in white, so I’m not eager to take the trip to the city-hall again.
A nipple montage by Jennifer Hoes
KARL ZIPSER: Would it be fair to say that your wedding was an “art event”?
JENNIFER HOES: I don’t claim my work (or wedding) is art. I do, and make, what I feel I have to do or to make. The “art” label is given by others. The media, because of the wedding, tried to own me, make me say or do things. I had to verbally fight with reporters and kept most of them out of my wedding ceremony. I did not invite them. The truth is I did not reject them altogether when they did come. I enjoyed the attention, but to an extent.
Jennifer Hoes beside a nipple montage
KARL ZIPSER: Jennifer, you indeed got a lot of media attention because of your self-marriage. You present your “wedding” as an important personal experience. Wasn’t it just a publicity stunt to promote your art?
JENNIFER HOES: Today people still ask me when the next big “stunt” will be. I am hurt when people degrade my very being to a stunt. The wedding cost me a lot of time, effort and money. Also, very important, I did not make any money out of it, would also not justify it being a stunt for the sole purpose of entertaining others.
Karl, I don’t make a distinction between my life and work. Therefore my wedding can be considered “work.” It also explains why I can so easily use my own body as a tool. I believe life is a matter of design — for the biggest part we are the designers of our own lives. I believe we have more influence on our own lives then we sometimes realize. It is about taking responsibility and accountability. I use this concept in my work. At the physical level the work is based, sometimes literally, on the from of my own body. But the work is also is a projection of my heart and mind. The wedding, as something of heart and mind, is just as relevant to my work as a cast of my nipples.
Jennifer Hoes in her “Summer dress made of silk and silver.”
KARL ZIPSER: Will you take questions from readers here on Art & Perception?
JENNIFER HOES: Yes.
Walter Bartman was my art teacher in high school in 1984-86 in Bethesda, Maryland. Students of “Mr. Bartman” were ten times more likely to become Presidential Scholars in Visual Arts than students in other art classes in the United States. Although he retired from high school teaching in 2001, Walter Bartman continues to teach landscape painting in Maryland and in workshops across the U.S. and in Europe.
Artwork in this post is plein air painting by Walter Bartman [click images to enlarge]. This interview was edited for publication together with Leslie Holt
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Haarlem is a major art center — in historical terms. When the genres of landscape and still life were revolutionary and new (in the 17th century), Haarlem artists were the key players. The Haarlem portrait painter Frans Hals is one of the most influential artists in history. Much of what is best about Manet‘s work he borrowed directly from Frans Hals. Van Gogh was hugely influenced by Frans Hals as well.
Haarlem also has one of the greatest Michelangelo drawing collections in the world. But this is a dead collection, in a sense: in a recent major exhibition in Haarlem, artists were not permitted to study Michelangelo’s work in the only way that makes sense, drawing within the exhibition itself, looking directly at the master’s work. Although there was a huge volume of visitors to the show, there was almost no serious critical analysis of the art or the exhibition (here are exceptions: 1, 2).
Thus, Haarlem is a cultural graveyard. Haarlem’s living inhabitants treat the past with silent, uncritical reverence. The tombstones of the old masters (native and foreign), cast a long shadow over contemporary artwork and creativity.
Artists in Haarlem today can be divided into two broad categories:
In the first category are some talented painters achieving commercial success with their neo-17th century still life paintings. But in this endeavor, they are little more than expert craftsmen. [Hanneke van Oosterhout is flirting with the idea becoming one of these, but I think she will pull out before it is too late].
In the second category are artists who are in denial about their place of residence. These artists would probably be better off if they moved to the real international art centers of today — New York, London, Berlin. How can one be a great international artist living in Haarlem, of all places?
Before we all pack up and move to New York, I’d like to point out that the action in the great living art centers of today is not all that impressive. I’ve spent a lot of time in New York and Berlin, with an eye to moving there for the sake of my art career. I was singularly unimpressed by what I saw in the living art culture. I might move to New York for its great museums, but not for its contemporary galleries.
More interesting to me than moving is to look at this cultural graveyard I live in, and see what are the weeds growing besides the tombstones. What is the new life here? Might it grow into something for the city to be proud of?
Where do you live and work? Could your city or town become an important art center? Or would you rather move to New York?
. . .
In a future post, I will profile what I consider to be the most exciting contemporary Haarlem artwork.
