Posted on Leave a comment

Christian Boltanski (1944-1921)

Schermafbeelding 2021-07-16 om 09.25.33

For me personally Boltanski stands for “remembering” and expressing this in gloomy art. The dark side is always present in his art and publications. Now Boltanski is dead and he leaves us with some of the greatest art from the last 50 years.

Christian Boltanski was born in 1944 in Paris and died in 2021 in Paris. In the 1960s he began to develop a “personal ethnology” marked, among others, by the influence of Claude Lévi-Strauss and Harald Szeemann. At the same time, drawing on museology, Boltanski exhibited inventories of items of anonymous owners. It is often the case in Boltanski’s work that objects (photos, pieces of clothing, bells, flowers…) give voice to absent subjects and are an invitation to the viewer to meditate and contemplate.

Since his first exhibition at LeRanelagh cinema in 1968 Boltanski’s work has been shown in numerous countries. Recent solo shows have been at Centre Pompidou, Paris, France (2019); Espace Louis Vuitton Tokyo, Japan (2019); The National Museum of Art, Osaka, Japan and the National Art Gallery, Tokyo, Japan (2019); The Israel Museum, Jerusalem (2018); The Power Station of Art, Shanghai, China (2018); the Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes, Buenos Aires, Argentina (2017); Museo d’Arte Moderna di Bologna, Italy (2017); The Museum of Contemporary Art of Monterrey, Mexico (2016); Instituto Valenciano Arte Moderno (IVAM), Spain (2016); Mac’s Grand Hornu, Belgium (2015); and Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes, Santiago, Chile (2014).

Boltanski was recognized with several awards over his lifetime, including the Praemium Imperiale Award (2006) and the Kaiser Ring Award (2001). He participated in Documenta (1977 and 1972) and numerous Venice Biennales (2011, 1995, 1993, 1980, and 1975).  has a large selection of Boltanski titles available

Posted on Leave a comment

Servie Janssen (1949-2018)

Schermafbeelding 2021-02-18 om 15.26.00

Servie Janssen (1949-2018) Dutch artist studied in the Kraków Academy of Fine Arts in 1971. His connection to Poland ran through his whole career as a passionate artist and performer. On the 14th of July 2018 in a conversation between Servie Janssen and Nell Donkers, Janssen mentioned the influence and his close relation to the artistic movement constructivism, and especially to Kazimir Malevich. In the same conversation Servie Janssen emphasized that he finds the publication “Pier+Ocean: Construction in the art of the seventies” (Arts council of Great Britain, 1980) the most important.
After “I Am” and “Works and Words” Janssen also took part in the international exhibition Construction in Process (Konstrukcja w Procesie) in 1980 in Łódź, Poland. He wrote in an email: “What strikes me about Poland is that this line of constructivism that started with Kazimir Malevich and Henrik Stazewski – in no other former Eastern Bloc country you will find this in such a way – (Stazewski was a member of the honorary committee for Konstrukcja w Procesie) – and they saw in my 9 rectangles work a promising link to current events, all the more so since a whole generation of conservatives were still finding their way, in a kind of surrealism and absurdism in art (especially graphic artists).” The documentation of his 9 rectangles performance (the one he performed in Works and Words) was exhibited and he performed “This side is Red” during which he read titles of Friedrich Nietzsche’s works while lying on the floor next to a neon sign.
Janssen held a performance combined with an exhibition in De Appel in 1978. Art critic, Marga van Mechelen in her book “De Appel 1975-1983” writes that Janssen’s performance was influenced by his journey to Canada.
Later, as Louwrien Wijers writes in a witness report, Janssen’s artistic development was defined by his interest in shapes in space. In Works and Words Servie Janssen held a performance in the Kapel venue on the 26th of September in 1979. During the performance Janssen repeatedly built and deconstructed structures of wooden sticks, originally in the shapes of 9 rectangles. has a copy of the scarce Servie Janssen publication from 1978

servie janssen

Posted on Leave a comment

Mark Kadota (1951)

Schermafbeelding 2020-08-21 om 14.26.04

A video, performing, sculptor and painter, artist Mark Kadota splits his time between his homes in Hawaii and the Netherlands. “Living in two very different places allows a unique observation of each place with a new and fresh view.It also lets me get a different perspective of each place,” he says. Kadota’s art covers visual recording and performing arts in the broadest spectrum. He has been on exhibit in galleries throughout the world and his collections are to be seen in several museums in Europe and Hawaii.His video artworks have been shown at the Beijing and London Olympic exhibition halls and have been acquired by Stedelijk museum in ‘s-Hertogenbosch, Netherands. Appointed the honorary city artist for Honolulu USA he is presently finishing a commission for the renovation of the Honolulu city hall

In his Dutch landscape series Kadota updates the concept of documenting landscapes void of any human content in an effort to find spaces of refuge in an age of overpopulation. His main motivation is to create artwork of universal languages, searching for common truths that unite rather than separate. His artwork, at its best, mirrors society and our interior selves, raises questions, and presents communication and reflection. He makes his messages human, poetic, inclusive, humorous, accessible and comprehensible to everyone. As a conceptual artist, Kadota uses both traditional and non-traditional media to explore idea which he expands upon using video, painting, photography, installations, performance, movement, music, poetry, kinetic stage sets, sculpture, ceramics and film. Like many artists he tends to work in series. Kadota cites “I explore the concept through the series of work till I exhaust the idea. Usually I move to the next concept and at times return to former concepts with newfound ideas.”


Posted on Leave a comment

Stedelijk Museum “on line” visits

Blog readers know of the large collection i have for sale on the Stedelijk Museum, its artists and its exhibitions (, but it is hard to grow this collection . No book markets, no museum visits and the only thing i could do is to photograph and describe my stock and add this to my inventory. It has now grown over by 1100 entries and i am convinced it is one of the largest collections for sale on the Stedelijk Museum and itss history. But to bridge the time between closure and reopening its collections to visitors, they made available some interesting virtual visits to the museum and its collections. Guided by curators and director Rein Wolfs , you can now make a virtual visit. One of the best i think is the one Rein Wolfs hosts. It shows the direction into which the Stedelijk is developing for the next decade or so. Interesting…. yes…., but i do hope they still will keep their focus on their history and great collection, they build over the years.



Posted on Leave a comment

Ørnulf Ranheimsæter (1909-2007)

Schermafbeelding 2020-12-08 om 11.27.31

Ørnulf Ranheimsæter was a Norwegian illustrator, graphical artist and essayist.

He was born in Skien, and educated at the Norwegian National Academy of Craft and Art Industry, where he also later worked as instructor and eventually professor. He is known for his many book designs, and received the Bokkunstprisen award in 1967 and 1987. He was awarded the Fritt Ord Honorary Award in 1998.

gullberg f
Why this rather obscure , lesser know Norwegian artist?.

The best reason is he illustrated DEN HELIGE NATTEN by Hjalmar Gullberg.  A short story on the Holy Night ( containing 4 original prints). The most appropriate story for today. ( the book is available at

Merry Christmas!



Posted on Leave a comment

Gabriel Lester (1972)

Schermafbeelding 2020-08-11 om 15.31.19

Yesterday a smaller sized blog on a recent addition, but this time you have to do more of an effort to learn something on this artist. Here is the text by Aaron Schuster on Gabriel Lester

More is Lester
On the cinematic in the work of Gabriel Lester

My title is in part inspired by a particularly felicitous slip of the tongue made during a lecture I attended in Brussels on the films of Marcel Broodthaers.  The speaker, wishing to express the great economy of Broodthaers’s productions, often made with meager means, presented the principle of his work as follows: Comment faire un minimum avec un maximum, or, as one would say in English, how to do less with more…  Of course, this ‘error’ is much more revealing of – in this case, not the speaker’s secret intention but – the actual situation, the essential wager, of contemporary art, especially in its relation to mass culture.  Put simply, the problem today is not so much maximizing scant resources or creating the greatest effect with relatively little means (think of the typical artist’s production budget compared with that of a Hollywood blockbuster), but how to introduce a cut or absence in the massive ballast of already existing things.  How to do ‘less’ with the ‘more’ of the world, or, if I can be forgiven this pun, how to lester it.  According to the Jewish doctrine of Tsimtsum, God created the world via a movement of self-contraction: in order for the world to emerge God first of all had to withdraw a part of Himself, to give up some of His all-encompassing Being, lest there be no space for anything to come into existence whatsoever.  Far from the world miraculously emerging from the void, the void itself is something to be actively produced.  What is fascinating about this mystical ontology is the way it puts negation at the very heart of creation.  The emergence of something new depends on the preliminary work of clearing away, of carving out a space in a universe that is already supersaturated, too full, too present, too much – the birth pangs of the new correspond precisely to the difficulty of this negative labor.  This particular understanding of the creative act has not escaped the attention of artists and philosophers.  Indeed, two of the most famous artistic pronouncements of modern times, Mallarm√©’s “Destruction was my Beatrice,” and Picasso’s “A picture is a sum of destructions,” point precisely to such a subtractive aesthetic.  Gilles Deleuze’s definition of painting is here exemplary: “the painter’s problem is not how to enter into the canvas… but how to get out of it.” (1) What does he mean by this?  Before any pigment has touched the painting’s surface, the canvas in a way already contains “everything [the artist] has in his head or around him,” (2) an amalgam of vague images, possibilities and visual clichés, so that the task of painting is to cut a path through the chaos.  (Balzac’s story “The Unknown Masterpiece,” one of the great programmatic texts of artistic modernity, spells out the dire consequences for the artist unable to find his way out of the canvas…)  Along similar lines, in her description of the writing process Marguerite Duras states, “What you’re going to write is already there in the darkness.”  Before the work of writing proper, a ‘pre-written’ text of amorphous ideas, half-formed phrases, and habitual formulas is already swirling about in the writer’s head, a kind of “black block” that must be broken up, pulverized if the sentences and paragraphs of the written piece are to take shape and become legible.  “I’m in the middle, and I seize the mass that’s already there, move it about, smash it up – it’s almost a question of muscles, of physical dexterity.” (3) To grasp what is at stake in this process, one needs to reverse that humdrum metaphysics which defines creation in terms of addition or filling in a void; on the contrary, the artist begins with an excess and his work is that of smashing up, stripping away, cutting through, getting out.  All artists are escape artists.

In the case of Gabriel Lester, the kind of cutting involved in his work is paradigmatically cinematic.  That Lester’s work is intimately connected with film has often been noted, and the artist himself has evinced some interest as a filmmaker in his video pieces.  Travel Without A Course (2004), for example, offers a kind of ‘portrait of the artist as a young screenwriter’, narrating an autobiographical journey to ex-Soviet Georgia where Lester intended to hole up with an old typewriter and knock out a script.  The string of wayward encounters that follows recalls the meandering character of another video, All Wrong (2005).  This short movie recounts the exploits of what is known in the psychoanalytic literature as a ‘normal psychotic’, a perfectly well-adapted person who floats through life without any inner psychological core, an actor with no existence outside his roles.  The piece is remarkable for its novel use of the now standard practices of sampling and remixing: all the images in the video were found on the internet via various search engines and later edited together to illustrate the story.  Here form and content go together, the amoral adventures of the movie’s main character imitating the aleatory wanderings of the typical internet surfer.  Beyond these more overt video experiments, however, it is primarily the installations that address the question of the nature of cinema, breaking down and re-deploying its different constituent elements and techniques.  Unlike many contemporary artists who use film as the starting point for their practice, re-cutting existing movies, replaying them under modified conditions, making videos in the margins of classic films, and so on, Lester works on a much more formal level.  For him film is not a given material to be manipulated, a privileged part of the daily spectacle, but first and foremost a way of seeing.  Indeed, Lester’s installation work might well be considered a post-cinematic art, that is, an art that has been shaped and formed by a distinctly filmic kind of perception, one made by a film-lover who has grown up with the movies.

How To Act (2000), Lester’s first and arguably still most visually impressive installation, described by the artist as a “dramatic light edit,” treats projected light as an autonomous element with its own rhythms and configurations.  The effect of the piece is akin to seeing the luminous patterns and random flashes emitted by a TV set in a dark room; without knowing what images they correspond to, the dance of lights takes on a life of its own.  How To Act presents a kind of zero-degree cinema, doing away with the ‘moving picture’ or film qua imaged story.  What remains is the flicker of the screen, accompanied by soundtracks taken from old VHS tapes, now calibrated and choreographed as an independent work.  Through this reduction the installation provides a kind of anamorphotic view on the movies, a look unable to make out the figures on the silver screen but entranced by the abstract light blobs that they are.  Habitat Sequences (2000) plays as well with the possibilities of lighting, this time in relation to a fixed set whose physiognomy radically changes as it is differently lit.  A standard living room appears like a crime scene in some hardboiled detective story or the setting for a lovers’ tryst as strategically positioned lamps switch on and off, revealing multiple and sometimes contradictory surroundings: a cozy corner here, a menacing emptiness there, a phone about to ring with an urgent message, a washed out overview, a tiny light burning in the darkness.  There is definitely something cold and calculated about this work, almost mathematical in its precision, as it enumerates the possible permutations of mood and feeling enabled by alternate lightings.  Rosemary’s Baby (2002) achieves a similar ‘sequencing’ effect though without the use of lights.  A room is sealed off, inaccessible to the spectator, save for cuts in the walls that permit six different views into its interior.  Lester’s reference is to the mysterious second apartment in Polanski’s film, behind Mia Farrow and John Cassavetes’s, where the satanic intrigues take place.  Just as the space of this apartment is hinted at throughout the movie yet always partially out-of-frame, so too can Lester’s room only be peeped into.  The voyeurism is heightened by the room’s disheveled d√©cor, looking as if ransacked by a burglar or wrecked in a domestic dispute: someone has been here before.  Altar (2001) and Cross Section (2006) employ the same cutting technique, the former consisting of a pub divided by wooden sheets into separate lanes, the latter a building with slices take out of it allowing for different peeks inside its network of rooms and corridors.  Lester cuts a room as if it were a film, and many of his installation works can be conceived as spatial edits, introducing temporal movement to an otherwise fixed or static environment. 

In one of his essays André Bazin argued for a “mixed” cinema, that is, for a cinema that would be enriched by its borrowings from the other arts. (4) Alain Badiou, taking up and radicalizing this thesis, describes cinema as “an impure art,” “the ‘plus-one’ of the arts, both parasitic and inconsistent.” (5) For Badiou cinema is an inherently hybrid medium, taking from theater, literature, music, painting, and so on, without having a ‘proper’ domain.  “Cinema is the seventh art in a very particular sense.  It does not add itself to the other six while remaining on the same level as them.  Rather, its implies them […] It operates on the other arts, using them as its starting point, in a movement that subtracts them from themselves.” (6) What is unique to cinema is the way that it mobilizes the different arts so that they become contaminated with one another, thus creating an impure, heterogeneous space: a supplement or a ‘plus-one’, not a Gesamtkunstwerk-style synthesis.  What Lester does is retranslate the impurity characteristic of cinema back into the realm of the plastic arts.   His installations isolate and examine different component elements of film like lighting, set design, music, and image, while subjecting them to a cinematic treatment (cutting, multiple takes, frame/out-of-frame tension, etc.).  In my mind, the two works that best exemplify this technique are Clock & Clockwork (2003) and Highlight (plan B) (2004).  The first involves a modish waiting room with a rotating wall – an old horror movie trick – that opens onto an eerily antiseptic clinical setting, a labyrinth of waist high tables with glass and metal partitions.  The installation’s menacing yet pristine aesthetics is an homage, according to the artist, to Kafka and Cronenberg.  The two versions of the waiting room (one brightly lit with a white cubical bookcase, the other with softer yellow lighting and chic wooden armoire) explore in a way similar to Habitat Sequences the effects of lighting on the creation of a space.  Even more than the latter, Clock & Clockwork feels like a virtual movie set, the backdrop for an imaginary, non-existent film, with small objects placed on the immaculate laboratory tables – a sponge, a pencil – suggesting elements of a story that remains untold.  Following a certain modernist logic, Lester’s installations evoke a hole or an absence, a missing film, an unknown narrative, a mystery figure, multiple perspectives that don’t add up.  If Clock & Clockwork conjures a quasi-cinematic atmosphere, Highlight (plan B) deals with the cinematic apparatus itself.  The viewer was first stuck by the impressive appearance of the object in the main hall of Brussels’s Palais des Beaux Arts: a cantankerous yet sleekly designed white machine, consisting of a large L-shaped support with multiple rectangular tubes jutting out the front.  The tubes function as periscopes, cutting up reality on the other side of the machine into small viewable chunks and vertically displacing them via a system of meticulously calibrated tilted mirrors.  You bend down and peer into the screen at your feet to see the designs on the ceiling; at eye level you view the tiles on the floor. (This inverted universe of mirror reflections is also reflected in the thin mirror strips that Lester discreetly attached to the sides of the columns in the hall).  An escape artist is above all an illusionist, a trickster like Houdini, and here Lester’s funky contraption charms his audience even though its trickery is perfectly transparent.  What is especially remarkable about Highlight (plan B) is the contrast between the elegance and simplicity of its visual illusion and the massive presence (even ugliness) of the technical apparatus needed to produce it – so great a device for such a rudimentary trick!  It is as if the material correlate of the transformation of the real into images was this huge stain in reality itself.  This is, of course, highly ironical, since today the means of technological reproduction have shrunk to tiny, pocketable proportions, while the capacity for image manipulation has become nearly infinite.

The Gabriel Lester publication is available at

gabriel lester a


Posted on Leave a comment

Sigurdur Gudmundsson (continued)

Schermafbeelding 2020-08-11 om 15.23.02

Just a simple message today…. I have added the very best book on Sigurdur Gudmundsson to my inventory. Published by Zsa Zsa Eyck who presented Gudmundsson several times in her gallery. A very large publication with over 300 pages and arguably the very best and most important book on the artist.

gudmundsson aa

Posted on Leave a comment

Fernando Sánchez Castillo (1970)

Schermafbeelding 2020-08-03 om 15.34.58

In his work Fernando Sánchez Castillo analyzes the relationship between art and (political) power. The artist presents us with a different view of, and interaction with, reality in his work. Sánchez Castillo often uses existing “traces” from the past as a starting point for his work and as material for his analysis and transformations. He does so—on the basis of strong social commitment—in a playful and humorous manner. Sánchez Castillo’s fascination with the history of his home country, with the civil war, the postwar era and the dictatorship, but also with today’s world, departs from a concern not only for the political and the revolutionary, but certainly for the social aspects of historical processes as well. Collective memory extends far beyond national boundaries and finds its way into the present. The artist plays with connotations that once sought images to match and, conversely, with images that now demand new connotations. The work of the Sánchez Castillo is an attempt to rewrite history, at least to make us aware of its complexity and traces, and also to show that history is a story that is constantly being constructed from the vantage point of power.

Fernando Sánchez Castillo was born in 1970 in Madrid (ES). He holds a degree in Fine Arts from the University of Complutense Madrid, and a MA degree from the Instituto de Estética Contemporánea, Universidad Autónoma, Madrid. He is a former member of the research group of ENSBA Paris. In 2005 and 2006 he was a resident at the Rijksakademie van Beeldende Kunsten in  Amsterdam (NL). Sánchez Castillo participated in the Research Team of the United Nations Geneva, PIMPA Memory, Politics and Art Practices. He had solo exhibitions at a.o. Shchusev State Museum of Architecture, Moscow (2019, RU); Kunstraum Innsbruck (2016, AT); Sala de Arte Público Siqueiros, Polanco (2016, MX); Stedelijk Museum ’s-Hertogenbosch (2016, NL); Centro de Arte Dos de Mayo CA2M, Madrid (2015, ES); OK Centrum Linz (2014, AT); Rabo Kunstzone, Utrecht (2013, NL); Kunstpavillon München (2013, DE); Kunstverein Braunschweig (2012, DE); Matadero Madrid (2012, ES); CAC Malaga (2011, ES). Group shows at a.o. Riga Biennial (2018, LT); National Center for Contemporary Arts. Moscow (2016, RU); Today Art Museum Beijing (2016, CN); Biennale Gherdëina (2016, IT); Centraal Museum Utrecht (2016, NL); Manifesta 11 Zürich (2016, CH); Albertinum Dresden (2015, DE); Palais de Tokyo (2015, FR); MOTA Tokyo (2014, JP); Goteborg Biennial (2013, SE); De Appel Amsterdam (2013, NL) and MAC Marseille (2013, FR). Works by Fernando Sánchez Castillo are part of international public and private collections.

the CAC Malaga exhibition catalogue is available at

Posted on Leave a comment

Wyn Geleynse (1947)

Schermafbeelding 2020-04-10 om 12.03.04

What better way to introduce a video artist with a video i found on the internet. Just a short video of 3 minutes introduces this Rotterdam born artist, but living almost his entire life in Canada.


Wyn Geleynse is a multimedia artist living and working in London, Ontario. Born in Rotterdam, Netherlands in 1947, Geleynse moved to Canada as a child and was raised in London, Ontario. Since 1969, he has exhibited extensively both in Canada and Europe. Considered one of Canada’s pioneer film and video projection artists, Geleynse’s career spans a period of nearly 40 years. His work raises questions about self and identity, commenting on the human condition with a subtle blend of irony and humanity. Interested in the notion of film projection as a metaphor for projecting one’s thoughts and desires, Geleynse worked primarily with installation-based projections in the past. In 2009, he produced an outdoor DVD projection work titled “Wyn Geleynse: The Peel Projection” for the site that will become the Art Gallery of Peel in Brampton, Ontario. has 2 titles on Geleynse available:



Posted on Leave a comment

Gerald van der Kaap (1959)

Schermafbeelding 2020-07-28 om 09.58.13

Of course I can tell you that since his breakthrough exhibition HOVER HOVER at the Stedelijk Museum ( catalogue available at the conceptual works by Gerald van der Kaap have been shown all over the world and that he received public acclaim for practically all his installations and projects. Everything he takes up turns into a work of art. Whether it is a book, museum catalogue, Video, record or print everything turns into something special. Best is to show you what I mean with presenting two links.

the first the Gerald van der Kaap site at :

and the second at the Hollandsche Meesters series which devoted one of his video to Gerald van der Kaap:


these 2 books are among others at this moment available: