The exhibition LIVING CITIES was on display at Treptow Ateliers in Berlin from May 17th till 19th. The exhibition presented artworks made by artists from a variety of countries who stay or stayed at Treptow Ateliers in Berlin and Artists' Retreat no-mu in the outskirts of Kyoto (Kameoka, Japan).  Photo's by Christoph Schieder.

My painting 'Vastness' from the series 'Stories from Kameoka' was on show, together with the other paintings from the series in the format of small postcard prints. For all paintings and more information about this art project, click here. 

For more photo's from the exhibition, click here. For more information click here.

Happy to share the news that my painting 'Vastness' from the series 'Stories from Kameoka' will be on show in Berlin! Scroll down to see the painting. To view all paintings in this series, click here.

The exhibition LIVING CITIES at TREPTOW ATELIERS also shows other artworks by participants of artist in residence at Artists' Retreat No-Mu in Kameoka. More information about the exhibition below.

It's been nearly two months since I've returned from my artist in residence in Kameoka, Japan. Returning to my daily life in Amsterdam, time has passed by quickly. However, what I've experienced, seen and felt in Kameoka is not forgotten. I've been living in a different pace, taking more time and being more attentive. I started a photoproject that is an implementation ,result of and -exercise in- slowing down and looking closely. It is not about technique but about observation, which is why my choice of material is very simple: a single-use camera.

Back to 'Stories from Kameoka'. Three landscapes have been added to the series. Beside a visual component, each landscape is connected to a story. Together with the four portraits I painted in Kameoka during the residency, these seven paintings make up the visual component of 'Stories from Kameoka'. You can see all paintings by clicking here.

It has been an interesting journey, where I've also experimented and discovered new techniques and materials. The landscapes are done in gouache, a material I discovered just last year.  The size of these paintings roughly corresponds to the a3 format, which is also a larger surface than I usually work on. With the paintings finished, I am now continuing with the text.

In the meanwhile I've also been looking for ways to show the project. It is now possible to purchase postcards at the 'Shop' button on this website. A booklet is to appear as well.

Please stay tuned and thank you for viewing and supporting  'Stories from Kameoka'!

Happy to share the news that Tanaka Eikoh-san has asked me to speak on his behalf at the Micro Residence Meeting 2019 in Kyoto.

I will give a short presentation on the artist in residence project: Micro Happening at Artists' Retreat no-mu in Kameoka. The presentation will consist out of two parts: a general outline of the program and my own personal experiences as a participant.
Please feel welcome to join and learn about micro residence programs all across Japan, registration closes 7 February.

More information here.

Time is a peculiar thing. Its passing and one’s perception of time shifts constantly. When spending time in Kameoka, there is for me personally a sense of time passing immensely quick but very slow at the same time.

Time passes quick because there are so many connections, impressions and experiences. There is certainly a sensation of it passing too quick, since I would like to stay longer. To gain more, but also to ‘produce’ more. It is a strange feeling to realize there are ‘only’ a few days left here. 'Where did time go?', I sometimes wonder.

On the other hand, time is passing slowly. And this is mainly because of a shift in attitude towards time.

My project here in Kameoka includes interviewing residents of Kameoka city to paint their portrait and write down their stories and share them with the world. Thinking people might be busy I kept saying before every interview how long it would take. ‘About 30 minutes, is that possible?’. Every interview ends up running longer, with also effort spend to get to know each other without a notepad or recorder. With coffee, cake, making a true connection going both ways.
 
The conscious choice, every day, to connect, to reflect, to be attentive and appreciative. Not only in a professional sense, but in a maybe more private sense as well.

I notice things that usually go by unnoticed for me. The dew on my window in the morning when I wake up and the sun shining through it. I take the time to save the moment, capture the image.

Thinking of what I have been learning so far, I think this might be one of the bigger points for me personally. Taking time, making time, has consequences for everything you do. I feel it in my paintings: stopping and reflecting, I suddenly see what does not work and needs to be changed. Focusing and taking time to paint for hours uninterrupted, I get in an artistic flow that I usually deny myself being ‘busy’ or unfocused.

It is not only this program that allows this change, but also Kameoka. Here there seems to be time. People make time. I’ve noticed, moving back from Leiden to Amsterdam, that in bigger cities time tends to pass by differently. Everyone is hurrying, rushing, the standard reply to ‘how are you’ would often be, ‘good, busy’.

Kameoka for me is also a reminder about time, priorities and being ‘busy’. Because what does busy mean? Doing much, too much for the hours in one day? Or does it also have to do with an attitude and a way of living?

Looking back I’ve seen there has been so much and then there’s been emptiness. I encounter this as a point during all my interviews. Anna Namikawa’s favorite place in Kameoka is an empty field. ‘There is nothing, there is no one’. But maybe, these moments and places of silence, of ‘nothingness’ actually contain very essential things.

Sitting alone in my room painting is my pause in a stream of impressions, emotions and experiences. But it is also what enlarges, activates, encompasses and connects it all. For a few days I do not go outside and live quite 'secluded'. In the supermarket I quickly buy my groceries, returning afterwards to my place of silence. My place of nothingness? After this period and stepping back outside, showing my face again at some social gatherings I am warmly greeted by partipants: 'Where were you? I didn't see you for a few days!'

I think of joining two teaceremonies, the empty fields, the abandoned houses. The mountains laying in the thick but also transparent thin mistclouds. But also of the lively talk during our ‘Osanpou tour’ through Kameoka. The strange and bizarre connections: how likely that you find a common friend and suddenly someone who starts speaking your language? I think of the cooking parties, enjoying food and sake together. Of meeting my friend, the only friend I have an extensive digital letter writing tradition with since I left Kyoto, and spending some hours appreciating moss together. I think of all the encounters, memories, experiences.

How wonderful to be here. What a great opportunity. During my interview with Anna Namikawa her energy and positive outlook is a lovely experience. One of the questions I ask during my interviews is ‘What is something you are proud of?’. It is quite a difficult question in many ways I believe, but also one that allows for a more deep connection and understanding.

During this question and many topics that come up, Anna says with a face beaming with joy: ‘I think I am really a lucky girl. To be able to do what I want to do.’ I feel the same being here, in Japan, painting, connecting and reflecting.

Even though I can count the days that have passed since my arrival in Kameoka on the fingers of my hands, the impressions and adventures so far are numerous. Some big, others smaller.

My solo adventure of biking alongst the riverside could be seen as a small adventure, but its impact to me quite significant. In one day this trip allowed me to get a feeling of Kameoka and its surroundings and several ideas for my project. Last but not least I enjoyed it immensely.

The weather was particularly nice that day. When I stepped on my bike there were almost no clouds grazing the sky above Kameoka. A blue and sunny sky seemed to encourage me to bike a lot, and so I did. A bizarre change occurred when I went from the quiet riverside to the citycenter of Kameoka. From quiet paths where I almost encountered no one and only had birds, grasses and mountains all around me, the landscape gradually shifted. Abandoned buildings on the side of the road, overgrown with ivy and in bad general condition, made way for quiet streets with cosy houses. My legs started to hurt and my thirsty throat urged me to take a much needed rest. The transformation was complete when I decided to have a warm lunch in Kameoka's center at Family Mart.

While I sit down in the small supermarket, the white squeaky clean floors welcome new customers every minute. Beeps of the till, little noises uttered by the copymachine right next to the resting area where I plumped myself down, hyperactive voices blaring from the radio. Light and noise are omnipresent but I feel detached. At this point I am still at the riverside. It's not long before I return to this hectic world and start connecting and consuming, looking at my wristwatch and worrying about things such as the notion of time.

During this bikingtour, I notice the abandoned buildings in varying stages of deterioration. A problem which is not unique to Kameoka, but one that many suburbs in Japan face. With an aging population and youth moving to the bigger cities, the amount of vacant houses in the suburbs grow. Buildings slowly get taken over by plants and other forces and elements of nature.

Why this is happening is a question with many possible answers. The same evening I enter a random eating place -exhausted and hungry I am not particularly picky-. Luck is on my side: it is a cosy teppanyaki place (grilling food on an iron plate) with friendly customers and staff. A casual young woman with big round earrings and puffy hair - transporting me back to the 80s- serves us at the till. We are accompanied by three roudy middle-aged men.

Shortly after entering we find ourselves exchanging short dialogues in both English and Japanese, that become more frequent as time passes. One of them seems to take a liking to us and starts to explain the dishes. He calls out the ingredients in both English and Japanese, while holding a phone in his hand to look up what he does not know. Smiles and laughter.

Showing a photo of one of the abandoned buildings, I ask them why suburbs in Japan are facing this problem. 'No money!'

What a contrast when we visit the Oomoto religious center in Kameoka the next day. This new religious movement is a branch from Shintoism and believes divinity is best transmitted through the arts. Thus, there is a lot of attention for noh, ikebana and the tea ceremony. By sheer luck we receive the privilege to participate in a tea ceremony. The community seems wealthy: beautiful natsume and mizusashi accompany the ceremony: objects I usually view as art objects to be sold at the art gallery I work at.

We are thankful to Nabika-san for providing us this unique experience. Meeting her by accident a few days earlier, here we are at this beautiful richt spiritual center, accompanied by her son in law who is so kind to provide translations and guidance.

After the ceremony ends, a circle of people form around her. They are all talking, sometimes slightly bowing to each other and she is just glowing. Seeing her walk in traditional Japanese clothing and footwear, over slopy paths with small white pebbles, I would have never guessed her age. After the ceremony with all the new protocol that we try to follow as best as we can - turn this way now, lay the fan upwards now bow - I am simply drained. She however seems to be filled with energy and I can't help but be deeply impressed. While her son in law gently helps her along the pebbles, we make our way home.