| Being It |
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On the second of November, precisely 32 years and 11 months after I launched
this art gallery, I spotted the following paragraph for you in a review by
Eric Bos of "Nieuwsblad van het Noorden" (the Northern Gazette, a daily
newspaper that is widely read in the north-eastern part of the country).
Although the subject of his review was the Ben Snijders exhibitions, first
in Anloo and subsequently in Zeist, he was generous enough to mention yours
truly in passing: "This (Galerie Lieve Hemel, KN) is a place where they
can't get enough of fairy-lights, confetti and the type of decadence in form
and colour which in a way pours scorn on the power and expression of
painting simplicity, so that much of Lieve Hemel's art is no more than
ornamental decoration of a super-realist quality. Or one could just call it
fake."
I honestly don't know whether to feel thrilled or dismayed. A bogeyman always comes in handy when educating the hoi polloi. Could that be me, at the tentative beginning of the 21st century? Make no mistake: I may just have turned 60 and have been at the helm of my own art gallery for the past 33 years, none of that makes me feel too old to take up such an admirable and gratifying challenge. Going over the chronicles of the Dutch world of art that are currently available, one could almost be excused for thinking that it was considered abnormal during the 1970s and 1980s to condemn painstaking painting, with countless artists convicting themselves - most humanly - to abstract works for the sake of a generous benefit allowance, as the majority of BKR* committees were usually highly disapproving of all things finicky. As for me, I'm confident that it'll all work out in the end. I'm quite happy with the thought that the longer this remains a well-kept secret, the deadlier the blow when the moment finally arrives. Forgive me my thirst for sensation. But now there is this chap called Eric Bos. Is he really suggesting that we go over the whole thing again? That's a worrying thought. That wonderful sentence of his, the one that concludes with the word "fake". Perhaps I should secure a certificate of authenticity for myself. Would it help if I admitted to being no stranger to a tingling spine? To children liking me and dogs prostrating themselves on my feet? I don't smoke, or should I be a smoker, and I am at best a moderate drinker. Or is it my weaknesses, bad feet, practically bald, lazy and slow? The fact that I don't mind swatting flies but can't get myself to swallow live oysters even though I don't mind a rare steak every once in a while? How much am I expected to give away? What on earth should I do to count for something in Eric Bos's world? And another thing: I have no idea whether I've already contributed anything innovative to society, even though I'm called Nieuwendijk (literally, New Dike). Could it be my fate that these new dikes are being put up so as to resist the continuous waves of innovation, or would they be aimed at ensuring that the bastion of creativity and sincerity remains unsullied by all that blasted bogus decadence? Or, blinding flash of insight, could it be that deep down, Eric Bos would have preferred my name to be Echtendijk (Fake Dike)? * BKR = Beeldende-Kunstenaarsregeling or Visual Arts Scheme, a one-time government-sponsored subsidy scheme (long extinct) under which visual artists received income benefits in exchange for works of art (most of which disappeared into the vaults of museums, never to be clapped eyes on again). |