Something with a name
For a while, I thought I had to find an artists’ collective.
Or an artists’ association. A foundation. A partnership. A network. Something with a name, a board, a shared agenda and probably also a newsletter I would then have to read properly.
But the longer I professionalise my art practice, the more I notice that it is not just about finding a place to belong. It is mainly about this: where do I want to share my energy?
And with whom.
With my own rhythm.
After years of silence
Over the past year, I have been looking closely at my art practice again. Not only at my work, my series and my archive, but also at the outside of it. Where do I show my work? Who do I collaborate with? Which places fit what I make? And where do I feel that something can emerge without first having to push myself into a shape that does not fit?
For the past few years, I worked in silence for a long time. In my studio. With my own rhythm. My own inner world. That was necessary.
But at some point, external flow has to come back in as well. Not immediately with a lot of noise. Not by showing up everywhere with a glass of white wine in my hand at every opening. I honestly had no desire for that. And by that I mean: absolutely none.
But I do want to connect.
Only in a way that suits me.
A Good Beginning, But Too Broad
A few years ago, I became a member of a regional artists’ association. It was nice. Social too, and that matters. The initiator was extremely active and made a serious effort to create exhibition opportunities, meetings and visibility.
For me, it was a beautiful beginning to start moving outward again.
But eventually, the group felt too broad.
With some makers I felt a connection; with many others I did not. Not because that is wrong. But because I have started to feel more clearly that professionalism matters to me. Not as a cold business requirement, but as a foundation. As a shared language. As an attitude.
That may sound strict
I do think there is a difference between art and craft. And also between art and handicraft.
That may sound strict, but I do mean it a little that way.
Of course, an artist can make use of craft and handwork. In fact, I do that myself. Material, technique, paint, supports, frames, paper, everything passes through your hands. But technique alone does not make an art practice. And making things together in a pleasant atmosphere is not automatically the same as artistic connection.
I had to become honest about that.
More Guts, Please
Loes from Galerie Twintig, where my work is represented, pointed me towards more specific collectives and artist groups. Some of them regional, but with more guts.
And by guts I mean: more sharpness. More professionalism. More artists who carry their practice seriously. Not as a hobby corner, but as a field of work.
That appealed to me.
At the same time, I noticed that I did not want to step into something immediately. I was looking, listening, sensing. What fits? What is too much? What gives me energy? And where do I already feel, in advance, that I would have to adapt to a group I do not actually want to disappear into?
So my search for a collective or artists’ network is still ongoing.
But not at full gallop.
I am in no hurry.
The Foundation, the Partnership and the Slight Resistance
In a conversation with Yvonne de Jong from Root Gallery, I ended up in a free advisory meeting about setting up an artistic foundation or partnership.
Interesting. Certainly.
But there too, I felt: this is not my drive right now.
Not because it could not be a good idea. A foundation or partnership can be very useful when there is a clear shared artistic direction, a common ambition and enough capacity to truly carry it.
But at this moment, I do not want to build structure just for the sake of having structure.
My studio is ready to open the archive by appointment. I have collections ready to exhibit. I am working on new pieces. My art practice has mojo and flow.
So I have to be careful not to build an extra construction out of enthusiasm or restlessness, only for my energy to disappear into it.
During my exchange through the Dutch Embassy in Paris, via the Creative Vocational Schools network, I came into contact with l’Atelier Néerlandais at the Manufacture des Gobelins.
Paris Pulled Hard for a Moment
And yes. A big hatch immediately opened in my head.
My family has ties with Paris. I once did an internship there as an HKU student with Georgette Koning. And Paris, annoyingly enough, had immediately taken me back into its heart.
So I became enthusiastic.
I wrote a letter. Submitted an application. Had a big plan in my head. A bridge between my art practice, Dutch creative networks and the Paris art and design scene.
And then it went quiet. No rejection. No clear no.
More the kind of silence where you think: I believe they simply forgot about me.
Something had already gone wrong with the email and the application. I received a polite apology for that, and it would be set in motion. But after that, it stayed still.
And in all honesty: I notice that I do not want to chase it right now.
Not because it is not interesting. It is very interesting. Maybe even too interesting.
But right now, I do not feel like putting extra energy into becoming a member of something. Not now.
Maybe I Do Not Need to Search at All
That may be the real discovery. I thought I had to look for a collective or a network. But when I look honestly, there is already so much there.
There are the contacts through Galerie Twintig. The conversations through Root Gallery. The people I met during Yvonne Heemskerk’s masterclasses. The framers I work with, who look at my work seriously, not only as an object, but as an artwork that needs to be carried well. The contacts through Kunstschouw in Zeeland. The line to Paris, through the Manufacture des Gobelins, Le Campus Mode, Métiers d’Art & Design and the Creative Vocational Schools network, where, surprisingly, many professional artists are moving around.
And then there is my own studio.
That is also a place.
Not only a workspace, but a starting point. A place where people can come and look by appointment. Where the archive can open. Where work is not just stored, but can start moving again.
Maybe I do not need to search so hard for an artists’ collective after all. And maybe I need to look more closely at what is already rolling Calmly. Organically. Without having to park myself inside a club to prove that I am part of something.
Connection Without Hurry
I do want connection. Certainly.
I want to collaborate, exchange, exhibit. Especially curated exhibitions and joint presentations interest me. Not simply with everyone in one room, but with artists whose work lifts, rubs against or deepens each other.
That requires not only openness, but also selection.
And maybe that is the word I am arriving at more and more: selection.
Not out of arrogance. But out of care for my work, my time and my energy.
Professionalising an art practice does not mean saying yes to everything. It also means learning more sharply what to say no to. Or: not yet.
For now, I am building further with the possibilities that are already around me.
My studio. My archive. My series. My new work. The people who are already close enough to set something in motion.
And from that flow and calm, more will come. Maybe from Zeeland. Maybe from Paris. Maybe from a gallery, a framer, an old study line, an unexpected conversation or an artist I do not know yet.
But not forced. Not because I have to belong somewhere.
More because the work itself is starting to point more clearly towards where it wants to go.