Erna Anema / Kazimir Malevich

 

 

Kazimir Malevich

Yellow Plane in Dissolution
1917-1918
109 x 73,5 x 4,5 cm
oil on canvas
Stedelijk Museum Amsterdam

 

 

 

 

In my paintings I investigate boundaries. Wherever colors differ from one another more than they resemble each other, a boundary arises. This, in my view, is what painting is about, and I first realized this when I saw the painting 'Yellow Plane in Dissolution' (1917–1918) by Kazimir Malevich. 

 

In addition, the characteristics of Suprematism are: simple geometric forms, a limited color palette, and a focus on abstraction in which the emotional experience of both the maker and the viewer in relation to the subject is important. Although the series in which I paint always have a landscape as their point of departure, and they represent a translation into abstraction. Presented here are several works from my glacier series.

 

Erna Anema, 2026

 

 

 

Erna Anema

Morene A2

2023

120 x 180 cm

oil on canvas

 

 

Erna Anema (NL)

Morene B3

2023

40 x 60 cm

oil on canvas

https://ernaanema.nl

 

Frank Anderson / Willem de Kooning

 

Willem de Kooning 

Rosy Fingered Dawn at Louse Point

1963

oil on canvas

203,5 x 177,5 cm

Stedelijk Museum, Amsterdam

 

 

I have always been in love with the open space 

that sounds like a flag flapping in the wind.

The vastness. The distances and depths. The perspective. 

The high sky and its promises. The light and the states of mind. 

The shaped time. Space and movement. 

The philosophical space, therefore, and not the romantic one. 

 

A painting comes into being over time. 

That duration ensures an accumulation of intensities within the painting. 

The painting is therefore never a representation of reality 

but always a stack of intensities, which itself becomes a new reality.

Material that is animated by the spiritual act placed within it. 

Which leads to a painting practice consisting of endlessly looking 

at a brushstroke until it shows something.

 

That is what struck me when I first saw de Kooning’s 

"Rosy Fingered Dawn at Louse Point" in the eighties. The recognition! 

The openness and the seemingly effortless manner of painting, that captures 

an overwhelming, complex emotion, summoned by perception. 

The light, the space, the wind, and the body, all in sync. 

And finally the title. Evocative poetry that brings the painting to another level. 

 

The impact it had on me became a starting point for what painting could be.

 

Frank Anderson, 2026

Frank Anderson

Latour serie (Self and shadow)

2026

acrylic on linen

20 x 30 cm

studio collection

Frank Anderson

Ramifications 1

2024

acrylic on linen

20 x 30 cm

private collection

Frank Anderson (NL)

Ramifications 2

2024

acrylic on linen

30 x 40 cm

private collection

https://frankanderson.nl

Ton van Kints / Yves Klein

 

Yves Klein

Leap into the Void

1960

photograph

 

 

In her article 'Philosophy and Image: Leap into the Void', published on 9 March 2018, philosopher Noortje de Leij explored the difference in meaning between the suggestion of being able to rise up, as in Klein's artwork, and the beauty of falling over and over again, which is a form of surrender to the inevitable. She referred in particular to the work of artists such as Bruce Nauman and Bas Jan Ader, in which the repeated fall signifies a letting go of unrealizable illusions. 'Falling again and again, uselessly, aimlessly, without the illusion of a better existence elsewhere, is more heroic than a single leap into space. It is not the illusion of happiness shining down on us from above, but insight into what is going on (what is the case) that holds the promise of a happy life. The tragedy of the fall therefore perhaps holds more happiness than the heroic leap that tries to conceal its doomed failure. Or as Samuel Beckett's famous adage put it: Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.'

 

A work of my own that I have chosen was created in 1984, but it no longer exists. It was constructed from iron, wood, glass and varnish. In other words, a layering of materials that become increasingly less solid and more fluid. I probably cut the piece up to use as the basis for another work. I’d love to see it again, and I’ve often thought about making a copy. I don’t do that, though, because the memory of the sculpture is probably a more satisfying result.

 

Ton van Kints, 2026

Ton van Kints

ZT

1984

iron, wood, glass, varnish

ca 150 x 110 x 5 cm

www.tonvankints.nl