It's a never-ending search for the right qualifications: memory and desire, melancholy and tenderness, awareness and dream. There's no shortage of words seemingly expressing some element or other of Anneke van Brussel's work … but whether that is enough?
There are artists who seek to hold up a mirror to the world, and then there are artists who operate inside a world of their own, a world which started out receiving its impulses from outside but which has gradually come to form a universe unto itself. Occasionally a small window seems to be opening up and new impressions are added, to try and blend in with all that's familiar within the confines of that very private world. And although there isn't the slightest desire to communicate, strangely enough the outside world insists of finding out everything there is to know about these artists. The outside world hankers after the poetry of what is so subtly private. Could the reason be that we all have, somewhere inside us, fragments of memories and longing we'd love to cultivate, relive and communicate if only we knew how? We don't know how to do it, but that doesn't stop us recognising those rare souls who seemingly remotely, as if by accident, demonstrate that there is no rule that says we should behave as we think people should behave … A single feather can unlock memories of the past in the mind of the viewer, memories that blend with desires having long been pushed aside. The feather sparks the insight that it takes next to nothing to point the mind in a direction that would otherwise stand barely a chance. This "awareness" is prompted by Anneke van Brussel's compelling brush, which owing to the attention she devotes to it always recreates the least striking object one could think of into a tiny monument, thus enabling her to our own amazement to penetrate our shell. Koen Nieuwendijk. |