There is a place that almost no one can simply visit.
— Voorhout
No public path. No sign by the road. Not somewhere you might happen to pass and think: let’s see what is going on here. You have to know it exists. And you have to be invited.
That is where my outdoor studio is.
The chickens were already living there
By now, the chickens belong to this place just as much as the trees, the water, the grass and everything that scratches around, grows, falls over or begins again.
They walk past while I work. They peck at the soil, interfere with everything and show absolutely no interest in a painting or artwork unless it is edible.
I like that. They immediately make the place less solemn. A great deal can happen in a studio, but taking yourself too seriously does not last long here.
The wind moves through something. A chicken starts an argument. A branch falls. Something stirs in the water. And I have to look again.
What I see when I look up
Today, I filmed the view from my outdoor studio.
Not only the part that looks beautiful on camera, but also the movement in between. The greenery that refuses to grow neatly. The light that keeps changing. Water, air, branches, grass and the small shifts you only begin to notice when you stay in the same place for a while.
It is not a backdrop to my work. Sometimes I work, and sometimes I mostly look. The difference is smaller than it sounds. And that is new for me. AI-generated texts often talk endlessly about “slowing down”, but here it simply happens by itself.
A Hidden Place to Work
I call it a secret place because, quite literally, it is. This garden and outdoor studio are not freely accessible. Only we come here, along with the people we deliberately invite.
That does not make the place exclusive for the sake of being exclusive. It gives the place peace. And it gives us peace too.
Not everything has to remain permanently open. Not every space needs to be shared, explained or made available straight away. Perhaps that is exactly why I can work so well here.
There is no stream of visitors. No curious onlookers. No one unexpectedly walking in. No pressure to present anything.
The work does not have to prove itself yet. It feels completely different from the indoor studio. The work is allowed to emerge. A brilliant place, in other words.
By invitation
Over the coming period, I will share more images of this place and of the work that begins here.
Not to make it seem more mysterious than it is, but because this environment is inseparable from my artistic practice. Some places do not need to be made larger than they are. You only have to look closely enough.
My studio and exhibition space can be visited at selected times, by appointment or personal invitation.
