The Unibrow Interview: Lotte Keijzer

“Life is difficult to navigate.” I read the first line of Lotte Keijzer’s press release for her new solo show at Marian Cramer Projects in Amsterdam, I’m Doing My Best, Honey, and I could relate. It’s been a weird summer/year. I was wondering how we were going to come out of it all, how the fall would approach and if this sort of tension and uncertainty would wane. And I think I was happy to see that Lotte was thinking about and painting about this same subject, the peculiar and difficult nature of modern life and the exhaustion of trying to keep up.

We spoke with Lotte from her homebase of Haarlem, The Netherlands to get an understanding of where the work was coming from. The works are of subjects we are all familiar with; seagulls in the sky, lighthouses at the sea, gardening, all composed and considered as either a respite of something that is being almost battered by the elements. The gulls have to fly against the gust of wind, the lighthouse withstands the ever-present crash of waves. There is a story of resiliency in these bright-colored paintings. How much can we handle, they seem to say. And I wanted to know more…

EP: First, how was your summer. This felt like a really long summer, sort of a drag, but you seemed really productive. How was it for you?

LK: Well, I think this is a great example of social media giving the wrong impression of what my life actually looks like. I didn't do any work this summer. I was out of my studio for more than a month, completely relaxing, having a great time with my family and friends, and trying to do as little as possible. I finished all the works for the show before and already handed them to the gallery, so I had zero worries. I had plenty of time to make the works, and I like to be on time (if possible).

EP: Talk to me about the new work, how did the series start? How did it evolve once you got going?

LK: It started with this feeling of doubt about my role in today's world. I was thinking about how I would like to do something about some things, but also how all the world problems are on top of your own personal stuff, and how that can feel overwhelming or impossible at times. At least for me. So when I tried to visualize this idea of trying to help, tending to something, the first thing I thought of was a garden and having actual tools to work with it. Helping something grow, cleaning it up, or messing it up. I liked the idea of having actual tools that help you sort life out, so I took that very literally and started with painting the garden tools. I wasn't making these works with the solo show in mind, I just took the visuals that came to me and went with it. 

But at a certain point, I felt I did all I wanted about that, and swerved into a new direction, which is kinda where the bird pieces came in. I needed more "air," or space, in the paintings. My husband took a picture of this flock of seagulls on the ferry to Texel, the island where I was born. And when I saw it, I knew I wanted to do something with it. They have shitted on me plenty of times or robbed me a couple of times of my food, but I love seeing them soar. And so that took me in a different direction. For me, seagulls are a great symbol of nuance and freedom in one, and in that way, a symbol of how life can stretch you.

EP: There seems to be a few dichotomies going on here, like this challenge of freedom and being trapped, and I think that goes back to my sort of feeling of how things seems to be a slight drag right now. Did you feel that in making the work?

LK: You are completely right. That's quite literally how I felt at times about making art (and life) this year. I realized I tend to set myself up to make something, a whole series, but I can also get bored of the plan I made myself. Because of my other life experiences, I felt like I couldn't allow myself to get away from the initial path I decided to take.

For example, as I mentioned, at one point I felt a bit trapped by the whole garden/tools thing. But with time, I realized I can do whatever I want because I'm the artist, and I can use the unlimited freedom that comes with that.
I'm not sure what you mean by "how things seem to be a slight drag right now." If you mean the polarization of the world, climate issues, wealth distribution, etc., and how heavy that feels day to day, I'm with you. But I feel like it helps me focus on the smaller things in life, like the people, community, and things around me. And that's what I try to show in my paintings, too.

EP: Do you see a connection with the new work and the last show you had in 2022 at Marian Cramer Projects? Is there a through line that you are seeing

LK: Definitely. All the work I make always has to do with stuff I'm either going through at that moment, or that has happened to me in the past. But funnily enough, there's even more of a connection between the show from 2022 and this one. It's all about the same overall feeling of trying but messing up, doing your best but failing, or the result being different than expected. The one in 2022 focused on little moments in my life (Shituations), and this show is more general, universal, or perhaps "mature." It has grown into a broader spectrum of feelings or a more symbolic than literal way of showing them.

EP: What is one piece of art you have seen recently, film, painting, piece of music, that made you go back to the studio and get to work?

LK: I really love Robin F. Williams' work. The way they use textures, brushstrokes, patterns, color use… pretty much everything they make makes me feel like pushing myself more and more. Robin makes it look easy, which is an art in itself.