Untitled (Onkenhout)
Customized sculpture by Nico Onkenhout, dating from early 1970's, rotating on a wooden pedestal. Additional text and photography in Roma publication no. 121, placed in a wooden display. Sizes: 23 x 34 x 215 cm and 16 x 24 x 94 cm.
Exhbition: 'Questioning History' at Nederlands Fotomuseum (Rotterdam, december 2008 - february 2009, curated by Frank van der Stok)
Customized sculpture by Nico Onkenhout, dating from early 1970's, rotating on a wooden pedestal. Additional text and photography in Roma publication no. 121, placed in a wooden display. Sizes: 23 x 34 x 215 cm and 16 x 24 x 94 cm.
Exhbition: 'Questioning History' at Nederlands Fotomuseum (Rotterdam, december 2008 - february 2009, curated by Frank van der Stok)
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[Nederlandse versie]
Full text:
We’re sitting by the open hearth, a good bottle of wine half empty. “I’ve got something for you”, my mother says as she gets up. “Cos I’ve been tidying up again.” She’s almost 80 and her house has become a collection point for the household effects of aunts and uncles who all died childless. She sits back down with a stack of postcards. “There’re so many postcards that don’t mean a thing to us. There’re enough collectors, so I will be able to get shot of them; but I was wondering whether these might be of any interest to you.”
She tops up my glass while I take a look at the postcards. There’re five, all of them of pre-war depictions of Amsterdam. One of them shows Dam Square, taken from the Great Industrial Club towards the de Bijenkorf department store. At the spot where the National Monument now stands you can see a patch of grass bordered by flowers.
“How odd,” I say. “Such a sleepy little public garden where the monument now stands. Smack bang in the middle of the city centre. So twee and not the least bit metropolitan.”
“Yes, it’s a time we can barely imagine now,” she says.
The conversation dies down and we stare into the fire.
Then out of nothing, she says: “Once I was in love with a sculptor who worked on the monument.”
“Oh?” I say. She doesn’t usually make this sort of confession.
“Nico,” she continues. “At this party once, sometime in the 50s. You run into someone and the spark just lights. But you know how it is with men. I never heard from him again.”
“Nico who?” I ask her.
“Onkenhout.”
Staring at the picture of the garden on the postcard I catch a glimpse of my mother in a version of her life that she never lived, one in which Nico had gotten in touch, after that evening out. Perhaps now she’d have a different surname and be sitting by a different fire drinking wine with a different child. In a moment that feels like an oedipal short circuit, I experience something impossible: that I never existed.
When I get back the next day I Google the man who dumped my mother. There are only five hits. I can’t find out anything about his being involved with the National Monument. He probably only helped out with the practical side of things, did some chiselling on the letters of the poem or some such, but the credits for the different parts all go to others. The overall design is by the architect J.J.P. Oud, the three central groups of sculptures by John Raedecker, the two watchful lions by his sons Han and Jan Willem Raedecker and the reliefs for the provincial coat of arms on the back are by Paul Grégoire. In the post-war era of the great monument builders, Onkenhout seems to have done the minor work. A year after the unveiling of the monument on Dam Square in 1957, his Zeeland Bench was placed on the Weteringcircuit. The bench had sculpted elements; an expression of gratitude from the victims of the Great Zeeland Flood of 1953 for the help from Amsterdam. If one cycles past now, it’s nothing but a hangout for the homeless and the junkies. In 1964, the year I was born, Onkenhout created Work and Intellect reach out their hands to each other, in commemoration of the opening of the Haringvliet Bridge. Onkenhout is also listed somewhere as a medal recipient. He died in 1989 at the age of 71.
One of these five hits links Onkenhout to the present. There’s a statuette by him on eBay of the pre-war children’s character Dik Trom. I make an appointment, and the woman whose doorbell I ring tells me it was left to her as part of her parents’ estate. Her father, a village notable, had been involved with erecting a statue in honour of Dik Trom’s spiritual father, by Onkenhout. The smaller version of the statue, which now stands before us on the table, has been in the woman’s family home since the 70s, but she wants to get rid of it because she’s always thought it to be an ugly monstrosity. Dik Trom, who’s always getting into fixes, is sitting back to front on a bucking mule. Because, as dumb as he is, he’s still the only one in the village who can ride the obstinate beast that belongs to Bertel the trader. And that’s how Onkenhout has depicted him: with his feet wrapped in the reins as he hangs on to the mule’s tail for dear life.
The statuette is made of bronze; it has a brown-green patina and is smooth. I think it’s ugly too but I buy it anyway, for 250 Euros, stick it in the boot of the car and drive to Hoofddorp. The original is approximately two metres high and stands in the parking lot at the local shopping centre, which just as the statue stems from the 1970s. Onkenhout worked terribly hard on the profile, but en face the statue deflates into a lifeless symmetry; while contorted forms would perhaps have been a more obvious choice for a bucking mule. Dik Trom’s head is rounded and he has scarcely any facial expression. Everything is two-dimensional. Even the prominent display of the mule’s arse at eye level, which one might expect to have caused a disturbance to the public order, has been executed without any sense of danger. Everyone can carry on with their shopping in peace.
The statuette stands on the mantelpiece in my studio. The smoothness of the bronze and the fine portrayal of what is an already corny subject are the things that make the thing increasingly difficult to have around. And above all I’m loyal to my mother. In the months that follow I ask myself what the statuette might need to soften my irritation with it. One day I stick the statuette in the boot of my car and take it to a metal finisher’s. After a 52-hour electrode bath, a new layer of copper a couple of millimetres thick has irreversibly coalesced around Onkenhout’s bronze. At the protruding parts, irregular bulges have developed, which one could never mould with the hand. The bill for the chroming and electroplating currently stands at 1250 Euros and that’s where I’m going to leave it. The statuette looks quite a bit better now.
A year and a half later, a biologist comes to visit my studio and remarks on the statuette. I tell him about my act of iconoclasm. In return he tells me about a breed of horses where the stallions shit on top of the turds of the weaker males to underline their superiority within the herd.
UNDER CONSTRUCTION
Een voorspoedig 2133!
Wie zich verdiept in de geschiedenis van tijdcapsules vindt genoeg redenen om er geen te maken. De meesten verdwijnen, omdat ze vergaan of omdat ze worden vergeten. Toch zijn we bezig om er een in Rotterdam samen te stellen. Want ook al zijn we tegenwoordig geneigd om alleen met ironische distantie naar tijdcapsules te kijken, ze bieden nog steeds mogelijkheden. Niet zozeer voor onze nazaten, maar voor onszelf.
Wie zich verdiept in de geschiedenis van tijdcapsules vindt genoeg redenen om er geen te maken. De meesten verdwijnen, omdat ze vergaan of omdat ze worden vergeten. Toch zijn we bezig om er een in Rotterdam samen te stellen. Want ook al zijn we tegenwoordig geneigd om alleen met ironische distantie naar tijdcapsules te kijken, ze bieden nog steeds mogelijkheden. Niet zozeer voor onze nazaten, maar voor onszelf.
Rejected Conceptualism
Inventarisnummer BK53086 - BK53115. Serie van 30 potloodtekeningen. Begin 1 juni 1976, einde 30 juni 1976. Kunstenaar: Jan Hoving. Titel: Zonder titel. Beschrijving: Vierkant met potloodarcering, met begin- en eindtijdnotering. Materiaal: potlood, papier. Hoogte: 54,8. Breedte: 54,8. Staat: redelijk. Organisatie: Instituut Collectie Nederland. Rubriek: Beeldende kunst. Dit werk wordt afgestoten door Instituut Collectie Nederland.
Inventarisnummer BK53086 - BK53115. Serie van 30 potloodtekeningen. Begin 1 juni 1976, einde 30 juni 1976. Kunstenaar: Jan Hoving. Titel: Zonder titel. Beschrijving: Vierkant met potloodarcering, met begin- en eindtijdnotering. Materiaal: potlood, papier. Hoogte: 54,8. Breedte: 54,8. Staat: redelijk. Organisatie: Instituut Collectie Nederland. Rubriek: Beeldende kunst. Dit werk wordt afgestoten door Instituut Collectie Nederland.
Recto / Verso
Interview covergirl Lauren Hutton was photographed by Francesco Scavullo in 1973. She's wearing Galanos - from his exciting fall 1973 collection. Accessorized by Galanos, makeup by Way Bandy, hair by Rick Gilette. The photo was re-photographed by Anuschka Blommers and Niels Schumm in 2003, with model Uta Eichhorn posing as Re-Magazine covergirl Claudia. She's wearing a black dress by Hermès. Styling by Katja Rahlwes, makeup by Renata Mandic.
Interview covergirl Lauren Hutton was photographed by Francesco Scavullo in 1973. She's wearing Galanos - from his exciting fall 1973 collection. Accessorized by Galanos, makeup by Way Bandy, hair by Rick Gilette. The photo was re-photographed by Anuschka Blommers and Niels Schumm in 2003, with model Uta Eichhorn posing as Re-Magazine covergirl Claudia. She's wearing a black dress by Hermès. Styling by Katja Rahlwes, makeup by Renata Mandic.
Media Suicide
De 38-jarige Karst T. uit Huissen reed even voor het middaguur in op toeschouwers in een bewuste actie de koninklijke familie te raken. De man raakte zelf ernstig gewond en verkeerde gisteravond in levensgevaar. De man ontweek op de Jachtlaan in Apeldoorn twee afzettingen en reed met zijn zwarte Suzuki Swift in op de menigte. De koninklijke familie zag vanaf een paar meter afstand hoe de man tegen monument De Naald botste.
De 38-jarige Karst T. uit Huissen reed even voor het middaguur in op toeschouwers in een bewuste actie de koninklijke familie te raken. De man raakte zelf ernstig gewond en verkeerde gisteravond in levensgevaar. De man ontweek op de Jachtlaan in Apeldoorn twee afzettingen en reed met zijn zwarte Suzuki Swift in op de menigte. De koninklijke familie zag vanaf een paar meter afstand hoe de man tegen monument De Naald botste.
Destroyed Thinker
In january 2007 two thieves stole a small cast of the Thinker from the Singer Museum in Laren, Holland. Not knowing the value of the sculpture, the thieves started taking the sculpture apart to be melted down. Alarmed by the press attention for their theft, and learning about its estimated value, they burried the sculpture in their garden. A few days later it was found, heavily damaged.
In january 2007 two thieves stole a small cast of the Thinker from the Singer Museum in Laren, Holland. Not knowing the value of the sculpture, the thieves started taking the sculpture apart to be melted down. Alarmed by the press attention for their theft, and learning about its estimated value, they burried the sculpture in their garden. A few days later it was found, heavily damaged.
Rodin research
From 2005 onwards, I have been focusing on Rodin as a research topic. The main question that I ask myself is in what way Rodin consciously helped shaping the mythical proportions of his own artistic persona. By studying his life and works and by studying the timeframe of the second half of the nineteenth century – in which his work came to existence – I seek to create a context of paralel references as a source of inspiration for nowadays artistic practice.
From 2005 onwards, I have been focusing on Rodin as a research topic. The main question that I ask myself is in what way Rodin consciously helped shaping the mythical proportions of his own artistic persona. By studying his life and works and by studying the timeframe of the second half of the nineteenth century – in which his work came to existence – I seek to create a context of paralel references as a source of inspiration for nowadays artistic practice.
Miscellaneous
This is a selection of older works, dating roughly from 1990 until now. It's a reservoir of lose ends. Part of my practice is to go back in time, and re-evaluate previous motives and actions. Therefore, a lot of my works have an unfinished, ambiguous nature. Either they have lost their momentum after they were exhibited, or were never shown outside of my studio, or are just waiting for completion in another context.
This is a selection of older works, dating roughly from 1990 until now. It's a reservoir of lose ends. Part of my practice is to go back in time, and re-evaluate previous motives and actions. Therefore, a lot of my works have an unfinished, ambiguous nature. Either they have lost their momentum after they were exhibited, or were never shown outside of my studio, or are just waiting for completion in another context.
Co*star
Dus toen kreeg ik heel erg de wens, als mens maar ook als kunstenaar, om me te bevrijden van al die dingen... om werkelijk iets nieuws in te slaan. Maar dat gaat niet, want je kan het nieuwe niet bedenken op basis van al die ouwe zooi. Dus ik dacht, ik wil daar van af... en toen bleek dat soap ... bleek een deur te zijn naar... zeg maar dat je die ruimte in je hoofd weer werkelijk leeg zou kunnen maken en als een soort potentie zou kunnen gaan vullen... zelf.
Dus toen kreeg ik heel erg de wens, als mens maar ook als kunstenaar, om me te bevrijden van al die dingen... om werkelijk iets nieuws in te slaan. Maar dat gaat niet, want je kan het nieuwe niet bedenken op basis van al die ouwe zooi. Dus ik dacht, ik wil daar van af... en toen bleek dat soap ... bleek een deur te zijn naar... zeg maar dat je die ruimte in je hoofd weer werkelijk leeg zou kunnen maken en als een soort potentie zou kunnen gaan vullen... zelf.
Retitled
For the last couple of years in a row, artists had been invited who felt at home in a big show environment. This had thrown up a number of lively and playful installations, but this year the budding tradition was in jeopardy: for a variety of reasons there was next to no money for art projects. The only kitty in the budget that might be called upon had been set aside for the printing of the half a million paper napkins that were to be used during the festival.
For the last couple of years in a row, artists had been invited who felt at home in a big show environment. This had thrown up a number of lively and playful installations, but this year the budding tradition was in jeopardy: for a variety of reasons there was next to no money for art projects. The only kitty in the budget that might be called upon had been set aside for the printing of the half a million paper napkins that were to be used during the festival.
I shot Madonna
When she comes past I click away hysterically. Not even with the intention of getting her picture but more because I’m in the press enclosure and have to prove that I’m a photographer or so. I’m so busy with the camera and she goes by so fast that I hardly catch a glimpse of her. The print I have made is blurred. Also that night was the first time she showed up with a black hairdo instead of her usual blonde, so nobody recognized her on the photo.
When she comes past I click away hysterically. Not even with the intention of getting her picture but more because I’m in the press enclosure and have to prove that I’m a photographer or so. I’m so busy with the camera and she goes by so fast that I hardly catch a glimpse of her. The print I have made is blurred. Also that night was the first time she showed up with a black hairdo instead of her usual blonde, so nobody recognized her on the photo.
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