


On a date with myself


For a long time I felt that I needed to find a ‘’practical’’ reason for my work to exist. I felt as if what I feel is not a good enough reason;                                                                                                and it was a beautiful realization when I remembered that I can be free.

It is hard to put it into words but all of a sudden, you have all the pieces of the puzzle and they just fit. Only by searching inwards, I managed to see that I was able to connect with other people.

My recent work shamelessly dives deep into one of the most introspective journeys I have ever partaken. It explores the different sides of ‘affection’ such as self-love, lost love, nurture and care.


3 week journal
(collaboration with Catelijne Boele)


Merging thoughts and feelings through talking, sharing space and time; we created a safe space for ourselves in an environment that is constantly changing and breaking. The work mirrors our discussions, feelings and shared events. Only one rule was set throughout the realization of the work: We have to simultaneously be working on the piece.

Whilst sharing the same space we saw our work growing around one another. Hence, our collaboration progressed into something concrete; exploring the concept of authorship and questioning what it means to think as one.




For a long time I felt that I needed to find a ‘’practical’’ reason for my work to exist. I felt as if what I feel is not a good enough reason;                                                                                                and it was a beautiful realization when I remembered that I can be free.

It is hard to put it into words but all of a sudden, you have all the pieces of the puzzle and they just fit. Only by searching inwards, I managed to see that I was able to connect with other people.

My recent work shamelessly dives deep into one of the most introspective journeys I have ever partaken. It explores the different sides of ‘affection’ such as self-love, lost love, nurture and care.

Merging thoughts and feelings through talking, sharing space and time; we created a safe space for ourselves in an environment that is constantly changing and breaking. The work mirrors our discussions, feelings and shared events. Only one rule was set throughout the realization of the work: We have to simultaneously be working on the piece.

Whilst sharing the same space we saw our work growing around one another. Hence, our collaboration progressed into something concrete; exploring the concept of authorship and questioning what it means to think as one.



                                                                                                                              Re-Attachment
                                                                                                                 
                                                                                                                      Andrea van Gelder


One of the most intriguing human struggles to me is human attachment, which is related to the early years of human life. It is an irreversible phase and has a fundamental impact on human development during the whole journey of life. The capability for humans to attach builds a solid, essential and existential foundation to develop a sense of self. Attachment difficulties disturbs the foundation and results into ambivalence and an ambiguous self.

My work represents a struggle with a “something” object that is clearly visible but not easily identifiable.

I am working with this object for three years now. The object was not made by me, it was on its way to the garbage. I felt a fascination for the shape, color and size. It had value and I felt resistance against destroying it. The object was used as a mold for a kidney and was meant for a hospital.

I was fascinated by this big white object. Crawling into it was an instant association which I did. Being inside the object I experienced a calming effect and the instant bond between the object and me was a fact.

The object became a part of my study and slowly a part of my life. It became a part of my housing habits. A sleeping space where I experience a déjà vu of my own early human development phase. Being inside the object provides me insight and at the same time a moment to cure my own complicated arrival as once announced as a still birth child.

With the work I hope to initiate an internal dialogue inside every viewer to connect and cure past struggles.




                                                                                                                              Re-Attachment

                                                                                                                      Andrea van Gelder

One of the most intriguing human struggles to me is human attachment, which is related to the early years of human life. It is an irreversible phase and has a fundamental impact on human development during the whole journey of life. The capability for humans to attach builds a solid, essential and existential foundation to develop a sense of self. Attachment difficulties disturbs the foundation and results into ambivalence and an ambiguous self.

My work represents a struggle with a “something” object that is clearly visible but not easily identifiable.

I am working with this object for three years now. The object was not made by me, it was on its way to the garbage. I felt a fascination for the shape, color and size. It had value and I felt resistance against destroying it. The object was used as a mold for a kidney and was meant for a hospital.

I was fascinated by this big white object. Crawling into it was an instant association which I did. Being inside the object I experienced a calming effect and the instant bond between the object and me was a fact.

The object became a part of my study and slowly a part of my life. It became a part of my housing habits. A sleeping space where I experience a déjà vu of my own early human development phase. Being inside the object provides me insight and at the same time a moment to cure my own complicated arrival as once announced as a still birth child.

With the work I hope to initiate an internal dialogue inside every viewer to connect and cure past struggles.




I wanted to say something but I forgot



Through dreams      ( past ) ( future )       and reflections         ( present )       I travel;


drawing a connection between text and textile, while inspired by the liquidity and endlessness of the sea, I explore what we do and don’t see. What it means to be closer and further away at the same time, ( touching and not touching ) and the ephemeral nature of reflections, movement and words.





3 week journal
(collaboration with Anca Bârjovanu)


Merging thoughts and feelings through talking, sharing space and time; we created a safe space for ourselves in an environment that is constantly changing and breaking. The work mirrors our discussions, feelings and shared events. Only one rule was set throughout the realization of the work: We have to simultaneously be working on the piece.
Whilst sharing the same space we saw our work growing around one another. Hence, our collaboration progressed into something concrete; exploring the concept of authorship and questioning what it means to think as one.





Through dreams      ( past ) ( future )       and reflections         ( present )       I travel;

drawing a connection between text and textile, while inspired by the liquidity and endlessness of the sea, I explore what we do and don’t see. What it means to be closer and further away at the same time, ( touching and not touching ) and the ephemeral nature of reflections, movement and words.




You will never have fresh eyes

Mark-making captivated my interest as it is an apprehension of both the conscious and subconscious expression, movement, and moment that will never come again.

For a process of an individual painting, I- an artist was a tool, like a brush. Paints used my hand on its way through the canvas. Though led by such subconsciousness, it was vital for me to stay sober when painting so that I can observe and learn from my subconscious side.

For the outcome and overall work, the role was reversed. I- an artist used my artworks as tools. The observations that I gained during each (subconscious) painting process trained the conscious side of my mind. The artistic manipulation hence lies in the process of juxtaposing and setup between the paintings that were previously made in a subconsciously saturated state.

The subconscious mind silenced the conscious mind during each painting whereas the conscious mind manipulated the subconscious mind after painting.

Therefore, the artist (the consciousness in this case) and artwork (the subconsciousness in this case) are using each other, learning from each other, and mirroring each other. But like the two mirrors facing one another, it is never-ending and never fully comprehensible. But you, as a viewer, always find yourself staring at your own glare when in between these two, don’t you?




Mark-making captivated my interest as it is an apprehension of both the conscious and subconscious expression, movement, and moment that will never come again.

For a process of an individual painting, I- an artist was a tool, like a brush. Paints used my hand on its way through the canvas. Though led by such subconsciousness, it was vital for me to stay sober when painting so that I can observe and learn from my subconscious side.

For the outcome and overall work, the role was reversed. I- an artist used my artworks as tools. The observations that I gained during each (subconscious) painting process trained the conscious side of my mind. The artistic manipulation hence lies in the process of juxtaposing and setup between the paintings that were previously made in a subconsciously saturated state.

The subconscious mind silenced the conscious mind during each painting whereas the conscious mind manipulated the subconscious mind after painting.

Therefore, the artist (the consciousness in this case) and artwork (the subconsciousness in this case) are using each other, learning from each other, and mirroring each other. But like the two mirrors facing one another, it is never-ending and never fully comprehensible. But you, as a viewer, always find yourself staring at your own glare when in between these two, don’t you?






In most manga, a lot of illustration is used to express effects or explosive speeds that we cannot actually see. They exist as air around them, not as protagonists.

I am interested in this atmospheric background world of manga and web. Although manga primarily communicates through language and figuration, I isolate the numerous dots, geometric shapes, and lines that are used to express invisible moments within the limited conditions of flat and black/white.

The numerous manga effect images that I have collected were recombined in my own way and painted on three columns in the space. I was curious to see how it could work in space by putting drawings that were always trapped in small paper or screens into the physical world and placing them on square columns instead of flat surfaces.

In most manga, a lot of illustration is used to express effects or explosive speeds that we cannot actually see. They exist as air around them, not as protagonists.

I am interested in this atmospheric background world of manga and web. Although manga primarily communicates through language and figuration, I isolate the numerous dots, geometric shapes, and lines that are used to express invisible moments within the limited conditions of flat and black/white.

The numerous manga effect images that I have collected were recombined in my own way and painted on three columns in the space. I was curious to see how it could work in space by putting drawings that were always trapped in small paper or screens into the physical world and placing them on square columns instead of flat surfaces.




“L————nes”

The reality strips down to colours and lines. They mean nothing on their own; their meaning only emerges in and through painting’s materiality. They become the creators of their realms and are trying to write down the story using coherent alphabet. The lines are more about what is absent than what is present. About the weight that the emptiness carries and about the lightness it has within. An ambiguity within the painting itself.

The reality strips down to colours and lines. They mean nothing on their own; their meaning only emerges in and through painting’s materiality. They become the creators of their realms and are trying to write down the story using coherent alphabet. The lines are more about what is absent than what is present. About the weight that the emptiness carries and about the lightness it has within. An ambiguity within the painting itself.




“The year I became a tree”

My exhibition consists of four drawings and a poem, whose title “The Year I Became a Tree” is also the exhibition title. The works are autobiographical in nature, revolving around the metaphor of plant-life. As I describe in the poem, when I got my burnout, it felt like becoming a tree: no more movement, no more voice, something long stored away bursting out and overgrowing me.

Two drawings are self-portraits, while the other two include other figures besides me. Both of these are direct quotations from art history: Da Vinci’s angel from Vergine delle rocce towers over me in the largest piece, while the other drawing shows a scene from Botticelli’s Primavera, in which the wind god Zephyrus chases the nymph Chloris in order to make her his. When she screamed, from her mouth only came flowers.

Like Chloris, and her more famous counterpart Daphne, I turned into a tree because I became exhausted of dancing the dance with looks and gazes and touches, with the words and the histories of how a woman’s body should or shouldn’t be. My images and poetry are feminist in nature, but they are mostly about the autobiographical space of exhaustion that comes with holding that disposition in our world. In the art we celebrate. In our school.

My feminism, it seems, became anger, which became exhaustion, which became puking up leaves instead of words, but those leaves were also new roots for me to ground through. Connected in my disconnection, to both my own body and those girls that turned into trees before me. This is the particular feeling I sought to capture.





My exhibition consists of four drawings and a poem, whose title “The Year I Became a Tree” is also the exhibition title. The works are autobiographical in nature, revolving around the metaphor of plant-life. As I describe in the poem, when I got my burnout, it felt like becoming a tree: no more movement, no more voice, something long stored away bursting out and overgrowing me.

Two drawings are self-portraits, while the other two include other figures besides me. Both of these are direct quotations from art history: Da Vinci’s angel from Vergine delle rocce towers over me in the largest piece, while the other drawing shows a scene from Botticelli’s Primavera, in which the wind god Zephyrus chases the nymph Chloris in order to make her his. When she screamed, from her mouth only came flowers.

Like Chloris, and her more famous counterpart Daphne, I turned into a tree because I became exhausted of dancing the dance with looks and gazes and touches, with the words and the histories of how a woman’s body should or shouldn’t be. My images and poetry are feminist in nature, but they are mostly about the autobiographical space of exhaustion that comes with holding that disposition in our world. In the art we celebrate. In our school.

My feminism, it seems, became anger, which became exhaustion, which became puking up leaves instead of words, but those leaves were also new roots for me to ground through. Connected in my disconnection, to both my own body and those girls that turned into trees before me. This is the particular feeling I sought to capture.




Mom and Dad Kiss and Angry Little Girl

I have decided to revisit some memories.
My mom sent me some pictures of old drawings of mine. We laugh as we see ourselves in them. I laugh with the humor and innocence of the drawings, I smile as I remember making them. I am at a loss for preferring them to my current work. The truth is that I envy these drawings, more so, childhood. At times I get lost in my work and long for thoughtless acting. Realizing that, although, our consciousness is our greatest power; it comes to a disadvantage at times. Distorting truth, intentions, opinions and thoughts - they are analyzed only to be changed. For that I turn back the clock, and for this exhibition I am focusing on two drawings, both of which reflect my childhood home. One is happy and idyllic, the other clearly fuelled by a moment of anger. Both, however, share humor and honesty, traits that I wish to reinhabit and reapply to my current and future work.

The drawings have been projected on canvas and then painted, following the lines of my childhood hand, then to become an exaggeration of themselves; blown up with a bubble-gum color palette, like toys hanging on the wall.


”Angry Little Girl” (2020)
Acrylic paint and acrylic inc on canvas, ply wood frame
110x140cm

”Mom and Dad Kiss” (2020)
Acrylic paint and acrylic inc on canvas, 1.8mm MDF wood frame
105x160cm

My mom sent me some pictures of old drawings of mine. We laugh as we see ourselves in them. I laugh with the humor and innocence of the drawings, I smile as I remember making them. I am at a loss for preferring them to my current work. The truth is that I envy these drawings, more so, childhood. At times I get lost in my work and long for thoughtless acting. Realizing that, although, our consciousness is our greatest power; it comes to a disadvantage at times. Distorting truth, intentions, opinions and thoughts - they are analyzed only to be changed. For that I turn back the clock, and for this exhibition I am focusing on two drawings, both of which reflect my childhood home. One is happy and idyllic, the other clearly fuelled by a moment of anger. Both, however, share humor and honesty, traits that I wish to reinhabit and reapply to my current and future work.

The drawings have been projected on canvas and then painted, following the lines of my childhood hand, then to become an exaggeration of themselves; blown up with a bubble-gum color palette, like toys hanging on the wall.

Acrylic paint and acrylic inc on canvas, ply wood frame

Acrylic paint and acrylic inc on canvas, 1.8mm MDF wood frame




Speaking in Gunk
A stain left by some passer by, a blob of paint, a scratch left to signal presence, when do these different marks stop being meaningless and start to constitute information? How do you place yourself in the chaos of time? What is valuable information and what is a discarded remnant? When does a simple trace of existence or an accidental trace transition into something culturally or historically important?
This installation explores layers of marks made by different entities, or imaginary entities, forming a diagram of the archaeology of my own life and the world at large.
They equate my life with a transhistorical visual language to simultaneously place myself inside and outside of history and my own time. The uncovered artifacts of a constructed alternate history where made up mysterious pasts and my silly existence live side by side.
Speculative excavations and collections form a timeline of what might have been and still might be. Monolithic testaments to not knowing poured onto the old familiar rectangle.
Primal traces of presence, some seemingly holding indecipherable forgotten knowledge, some being discarded pieces of nonsense, placed in a non hierarchical mass of paint, collected and ritualistically displayed with a primal urgency.
The walls of paint, emulating cave walls, computer screens and everything in between, full of dirt as well as gems, are obsessively trying to be nothing and everything at once.




A stain left by some passer by, a blob of paint, a scratch left to signal presence, when do these different marks stop being meaningless and start to constitute information? How do you place yourself in the chaos of time? What is valuable information and what is a discarded remnant? When does a simple trace of existence or an accidental trace transition into something culturally or historically important?

This installation explores layers of marks made by different entities, or imaginary entities, forming a diagram of the archaeology of my own life and the world at large.

They equate my life with a transhistorical visual language to simultaneously place myself inside and outside of history and my own time. The uncovered artifacts of a constructed alternate history where made up mysterious pasts and my silly existence live side by side.

Speculative excavations and collections form a timeline of what might have been and still might be. Monolithic testaments to not knowing poured onto the old familiar rectangle.

Primal traces of presence, some seemingly holding indecipherable forgotten knowledge, some being discarded pieces of nonsense, placed in a non hierarchical mass of paint, collected and ritualistically displayed with a primal urgency.

The walls of paint, emulating cave walls, computer screens and everything in between, full of dirt as well as gems, are obsessively trying to be nothing and everything at once.



Michel Heen (1982)
A little bit of truth here, a little bit of truth there …
Installation with sound (2020)


Table, chairs, a full ashtray and the intruding voice of two men asking questions transports the viewer into an installation with a cinematographic and theatrical connotation. The installation is situated in a basement on -2 inside a storage cage.
By walking around or sitting on one of the chairs near the table the installation unfolds in a distorted scene with a double take, reflecting upon collective memories and social- and power structures.
Michel Heen worked as a (forensic) investigator for a long time. His art practice is characterized by a sculptural approach combined with a forensic view. Frequently his work takes banal and tragicomical elements. In his work you can regularly find small details that only will be observed by a viewer with a sharp eye, the eye of an investigator.

A little bit of truth here, a little bit of truth there …

Table, chairs, a full ashtray and the intruding voice of two men asking questions transports the viewer into an installation with a cinematographic and theatrical connotation. The installation is situated in a basement on -2 inside a storage cage.

By walking around or sitting on one of the chairs near the table the installation unfolds in a distorted scene with a double take, reflecting upon collective memories and social- and power structures.

Michel Heen worked as a (forensic) investigator for a long time. His art practice is characterized by a sculptural approach combined with a forensic view. Frequently his work takes banal and tragicomical elements. In his work you can regularly find small details that only will be observed by a viewer with a sharp eye, the eye of an investigator.



You must have licked it as a child

The story of I. is both a play on words as it is a play on reality. It is an attempt to present a protagonist who has stepped out of existing structures, orders and definitions. She chose to live in a constant stage of metamorphosis, occupied by the demands of her body and the surrounding environment which remains limited to what is referred to as ‘a room of her own.’ She listens, observes, at times glancing back into the past which to her is no longer in the past as all she knows is the present moment. She lives within me as much as I live within her. Perhaps you will find a piece of her within you too.

For a more comfortable reading of the work a small meaning guide is provided:

Fishing – being up to something; daydreaming; planning.

Dirt – soil; dust; residue of thought.

Fishes – friends; companions; partners; active listeners.

Birds – sins, critters that know all and are always watching.

Work – making bread; making something that nourishes the Other.

Feel free to follow or just make your own meanings.

To read the full biography:
http://natalianikoniuk.kabkfinearts.nl/index.php/i-biography/ 




The story of I. is both a play on words as it is a play on reality. It is an attempt to present a protagonist who has stepped out of existing structures, orders and definitions. She chose to live in a constant stage of metamorphosis, occupied by the demands of her body and the surrounding environment which remains limited to what is referred to as ‘a room of her own.’ She listens, observes, at times glancing back into the past which to her is no longer in the past as all she knows is the present moment. She lives within me as much as I live within her. Perhaps you will find a piece of her within you too.

For a more comfortable reading of the work a small meaning guide is provided:

Fishing – being up to something; daydreaming; planning.

Fishes – friends; companions; partners; active listeners.

Birds – sins, critters that know all and are always watching.

Work – making bread; making something that nourishes the Other.

Feel free to follow or just make your own meanings.

http://natalianikoniuk.kabkfinearts.nl/index.php/i-biography/ 




I just waited for it to subside before doing anything else

Sometimes I don't know what to do with all this time.
I would try to do the things that I know I am capable of,
but sometimes I notice that too much is happening.
What exactly are we working towards?
I remember you asking me just before we parted.
I realised that maybe it actually matters
where we might end up.
“I just want to stay in this moment forever.”
I remember hearing this line somewhere,
maybe someone said it to me
or maybe I heard it in a film.
Actually, I was probably the one that said it.
I always remember this sentence
whenever I struggle to move on
or when I don't know how
or try
to bring things to an end.

I had a headache the other day.
Actually I have been getting the occasional headache
but why do my headaches last the whole day?
I couldn’t do anything,
which meant I didn’t do anything to remedy it.
I just waited
for it to subside before doing anything else.
I could’ve taken some painkillers
but I didn’t.
Only because I felt I have been taking them too often
and I heard it is bad for your liver.
I tried lying down on my sofa,
but the sunlight was shining too strongly
onto the sofa and into my eyes.
I was too stubborn to move,
so I laid there,
motionless,
hoping
that the sunlight would disappear.
It didn’t.
I went to my bed and tried taking a nap,
but the headache worsened already,
and it kept lingering in my head.
I couldn’t ignore it.
I couldn’t fall asleep.

All good things must come to an end.

And here I am trying to recall
what was good to even begin with?
Even if it was,
how long would it take for us to realise it has gone bad?
The more I think about it,
the more I realised that
I couldn’t just depend
on some sort of fate or luck
to bring me what I wanted.

Stop making these excuses.
Everything we did,
everything that we will do,
all of it contributes.
to every moment of our lives.

I just waited for it to subside before doing anything else Soundtrack






I just waited for it to subside before doing anything else

Sometimes I don't know what to do with all this time.

I would try to do the things that I know I am capable of,

but sometimes I notice that too much is happening.

I remember you asking me just before we parted.

I realised that maybe it actually matters

“I just want to stay in this moment forever.”

Actually, I was probably the one that said it.

Actually I have been getting the occasional headache

but why do my headaches last the whole day?

which meant I didn’t do anything to remedy it.

for it to subside before doing anything else.

Only because I felt I have been taking them too often

but the sunlight was shining too strongly

how long would it take for us to realise it has gone bad?

I just waited for it to subside before doing anything else Soundtrack