Ritual of occupation
The work of Klaas Kloosterboer is by nature direct. The decisions involved in the creative process are always easy to retrace in his canvasses. His interventions come over as rapid but limit themselves to at the most two or three actions, resulting in remarkably transparent pictures with no more than a foreground and a background. This, in combination with the physical expressive force that the work possesses, brings about an impression of high speed. As though the work has been made in a few minutes. At first sight, his latest work in particular could therefore be called Action painting, were it not for the fact that what counts for him first and foremost is the result. Yet the creative process that precedes this is an important moment and an interesting aspect in his work.
Klaas Kloosterboer's principle starting point is painting on canvas, with 'improvisation' apparently his chosen theme, for when it comes to means of expression his work arsenal offers an extremely wide range of possibilities. This makes his work broad in spirit and playful, with perhaps the disadvantage that it may sometimes be at the expense of accessibility, as though 'improvisation' and even 'experiment' were the aim. In reality, the key concepts in his work are visual constructions (painterly concepts) and a material concreteness as a form of abstraction (the image does not refer to reality).
He regards combining painting with industrial objects, such as plasterboard or cardboard boxes, as an interesting addition to the pure act of painting. In 'China Man' (2002), for example, no paintbrush is involved. The piece is constructed from a length of linen and wooden crates, with Chinese scribbles here and there. The reference is to an abstract archetype of man. Also the cerebral method of painting is aberrant: a brush with paint thrown out against the canvas until it is empty, in the style of a house painter or a blob of paint is aimed at a canvas and then thrown. "It is a way of undermining the codes and customs of painting in order to keep my mind fresh", says Kloosterboer. In each work the act of painting is a "ritual of occupation". "One thing takes place so that another can not".
The process of deciding to make a work is a dramatic moment for Kloosterboer, since after the creative act other possibilities are excluded. His conscience then plays tricks on him and this is particularly expressed - in his view - in the large sizes of his canvasses and objects. Because there were choices that were not given a chance, he seems in an almost absurd way to be wanting to admit guilt. Or, if a decision has to be made anyway, then the outside world (and the work) will know that he has 'made his hands dirty'. Is this guilty feeling to be seen in the work? I don't think so, or it would indeed have to be traced back to his sometimes brusque approach. And it might also explain his surprisingly extensive arsenal of work, which could be serving as an overtaking manoeuvre and as a sort of redress for the other possibilities set aside.
Doubt is another of Kloosterboer's psychological motives, stemming from the many possibilities there are to make a work. Doubt is both an instrument, a positive mental motor, as well as an Evil that he has to ward off during the creative process by working large and fast for example. Choosing the one at the expense of another that is therefore not given a chance, is elaborated in yet another way. Since the late Eighties a graphic contrast has always been present in his work, as though this is the only way a decision can achieve its form. Prior to that time, the painterly representation in Kloosterboer's work was in any case already closely connected with forms of construction. Then the composition of the picture was already distinctly decisive and short-winded. Can this doubt be seen in his work? No, no more so than is the case with his 'guilt feeling', but here too it can be an explanation, as a sort of counter-reaction, for his frequent use of colour- and above all material-contrasts.
While the work of Kloosterboer tends not to give the impression of high speed, but more shows contrasting patterns and concepts of work in the form of orientations, it is the disarming simplicity of the work that appeals before anything else. The hard transitions in the form of, for example, stitched dots with gloss paint or crumpled balls of linen attached to crates, are comparable with the approach that one sees in Hard Edge paintings. In both cases there is no reference to the surface as illusion and as a window onto reality. Form, mass and colour, as in the work of Elsworth Kelly, were the instruments for achieving as neutral a result as possible, to the extent, of course, that such a thing is possible with colour. The non-hierarchical contrast 1 between areas is played out in Kloosterboer's work in the foreground and background. The background has the same value as the foreground and the tension arises, in his case, not in the breadth but in the depth of the picture plane. In order to attain a considerable degree of detachment the Hard Edge painters used spray paints and with Kelly even reality - nature - was a source of inspiration. Not quite so detached therefore. In the light of this it is tempting to establish a relationship in Kloosterboer's work between his high-pressure spray paintings and his introspective sources of inspiration like guilt and doubt.
The high-pressure spray paintings seem to contradict the graphic severity that is constantly to be found in the work. Klaas Kloosterboer has said that the soft transitions of the sprayed clouds of paint are expressive of doubt. Almost as though it’s a question of a personal symbolism stemming from the artist's position vis à vis the psychology of viewing, comparable with his urge to make the work large once an irrevocable decision has been taken. Of course it is highly dangerous to talk about an artist's inner motivations in relation to his work. And yet I think that such a discussion can help clarify the artist's attitude and the meanings of the work. The graphic hardness - or what I have elsewhere called the 'concrete haptic' 2 - has more to do in his case with the decision to press the button of a high-pressure paint spray briefly and powerfully, so that an area becomes occupied. This is not so different from throwing a blob of paint onto a canvas, for example. In both cases the action can be recognised afterwards - because of the great simplicity of the composition - in the work. I think that he is still correct when he says, as he once expressed it in an interview, "The strange thing is, that a work becomes better when I don't think about it. I just have to do it. Sometimes it takes five minutes, sometimes five weeks. I'm looking for a way of working where I don't design, but where I still find a form, as in the diagonal paintings. The form is the consequence. It’s not a question of the action itself, but what that action can bring about. What I'd most like to do is make a painting like a whitewashed window. I find that so tremendously beautiful, since that whitewash doesn’t represent any ambition. The paint on the window takes away the view, while paint on a canvas, normally speaking, precisely creates an image. It produces an enormous presence because there are no intentions, because it’s not art. You can see the same thing on an industrial estate where there are piles of materials lying around. Such a presence can be more impressive than any exhibition whatsoever". 3
His concrete approach, involving throwing paint, drawing lines and making balls, brings his work close to the artists of the Dutch Zero movement, who saw the works themselves as part of existing reality and not so much as a derivative of it, as with Ellsworth Kelly. It is not surprising that Kloosterboer said in the early Nineties, "Most of all I like to paint like a house painter". 4
In Klaas Kloosterboer's recent work an interesting development can be seen, which plays itself out on the level of the "ritual of occupation", right through to the mind of the viewer. It is the 'haptic' in an ideal sense. 5
A St. Andrew's cross, inscribed in pencil onto a virgin canvas, has been pelted by the artist with a blob of oil paint as though a target were being aimed at. Aiming also comes into play in his most recent photo work, 'Making space at Schiphol Airport' (2002), which shows a KLM urinal with a bluebottle cast into the ceramic at which men can aim while urinating. It's a question of occupying space, whereby space is literally made, comparable with what concerns Kloosterboer in general in his work. 6 The photo work is about urinating as a primal act, where the concrete action itself is not visible. You don't get to see someone trying to piss away the bluebottle in the urinal, like the action of a painter. That is an image that is made by the viewer, I think, so it is a question of the artist 'occupying' a place in the viewer's mind. In another new work a vertical stripe is drawn in pencil and dabs of oil paint are thrown just onto the right side of the stripe. The canvas looks extremely unfinished, thereby evoking unpleasant feelings of mistake and nonchalance, but basically it is not the artist but the spectator with his aesthetic expectations and codes of viewing who is shown up.
In seeing Klaas Kloosterboer's canvasses the viewer essentially makes a throw of his own. A need and an urge to finish the work is created. In terms of the psychology of viewing he shifts his own ritual of occupation onto another, namely the spectator, who thus, with an 'occupation' of his own, becomes an accomplice and imbues the art with life.
1) The two dimensions can indeed be called hierarchical in a chronological sense, since in the process of making the work a background is obviously applied first, followed by the foreground. There is a succession of actions that take place over time, which remains visible in the result.
2) The concrete haptic aspect refers to art is that has such a clear composition that we can speak of an abstract, graphic and simple contrast, and where the choice of material stimulates the sense of touch to such an extent that a graphic contrast is synchronous with the desire to touch the picture.
3) 'De schoonheid van een witgekalkt raam', interview by M. Küng, MM nr 4, 1993, p. 43
4) Idem, p. 43
5) The ideal haptic aspect refers to works of art whose concept is remarkably simple and whose form of expression is likewise simple, whether it be realistic, conceptual or abstract. Klaas Kloosterboer's recent photo work, 'Making space at Schiphol Airport', for example, has a high degree of ideal 'haptism' since the bluebottle not only forms a graphic contrast with the ceramic bowl but also because the fly possesses a high measure of 'objectness'. The sense of touch is ideally stimulated by the synchronicity of a hard contrast and a psychological objectivisation (of the fly in this case). In short, it is a question of experiences that enhance each other.
6) Compared with the work of Christopher Wool, who has recently also been throwing paint onto his canvasses (using silkscreen), Kloosterboer's work is made swiftly and at full tilt, with a complete lack of deliberate compositions. In contrast to Wool, the aesthetic result in his case results purely from carrying out a plan of action, which makes one wonder whether the result is indeed so aesthetic.
Kees van Gelder, Amsterdam 2002
published in Ritueel van bezetting / Ritual of Occupation, Kees van Gelder with artist's contribution in pencil and photo on cover
ISBN 90-70510-08-3
translation: Michael Gibbs
edition: 100
copyright Galerie Van Gelder / The Bifrons Publisher, Amsterdam 2002
Klaas Kloosterboer's principle starting point is painting on canvas, with 'improvisation' apparently his chosen theme, for when it comes to means of expression his work arsenal offers an extremely wide range of possibilities. This makes his work broad in spirit and playful, with perhaps the disadvantage that it may sometimes be at the expense of accessibility, as though 'improvisation' and even 'experiment' were the aim. In reality, the key concepts in his work are visual constructions (painterly concepts) and a material concreteness as a form of abstraction (the image does not refer to reality).
He regards combining painting with industrial objects, such as plasterboard or cardboard boxes, as an interesting addition to the pure act of painting. In 'China Man' (2002), for example, no paintbrush is involved. The piece is constructed from a length of linen and wooden crates, with Chinese scribbles here and there. The reference is to an abstract archetype of man. Also the cerebral method of painting is aberrant: a brush with paint thrown out against the canvas until it is empty, in the style of a house painter or a blob of paint is aimed at a canvas and then thrown. "It is a way of undermining the codes and customs of painting in order to keep my mind fresh", says Kloosterboer. In each work the act of painting is a "ritual of occupation". "One thing takes place so that another can not".
The process of deciding to make a work is a dramatic moment for Kloosterboer, since after the creative act other possibilities are excluded. His conscience then plays tricks on him and this is particularly expressed - in his view - in the large sizes of his canvasses and objects. Because there were choices that were not given a chance, he seems in an almost absurd way to be wanting to admit guilt. Or, if a decision has to be made anyway, then the outside world (and the work) will know that he has 'made his hands dirty'. Is this guilty feeling to be seen in the work? I don't think so, or it would indeed have to be traced back to his sometimes brusque approach. And it might also explain his surprisingly extensive arsenal of work, which could be serving as an overtaking manoeuvre and as a sort of redress for the other possibilities set aside.
Doubt is another of Kloosterboer's psychological motives, stemming from the many possibilities there are to make a work. Doubt is both an instrument, a positive mental motor, as well as an Evil that he has to ward off during the creative process by working large and fast for example. Choosing the one at the expense of another that is therefore not given a chance, is elaborated in yet another way. Since the late Eighties a graphic contrast has always been present in his work, as though this is the only way a decision can achieve its form. Prior to that time, the painterly representation in Kloosterboer's work was in any case already closely connected with forms of construction. Then the composition of the picture was already distinctly decisive and short-winded. Can this doubt be seen in his work? No, no more so than is the case with his 'guilt feeling', but here too it can be an explanation, as a sort of counter-reaction, for his frequent use of colour- and above all material-contrasts.
While the work of Kloosterboer tends not to give the impression of high speed, but more shows contrasting patterns and concepts of work in the form of orientations, it is the disarming simplicity of the work that appeals before anything else. The hard transitions in the form of, for example, stitched dots with gloss paint or crumpled balls of linen attached to crates, are comparable with the approach that one sees in Hard Edge paintings. In both cases there is no reference to the surface as illusion and as a window onto reality. Form, mass and colour, as in the work of Elsworth Kelly, were the instruments for achieving as neutral a result as possible, to the extent, of course, that such a thing is possible with colour. The non-hierarchical contrast 1 between areas is played out in Kloosterboer's work in the foreground and background. The background has the same value as the foreground and the tension arises, in his case, not in the breadth but in the depth of the picture plane. In order to attain a considerable degree of detachment the Hard Edge painters used spray paints and with Kelly even reality - nature - was a source of inspiration. Not quite so detached therefore. In the light of this it is tempting to establish a relationship in Kloosterboer's work between his high-pressure spray paintings and his introspective sources of inspiration like guilt and doubt.
The high-pressure spray paintings seem to contradict the graphic severity that is constantly to be found in the work. Klaas Kloosterboer has said that the soft transitions of the sprayed clouds of paint are expressive of doubt. Almost as though it’s a question of a personal symbolism stemming from the artist's position vis à vis the psychology of viewing, comparable with his urge to make the work large once an irrevocable decision has been taken. Of course it is highly dangerous to talk about an artist's inner motivations in relation to his work. And yet I think that such a discussion can help clarify the artist's attitude and the meanings of the work. The graphic hardness - or what I have elsewhere called the 'concrete haptic' 2 - has more to do in his case with the decision to press the button of a high-pressure paint spray briefly and powerfully, so that an area becomes occupied. This is not so different from throwing a blob of paint onto a canvas, for example. In both cases the action can be recognised afterwards - because of the great simplicity of the composition - in the work. I think that he is still correct when he says, as he once expressed it in an interview, "The strange thing is, that a work becomes better when I don't think about it. I just have to do it. Sometimes it takes five minutes, sometimes five weeks. I'm looking for a way of working where I don't design, but where I still find a form, as in the diagonal paintings. The form is the consequence. It’s not a question of the action itself, but what that action can bring about. What I'd most like to do is make a painting like a whitewashed window. I find that so tremendously beautiful, since that whitewash doesn’t represent any ambition. The paint on the window takes away the view, while paint on a canvas, normally speaking, precisely creates an image. It produces an enormous presence because there are no intentions, because it’s not art. You can see the same thing on an industrial estate where there are piles of materials lying around. Such a presence can be more impressive than any exhibition whatsoever". 3
His concrete approach, involving throwing paint, drawing lines and making balls, brings his work close to the artists of the Dutch Zero movement, who saw the works themselves as part of existing reality and not so much as a derivative of it, as with Ellsworth Kelly. It is not surprising that Kloosterboer said in the early Nineties, "Most of all I like to paint like a house painter". 4
In Klaas Kloosterboer's recent work an interesting development can be seen, which plays itself out on the level of the "ritual of occupation", right through to the mind of the viewer. It is the 'haptic' in an ideal sense. 5
A St. Andrew's cross, inscribed in pencil onto a virgin canvas, has been pelted by the artist with a blob of oil paint as though a target were being aimed at. Aiming also comes into play in his most recent photo work, 'Making space at Schiphol Airport' (2002), which shows a KLM urinal with a bluebottle cast into the ceramic at which men can aim while urinating. It's a question of occupying space, whereby space is literally made, comparable with what concerns Kloosterboer in general in his work. 6 The photo work is about urinating as a primal act, where the concrete action itself is not visible. You don't get to see someone trying to piss away the bluebottle in the urinal, like the action of a painter. That is an image that is made by the viewer, I think, so it is a question of the artist 'occupying' a place in the viewer's mind. In another new work a vertical stripe is drawn in pencil and dabs of oil paint are thrown just onto the right side of the stripe. The canvas looks extremely unfinished, thereby evoking unpleasant feelings of mistake and nonchalance, but basically it is not the artist but the spectator with his aesthetic expectations and codes of viewing who is shown up.
In seeing Klaas Kloosterboer's canvasses the viewer essentially makes a throw of his own. A need and an urge to finish the work is created. In terms of the psychology of viewing he shifts his own ritual of occupation onto another, namely the spectator, who thus, with an 'occupation' of his own, becomes an accomplice and imbues the art with life.
1) The two dimensions can indeed be called hierarchical in a chronological sense, since in the process of making the work a background is obviously applied first, followed by the foreground. There is a succession of actions that take place over time, which remains visible in the result.
2) The concrete haptic aspect refers to art is that has such a clear composition that we can speak of an abstract, graphic and simple contrast, and where the choice of material stimulates the sense of touch to such an extent that a graphic contrast is synchronous with the desire to touch the picture.
3) 'De schoonheid van een witgekalkt raam', interview by M. Küng, MM nr 4, 1993, p. 43
4) Idem, p. 43
5) The ideal haptic aspect refers to works of art whose concept is remarkably simple and whose form of expression is likewise simple, whether it be realistic, conceptual or abstract. Klaas Kloosterboer's recent photo work, 'Making space at Schiphol Airport', for example, has a high degree of ideal 'haptism' since the bluebottle not only forms a graphic contrast with the ceramic bowl but also because the fly possesses a high measure of 'objectness'. The sense of touch is ideally stimulated by the synchronicity of a hard contrast and a psychological objectivisation (of the fly in this case). In short, it is a question of experiences that enhance each other.
6) Compared with the work of Christopher Wool, who has recently also been throwing paint onto his canvasses (using silkscreen), Kloosterboer's work is made swiftly and at full tilt, with a complete lack of deliberate compositions. In contrast to Wool, the aesthetic result in his case results purely from carrying out a plan of action, which makes one wonder whether the result is indeed so aesthetic.
Kees van Gelder, Amsterdam 2002
published in Ritueel van bezetting / Ritual of Occupation, Kees van Gelder with artist's contribution in pencil and photo on cover
ISBN 90-70510-08-3
translation: Michael Gibbs
edition: 100
copyright Galerie Van Gelder / The Bifrons Publisher, Amsterdam 2002
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