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At the end of March, Rotterdam briefly turns into an exciting hub for photography. Across three locations, visitors can experience just how broad and dynamic the medium is today: with Unseen Photo as part of Art Rotterdam, the Unseen Book Market in the newly reopened Nederlands Fotomuseum and the photography festival Rotterdam Photo at Deliplein. Together, they form an engaging route across three distinct contexts, appealing to everyone interested in photography, from collectors and professionals to curious visitors.
Within Art Rotterdam (27 to 29 March), Unseen Photo presents an international programme featuring both established names and upcoming talent. Photography is fully integrated into the fair and forms part of the wider presentation spanning no less than 14,000 m² at Rotterdam Ahoy. Alongside the Main Section and the Solo/Duo programme, Unseen Photo includes several curated sections. Visitors come across new work by contemporary photographers in the New Photography section. In the Encounters section, curator Domenico de Chirico explores how photography can intersect with other disciplines. In The Past Present, photography historian Hedy van Erp focuses on analogue photography up to the year 2000, with particular attention to rediscovered archives and found images that acquire new meanings through contemporary interventions.
Running parallel to the fair, the Unseen Book Market takes place at the recently reopened Nederlands Fotomuseum in Pakhuis Santos. From 26 to 29 March, 35 publishers will present a wide range of photo books and publications here. During these days, the ground floor of the museum will become a meeting place for publishers, artists and lovers of the photo book. Entry to the book market is free. Please note that it may be busy and that a queue may form. If you would also like to visit the exhibitions at the Nederlands Fotomuseum, a regular museum ticket is required.
At the same time, Rotterdam Photo takes place at Deliplein in Katendrecht from 25 to 29 March. This international photography festival presents more than thirty photographers from around the world in an informal setting: an open container village. The 2026 edition, ‘Echoes of Silence – War in the Artist’s Soul’, explores how conflict and tension resonate within personal narratives, memory and migration. Rather than documenting violence directly, the focus lies on the inner reverberations of conflict: photography as a reflection on what war and unrest leave behind in the individual. As part of the programme, visitors will also encounter a series of curated exhibitions featuring artists such as Caroline Monnet (Canada), Diego Moreno (Mexico/Switzerland), Hashim Nasr (Sudan/Egypt) and Otto Snoek (Rotterdam). Rotterdam Photo also offers a programme of Photo Talks, panel discussions, live music and opportunities to meet the artists.
Unseen Photo at Art Rotterdam
Friday 27 March – Sunday 29 March: 11.00 – 19.00
Address: Rotterdam Ahoy, Ahoyweg 10, Rotterdam
Tickets: €22.50 (with discounts for students, an off-peak ticket for €16.50 and free entry for children up to 12)
Unseen Book Market at the Nederlands Fotomuseum
Thursday 26 March: 13.00 – 21.00 (the Nederlands Fotomuseum opens at 11.00)
Friday 27 March – Sunday 29 March: 11.00 – 17.00
Address: Pakhuis Santos, Brede Hilledijk 95, Rotterdam
Tickets: €17.50 (with discounts for, among others, CJP cardholders and free entry for holders of, among others, a Museumkaart)
Rotterdam Photo
Wednesday 25 March: 18.00 – 22.00
Thursday 26 March: 11.00 – 18.00
Friday 27 March: 11.00 – 18.00
Saturday 28 March: 11.00 – 20.00
Sunday 29 March: 11.00 – 18.00
Address: Deliplein, Rotterdam
Tickets: €6.50 (with discounts for, among others, Rotterdampas holders and groups)
Once again, visitors to Art Rotterdam can count on an inspiring and freely accessible Talks programme. Reflections 2026 includes a number of engaging artist talks, Q&As and lectures on current topics, presented by artists, curators, museum directors and other experts from the artistic field.
| Friday 11.15 – 12.30 BK Informatie | ‘Het kan ook anders’ | Artist Talk A conversation about tipping points in the projecessional practice of visual artists | *Dutch spoken Art historian Meta Knol will be in conversation with podcaster and philosopher Esther Didden about our podcast about tipping points in the professional practice of visual artists. Two visual artists will be joining to discuss tipping points in their careers; 2025 Prix de Rome winner Kevin Osepa and Linda Molenaar. What challenges did they face, and how did they cope? What stands out to us in the podcast series? Do we see underlying patterns, or not? What questions does this raise about the state of artistic practice in the Netherlands? And should we perhaps look at it differently ourselves? Please note: subscription & tickets: bkinformatie.nl/register |
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| Friday 14.00 – 14.30 Rijksakademie | artist Guy Woueté and newly appointed director of the Rijksakademie Laurence Rassel in conversation | *English spoken Artist Guy Woueté engages in conversation with Laurence Rassel, the newly appointed director of the Rijksakademie, about working within hybrid institutions across disciplines and continents. Woueté was a resident at the Rijksakademie (2009–2010) and later an advisor. They previously worked together at erg (école de recherche graphique) in Brussels, where Rassel was director for ten years and Woueté is currently a teacher. A thoughtful exchange on the importance of artistic development and international exchange. |
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| Friday 15.00 – 15.30 Amidst Cries from the Rubble: Art of Loss and Resilience Lecture by Dr Laura Mueller, Deputy Director and Curator Museum of International Folk Art, Santa Fe, New Mexico, USA | *English spoken This lecture explores the curatorial development of Amidst Cries from the Rubble: Art of Loss and Resilience from Ukraine and the commissioning of Ukrainian photographer Marta Syrko’s series Wrapping Art—Art of Salvation. It considers how museums and curators have an opportunity to collaborate with contemporary artists during conflict to document cultural preservation, while the gravity of the subject matter lends profound depth and urgency to artworks that stand as powerful acts of witness, resilience, and cultural survival. |
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| Friday 16.00 – 16.45 Artist Start – Panel discussion on a research into the career development of artists who received an Artist Start grant by the Mondriaan Fund | *Dutch spoken HKU and HTH Research conducted research commissioned by the Mondriaan Fund into the career development of artists who received an Artist Start grant, or a predecessor thereof, at the beginning of their artistic careers. The research results will be presented to a broad audience, with active involvement of students. |
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| Friday 17.00 – 18.00 Mondriaan Fund Get a Grant event – The Prospects Edition Artist Talk and Subsidy information | *English spoken When can you apply for a grant and how does the process work? Especially for students and emerging artists, the Mondriaan Fund is organising the Get a Grant event, an information session on grant opportunities for starting visual artists. On Friday 27 March (5–6 pm), a staff member will explain the Artist Start grant and artist Jochem van den Wijngaard will share his experience with applying. There will also be time for questions and practical tips. You can register here. |
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| Saturday 12.00 – 12.45 Talk show Hugo Borst & Wilfried de Jong Guests: Çiğdem Yüksel, Katinka Lampe, Anton Corbijn en Wim Pijbes | *Dutch spoken Hugo Borst and Wilfried de Jong have a lot in common. Rotterdam, radio & television, writing, journalism. They also differ. Wilfried is an actor, Hugo a gallery owner. Wilfried is the Polaroid man, Hugo collects art. Curiosity and humor drive this occasional duo. Especially for Art Rotterdam/Unseen Photo, they compose a special talk show. Guests: Çiğdem Yüksel, visual artist and photographer, Katinka Lampe, visual artist, Anton Corbijn, artist/photographer and film director and Wim Pijbes, art historian, director of Stichting Droom en Daad, a private cultural fund that invests in culture in Rotterdam. |
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| Saturday 13.00 – 13.30 Museumtijdschrift presents: a live-interview with Fiona Lutjenhuis | *Dutch spoken An interview with artist Fiona Lutjenhuis by Jeroen Junte, editor-in-chief of Museumtijdschrift, the biggest art magazine of the Netherlands. Lutjenhuis is a finalist for the Prix de Rome 2026 and had a solo exhibition at the Noordbrabants Museum in 2025. From 2022 to 2024, she was a resident at the Rijksakademie van Beeldende Kunsten. During Art Rotterdam, the artist is represented by gallery Fleur & Wouter, on show at New Art Section booth K25 and Sculpture Park section. |
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| Saturday 14.00 – 14.30 Rijksakademie | Artist Talk / Q&A Marieke Zwart and artist Dineke Blom in conversation | *Dutch spoken Artist and Rijksakademie alum Marieke Zwart and artist Dineke Blom engage in conversation about Zwart’s new book ‘she saw i saw’, which explores the visibility of maternity care in the Bijlmermeer neighbourhood of Amsterdam. They discuss the search for balance between distance and proximity – on paper and beyond. How does social practice relate to artistic considerations? The conversation will be moderated by Evita de Roode. |
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| Saturday 15.00 – 15.20 AVROTROS’ MUZE presents: De Muzen van Morgen I Michelle Piergoelam Artist Talk / Q&A | *Dutch spoken Curator and art journalist Lieneke Hulsthof in converstation with a promising Dutch artist. In this edition, she talks with art photographer Michelle Piergoelam about how she brings hidden histories and cultural traditions to life in her work. |
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| Saturday 15.30 – 15.50 AVROTROS’ MUZE presents: De Muzen van Morgen II Noa Zuidervaart Artist Talk / Q&A | *Dutch spoken Curator and art journalist Lieneke Hulsthof in converstation with a promising Dutch artist. In this edition, she talks with artist Noa Zuidervaart about how he explores complex issues in his work and translates them into drawings, sculptures, and found objects that come together in layered installations. |
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| Saturday 16.30 – 17.00 The Role of Women Artists in the Art World! | Conversation / Q&A Carolina Alfonso, Artist and Moderator in conversation with Alejandra Castro Rioseco, Founder/Executive Director, MIA ART Collection | *English spoken The importance of raising awareness about gender equality in art is fundamental. Professional and private institutions must collaborate in creating spaces not only for exhibitions but also for reflection that unite the perspectives of civil society and academic institutions with those of artists, curators, collectors, and galleries. The role of MIA ART Collection is to invest in and create visibility for women artists in the art world, creating networks and channels of support and assistance for women professionals in the arts. |
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| Sunday 12.00 – 12.30 South Forward – DHB Art Space The City Through Us | Artist Talk / Q&A | *English spoken Join curator Jeanthalou Haynes and the artists of DHB Art Space – South Forward for an interactive artist talk on art, neighbourhood knowledge and sustainability in Rotterdam South. In every city, people and local initiatives contribute to the future of their neighbourhoods, often beyond the view of the wider public. Through stories and shared material samples from the artworks, the audience is invited to discover how artists make these stories visible and how art rooted in the city can contribute to a more sustainable future.Presentation South Forward on view at DHB Art Space booth J 04. |
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| Sunday 13.00 – 14.00 From Carbon Footprint to Collective Action: Galleries, Fairs, and Artists in a Warming World | Lecture and subsequently 13.30: Panel discussion | *English spoken As the climate crisis intensifies, the art world has both the opportunity and the responsibility to reduce its carbon footprint. In this session, organized by the Dutch Gallery Association, the Gallery Climate Coalition will present its global initiatives, outlining practical strategies for carbon reduction across exhibitions, shipping, travel, and production. In the subsequent panel discussion 13.30 – 14.00, Lula Rappoport, Gallery Climate Coalition, Will Korner, TEFAF, Head of Fairs, artist Erik van Lieshout, gallerist Jaring Dürst Britt, and Geert van der Meulen, Dutch Gallery Association, will discuss how collective responsibility can lead to measurable impact and sustainable, structural change within the Dutch art sector. |
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| Sunday 15.00 – 15.20 uur AVROTROS’ MUZE presents: De Muzen van Morgen III Dakota Magdalena Mokhammad Artist Talk / Q&A | *Dutch spoken Curator and art journalist Lieneke Hulsthof in converstation with a promising Dutch artist. In this edition, she talks with artist Dakota Magdalena Mokhammad about her search for identity, spirituality, the body, and gender — and how these themes take shape in her tapestries and installations. |
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| Sunday 15.30 – 15.50 AVROTROS’ MUZE presents: De Muzen van Morgen IV Chris Nelck Artist Talk / Q&A | *Dutch spoken Curator and art journalist Lieneke Hulsthof in conversation with a promising Dutch artist. In this edition, she talks with artist Chris Nelck, whose diverse practice is characterized by humor and intellectual sharpness, and is informed by a trans and queer perspective. |
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| Sunday 17.00 – 18.00 Kunstinstituut Melly presents Suitcase Economy Informal Economy (Barter space) | *Dutch and English spoken Artist Riet Wijnen brings Suitcase Economy to the fair. By running this experimental canteen, she is developing a method to connect daily contexts in, among others, Limburg (NL), South Korea and South Africa through histories of preservation and fermentation. In relation to this interest, Riet invites visitors to bring homemade preserved goods, ingredients for culturally specific dishes, recipes, or money to exchange for Suitcase Economy staples, experimenting with collapsing economic models through negotiation. More information: kunstinstituutmelly.nl |
Saturday March 28, 12.00-12.45 u
Guests: Çiğdem Yüksel, Katinka Lampe, Anton Corbijn en Wim Pijbes | *Dutch spoken
Hugo Borst and Wilfried de Jong have a lot in common. Rotterdam, radio & television, writing, journalism. They also differ. Wilfried is an actor, Hugo a gallery owner. Wilfried is the Polaroid man, Hugo collects art. Curiosity and humor drive this occasional duo. Especially for Art Rotterdam/Unseen Photo, they compose a special talk show. Guests: Çiğdem Yüksel, visual artist and photographer, Katinka Lampe, visual artist, Anton Corbijn, artist/photographer and film director and Wim Pijbes, art historian, director of Stichting Droom en Daad, a private cultural fund that invests in culture in Rotterdam. Make sure you attent this show on time!
This year, the culinary corner of Art Rotterdam will once again be filled with the rugged French atmosphere of the Rotterdam institution Café Marseille. Since 2020, this restaurant has been defying the equally rugged Kruiskade, with Derk Jan Wooldrik and Kris de Leeuw at the helm. Together they are also known as the Double Trouble Horecagroep and have quite a few successes to their name. The combination of a punk ship’s cook and a club legend [De Leeuw was co-owner of the legendary club Bar] turned out to be a golden one. There is, for instance, the musical neighbourhood pub Bar Alaska, which nowadays sails the Rotterdam Stoofboot along the Maas, and the brewery Eurobrouwers, which recently started serving their beer in their own atmospheric Café de Wilde Mossel. The latter, by the way, is not far from the real gem – Marseille, of course!
Menu Café Marseille
For the menu, Wooldrik and head chef Jona Haile travelled to the city where it all began. For three days, they started their day with a refreshing swim, after which they could search with fresh eyes for the essence of this complex city. This resulted in a highly culturally diverse menu. Think Italian ‘nduja and stracciatella over the Ombrine Carpaccio and the North African flavour of Ras el Hanout in the mussels. Just like the city, the restaurant is a good neighbour and they try to collaborate as much as possible with local entrepreneurs in the area. This style is something Wooldrik is known for – his dishes have always been a blend of his memories as a ship’s cook and the port cities where he came ashore. He has written a cookbook about this, in which he takes you on a cruise along all these magnificent places, complete with the accompanying wild stories. Since their brief trip to the great city, Wooldrik and Haile have developed such a taste for it that they will soon be travelling back to the city, to join forces and write a book together.
The distinctive atmosphere of the restaurant comes into its own in the scale of Ahoy. This is thanks to the work of set builder and set dresser Ben Zuydwijk. He made his mark in the film world and won two Golden Calves, the most recent for Hardcore Never Dies (2023). ‘We had already worked with him before for a Basque pop-up restaurant at Station Bergweg. For that he designed a Basque punk bar, Bar Bilbao. He is someone with an unconventional outlook who thinks on his feet,’ says Wooldrik.
Wooldrik and De Leeuw are delighted to once again welcome the audience of Art Rotterdam / Unseen Photo. Come raise a glass of bubbles, enjoy a quick oyster or a warm lunch – see you there!
193 Gallery (Paris | Saint-Tropez | Venice) will present a solo installation by Thandiwe Muriu at Art Rotterdam. In her vivid “Camo” series, the Kenyan artist employs the renowned wax textile to make her subjects a canvas for reflection on identity, representation, and female empowerment.
Produced since 1876 in the Netherlands by the historic textile house, Vlisco, wax has been worn, shared, reinterpreted, and emotionally invested in by many generations across the African continent. Through everyday life – celebrations, rituals, family moments – it has become deeply embedded in social norms and practices, making it a widely accepted symbol of ‘Africanness’ despite its controversial history. For Muriu, the fabric emphasises the various ways in which the past continues to shape the present as she considers how women today can thrive – not in spite of their cultural legacies, but through them.
Vlisco developed its production by adapting colouring techniques from Javanese batik makers in the former Dutch East Indies. The prints were detached from their original symbolism and industrially produced in the Netherlands using a modified banknote printing machine, known as ‘La Javanaise’. African countries became the primary market for these fabrics. For the fair, 193 Gallery will incorporate original Vlisco textiles into the booth display bringing Muriu’s work into direct relation with the local and global histories embedded in the material, while anchoring the installation within Rotterdam’s role as an international trading city.
In 2024, 193 Gallery presented Muriu’s work in ‘Passengers in Transit’, a Collateral Event of the 60th Venice Biennale. This was followed by presentations at Museum Folkwang, Biennale della Fotografia Femminile, Musée de l’Homme, Museo Nacional de la Fotografía and a group exhibition curated by Pharrell Williams at Perrotin in Paris. This year, Muriu was selected for the KYOTOGRAPHIE International Photography Festival African Artist Residency Program.
This year marks the tenth edition of the NN Art Award. The annual incentive prize of €10,000 is awarded to a talented artist who completed their education in the Netherlands and presents work at Art Rotterdam (27–29 March at Rotterdam Ahoy). The professional jury nominated four artists: Fiona Lutjenhuis (Galerie Fleur & Wouter), Tina Farifteh (Gallery Vriend van Bavink), Mandy Franca (Night Café Gallery) and Kyra Nijskens (Prospects / Mondriaan Fonds). From 14 March to 25 May 2026, work by all nominees will be on view at Kunsthal Rotterdam.
The multidisciplinary practice of Tina Farifteh examines the ways in which power structures shape the everyday lives of ordinary people, and how the images and words we hear and see influence our thinking, our actions and our emotions. As a photographer, filmmaker and visual artist she does not seek ready-made answers, but rather images that compel viewers to confront complex and uncomfortable truths. In doing so, she primarily appeals to our shared humanity. Through her installations, films and photographic projects, Farifteh attempts to narrow the gap between abstract political debates and human experience. Her work addresses feelings of home and belonging, migration and identity, empathy and exclusion, as well as policy, discourse and image-making.
Farifteh was born in Tehran in 1982 and moved to the Netherlands at the age of thirteen. She studied Photography at the Royal Academy of Art in The Hague and completed a master’s degree at Erasmus University Rotterdam. Her graduation project “The Flood” (2021) immediately attracted wide attention. In this audiovisual installation, visitors are surrounded by three enormous projections of a churning sea while a synthetic voice reads out the names, locations and statistics of missing and drowned refugees. Fragments of political rhetoric about migration can also be heard. The work reveals how refugees are often discussed in political discourse: in suspicious, criminalising and dehumanising terms, frequently through metaphors of waves, streams or tsunamis, words that are far from innocent because they shape our perception.
In the short documentary “Kitten or refugee?” (2023), Farifteh took a further step in her investigation into empathy. Test subjects were shown images and were asked to decide whom they would rescue in an emergency situation. But who deserves our help and why? The choices proved, unsurprisingly, to be strongly shaped by prejudice and reveal how quickly people attempt to rationalise their decisions. “Kitten or refugee?” was selected for the Debut Competition of the Netherlands Film Festival and received first prize in the Storytelling category of De Zilveren Camera.
In her installation “Toen ik de zon en de maan tegelijk zag” [“When I saw the sun and the moon simultaneously”], which was acquired by the Fries Museum, Farifteh poses a different, but related question. If society seems unable to offer a place to those who wish to feel at home somewhere, might the landscape provide space instead? With its openness and its apparent distance from political structures, the landscape here becomes a possible place of refuge. At the same time, the artist invites visitors to reflect on their own ideas about home, identity and exclusion, and not least on their own role.
Earlier this year, her most recent work was shown at the Rijksmuseum, which also acquired it for its collection. The museum invited her to visualise the theme ‘Asylum’ for the fiftieth edition of the annual photography commission Document Nederland. In this project, Farifteh reverses the perspective: instead of speaking about refugees, she allows them to speak themselves, showing us through their eyes who ‘we’ have become. Her practice is strongly rooted in research and for Document Nederland she spoke, often on location, not only with asylum seekers but also with specialists from across the field, from lawyers and staff members of COA and IND to journalists and people working for non-governmental organisations. This work also earned her a Zilveren Camera in the Storytelling category.
Can you tell us more about the work you present at Art Rotterdam and in Kunsthal Rotterdam?
For Document Nederland, the Rijksmuseum’s annual photography commission, I photographed and filmed the Dutch asylum system. The central figure is B., who after more than four months in immigration detention at Schiphol and a stay in Ter Apel is now in the middle of an asylum procedure. By presenting B. as a guide and narrator, I reverse the gaze: instead of speaking about asylum seekers, I allow the audience, quite literally, to listen to one of them. In doing so I hold up a mirror to the Netherlands. This exhibition is not about them but about us.
At Art Rotterdam and in Kunsthal Rotterdam I present several elements from this exhibition. One of the key works is titled “Naturalisatie van het portret van B” [“Naturalisation of the portrait of B”]. B. spent more than four months detained at the Schiphol detention centre. He does not feel protected by our laws: he asked for help and ended up in a cell. Yet he wants to share his story because he believes society should know what happens behind these walls, even though he fears the consequences. As an artist, I hold no political power, but I can create images and tell stories. Museums, cultural institutions and collectors can preserve those images for the future.
The final step in the asylum procedure is naturalisation, officially becoming Dutch. This is only possible after five years of legal residence. B. is still far from that point. So I wondered whether I could already ‘naturalise’ B.’s portrait. B., the Rijksmuseum and I agreed that his portrait will be included in the collection, but as long as B. feels unsafe his portrait will remain unrecognisable and visible only behind frosted glass. These agreements also apply to acquisitions at the fair or the display of the work in Kunsthal Rotterdam. Only when he feels safe, or when he feels he has nothing left to lose, will his face and identity become visible. In this way we record not only his story but also the time in which he felt unprotected.
What are your plans for 2026?
An exhibition is a powerful medium. It allows a public to be immersed in a story, to create an experience that resonates and lingers. But exhibitions are often temporary. That is why I want to make a book, a lasting form in which not only the story of B. takes centre stage but above all: the story of the Netherlands and how we deal with people who ask us for protection.
‘Asiel’ is a layered visual essay in book form in which I connect the past and the present through four pillars of Dutch identity: culture, religion, the rule of law and the economy. I combine my own images with works from the collection of the Rijksmuseum, supplemented by material from news media and social media. Three storylines intertwine: the story of B., who has just arrived in the Netherlands, my personal journey through crucial locations within the asylum process, and an investigation into how ‘the asylum seeker’ has been represented historically and in the present.
‘Asiel’ questions our norms, values and freedoms and reveals how a system once rooted in empathy could harden into something distant and indifferent. By showing not only what happens but also what this says about us, the book opens a critical perspective on how the Netherlands deals with people seeking protection. The work breaks through distance and abstraction and invites reflection on our history, our identity and our responsibility in the present. For this book I am collaborating with design studio LMNOP for the design and with publisher The Eriskay Connection.
In addition, I am currently working on a three-part documentary series Tina in Sexbierum, which will be broadcast on VPRO / NPO from Thursday 7 May. A few years ago, I moved to a small village in Friesland because I could no longer find affordable housing in Amsterdam. Friends who leave the city often return to where they came from, but I cannot return to my birthplace Tehran. When I arrived in the village I encountered curious looks and prejudices from villagers about ‘outsiders’, but also my own assumptions about the countryside and the closed nature of my own Amsterdam bubble.
In Tina in Sexbierum, the two worlds that come together lead to honest and occasionally confronting encounters. I speak with my fellow villagers, from the mayor to the postman, bicycle repairer and GP. I meet the village brass band Door Samenwerking Groot and learn that cooperation is a skill that must be learned. And a close friendship develops with my 83-year-old fellow villager, former potato farmer Auke, with whom I drink coffee every week. I gradually come to know the small community better and discover what living together and caring for one another truly means. By looking at one another with humour, lightness and affection, both my fellow villagers and I begin to learn from each other despite our differences.
Tina in Sexbierum is a personal and disarming documentary series about displacement, detachment, the longing for a home and at the same time the inability to feel at home in a society that continually rejects you on an existential level. The three-part series forms part of the transmedial project of the same name.
In 2027, Foam Amsterdam will present a survey exhibition bringing together all parts of the project, including video, photography, text, light and sound, in a single presentation.
Can you describe how you felt when you heard that you had been nominated for the NN Art Award?
I was very surprised and honoured, and above all incredibly happy. Happy because the nomination gives more people the opportunity to see the work. But also because it creates greater attention and awareness for B.’s story and for the situation many people like B. currently face in the Netherlands. B. and I are grateful that the story reaches a wider audience in this way, so that no one will be able to say: we did not know.
Which project would you immediately take on if you were to win the award?
My dream is to publish the book ‘Document Nederland: Asiel’ and to launch it in a special way. We want to present it in a location that can be transformed both visually and conceptually, allowing us to immerse the audience in images, stories and connections. It should become a total experience in a physical way, a space in which the story can be felt and that visitors can then take home in the form of the book. For both the production of the book and its launch, we can use all the help and support we can get. Winning this award would be a tremendous step towards realising that dream.
The work of Tina Farifteh has previously been shown at Amsterdam Museum, the Rijksmuseum, the Fries Museum, Monopole – Schiedam Museum, Museum Hilversum, Sexyland, Melkweg Expo, The New Current, BredaPhoto and on NPO VPRO.
The winner of the NN Art Award 2026 will be announced on Friday 27 March at Kunsthal Rotterdam. During this festive evening, all exhibitions, including the NN Art Award exhibition, will be freely accessible to invited guests.
Written by Flor Linckens
“From a teenage emperor, assassinated at seventeen by their praetorian guard, they transform successively into a cruel monster, a creature of unusual and excessive appetites, an effeminate impostor from the East, an anarchist intent on hastening the decline of the empire, an epicurean of metaphysical blasphemies, a sacred fool whose blunders cause the skirts of reality to lift, and an androgynous angel straddling the ruins of the ancient past and our precarious present.”
An evocative and powerful description of Heliogabalus (Elagabalus) by Berlin-based artist Elijah Burgher (1987, USA), whose latest body of work loosely revolves around the image of this infamously controversial Roman emperor.
In the New Art section in the booth of Ivan Gallery (Bucharest), Burgher draws on mythology, occult magic, queer desire, and art history to examine how images survive and mutate across time. The New Art section, curated by Övül Ö. Durmuşoğlu, is reserved for solo presentations by emerging artists with a compelling and conceptually thoughtful practice.
Heliogabalus or Elagabalus is a historical figure whose life has long been eclipsed by an unstable and excessive afterlife in literature, painting, opera, devotional fantasy, and gossip. “They were said to have delighted in quizzing embarrassed senators on whether they, too, had enjoyed the passive role in anal sex when they were young and beautiful,” writes Burgher in his essay Our Lady of the Latrines: Notes on the Elagabalus Egregore. Although ancient sources cast the emperor as a depraved tyrant, sexual deviant, and religious scandal, more recent readings crown them “an anarchist, hero of hedonism, saint, and martyr of the sexual revolution,” as Arrizabalaga y Prado (2010, 1) note in his research, quoted by Burgher.
Very little reliable visual evidence of the emperor survives. Only two bust types are generally attributed to Heliogabalus, largely because their name and image were systematically condemned after their death through damnatio memoriae. This scarcity of material evidence has allowed the emperor to become a screen onto which later writers and artists project their own (vicious) ideas.
The body of paintings shown at Art Rotterdam is made with acrylic paint on studio rags and material cut from failed or abandoned paintings, mounted on panels. Many works consist of ripped or torn pieces of canvas and linen collaged together. Even when painted over completely, the seams of the surface remain visible and the history of the materials appears along the edge of the panel. “They remind me of mummy rags and bathroom graffiti,” the artist explains. “I am also looking closely at Fayum tomb portraiture and the grisaille paintings of Mantegna and Bellini. Some paintings draw on my work with sigil magic and occult abstraction to explore and amplify the solar phallic cults of antiquity, Heliogabalus being an outstanding and perverse example of one.”
In his essay Our Lady of the Latrines: Notes on the Elagabalus Egregore, Burgher deliberately uses the pronouns she/her when referring to the emperor. The choice functions partly as a provocative gesture that resonates with both transfeminine readings of Heliogabalus and the playful use of feminine pronouns in gay slang.
Outside that specific textual context, however, the emperor’s gender identity remains historically uncertain. In this text, we therefore use they/them pronouns to acknowledge the variety of contemporary interpretations surrounding the emperor’s gender. The question of gender, however, is not the central focus of Burgher’s paintings, which are more concerned with the emperor’s mythos, the scarcity of historical evidence, and the long history of artistic interpretations of this enigmatic figure.
The Golden Ass
While Burgher is primarily presenting new paintings in the booth, The Golden Ass reflects another central aspect of his practice: drawing, and particularly drawing with colored pencils, a medium he has explored intensively for more than fifteen years. The colors in the work are built through watercolor washes on paper, over which the artist carefully hatches layers of colored pencil.
“The emperor is now mainly known as Elagabalus or Heliogabalus, names that derive from the Syrian solar deity they served as high priest. During their brief reign in the early third century, they shocked society by elevating the eastern sun god to the centre of Roman religious life and compelled Roman elites to participate in unfamiliar rituals imported from the eastern provinces,” tells Burgher.
This is just one of many scandalous stories that revolve around the figure of Heliogabalus and their afterlife image. In turn, the emperor acquired an infamous number of vulgar nicknames. “Golden Ass could easily be added to that list”, Burgher notes. “French playwright and theorist Antonin Artaud describes the emperor’s entry into Rome walking backward, ass-first, as they lead the phallic stone representing their god on a golden quadrigal drawn by 300 naked women and 300 drugged bulls.”
Across these legends, gold appears alongside bodily substances during sacrilegious spectacles. Quoting Artaud, Burgher notes that “to the shit, blood, and cum that frame the emperor’s fate, gold can be added, the gold of solar fire as well as the earthly gold embroidered on their purple robes.”
For Burgher, this strange constellation of materials also recalls the symbolic Great Work. In medieval alchemy, the Great Work described a transformative process in which base and chaotic matter is broken down and gradually refined until it becomes gold. The process was often imagined as a cycle of stages associated with different colours (black, white, yellow and red) and substances, moving from darkness and decay toward illumination and completion. Within this framework, the substances evoked by Artaud, blood, excrement, semen, and gold, can be read as markers within a symbolic chain of transformation. Burgher therefore describes the myth of Heliogabalus as a constantly shifting cycle. As he writes, the emperor’s legend operates like a turning wheel: “each pose spins the wheel of Elagabalus’s fortune, turning shit into gold and back again.”
Other compelling nicknames proposed by the artist for the emperor include Solar Phallic Princess, Poor Little Ghost Boy, E\H, and Our Lady of the Latrines, which he often references in the titles of his artworks.
Heliogabalus (Latrine Graffiti)
One of the other works in the booth of Ivan Gallery is Heliogabalus (Latrine Graffiti), which refers to a scene that remained vivid in Burgher’s imagination while he made this series. A latrine is a communal toilet, and the term evokes the crude, careless drawings and writings often scratched onto the walls. Burgher connects this idea to a play by Jean Genet about the Roman emperor, long believed lost but only recently rediscovered and published.
In the play’s final scene, the emperor hides in the palace latrines with his lover, Aeginus, while the guard closes in. There he notices the obscene graffiti covering the walls and recognises that the texts refer to them. The emperor reflects on the strange form of glory they represent:
“Aeginus, here is the glory that I desired, without knowing it: my name and my titles, each distorted, transformed, grimacing or smiling, your choice, among them, and strengthening them, obscene poems and drawings, which everyone would call vile, on the walls of the latrines used by the slaves.” (translation by Elijah Burgher).
For Burgher, this scene suggests a powerful inversion. The emperor’s image survives outside marble monuments and official histories and persists in crude and anonymous graffiti. “This scene lingers in the background of my imagination while I make these paintings, although I am not aiming to illustrate it. I would say that my major themes right now are eroticism, sacrifice, and resurrection,” Burgher explains.
You can explore these works by Elijah Burgher, along with many others, in the booth of Ivan Gallery in the New Art section.
Written by Emily van Driessen
If, as the saying goes, all roads lead to Rome, then the reverse must also be true. Rome is a starting point. This certainly applies to the founding myth of the Eternal City. According to tradition, Rome was founded by Romulus and Remus, twin sons of the Roman god Mars. The boys decided to establish a city on the spot where they had been found by a she-wolf.
The image associated with this myth may be even more famous: the bronze sculpture of a watchful she-wolf with two infants suckling, better known as the Capitoline Wolf. It appears on the Roman city coat of arms and bronze copies of the sculpture can be found all over the world, from Pisa to Tokyo and from Bucharest to Perth.
Romanian video artist Aurelia Mihai created LUPA, a film about the Capitoline Wolf and the copies of the sculpture that are located around the world. It serves as a good introduction to Mihai’s work, in which she regularly features iconic artwork. Her focus is not only on the work itself, but also on the places where it appears and the value we collectively assign to it. That meaning, after all, can differ from place to place and change over time.
LUPA by Aurelia Mihai can be seen in Projections. Aurelia Mihai is represented by Sector 1.
I had a great time watching LUPA, which centres around the copies of the Capitoline Wolf found all around the world. Why did you pick this particular work for Art Rotterdam?
The decision to present LUPA for the first time in the Netherlands at Art Rotterdam was made collectively. LUPA is a complex project that combines several central aspects of my practice: the intertwining of cultural-historical research with current socially relevant topics such as migration, belonging and postcolonialism, as well as the exploration of monuments and myths as forms of collective belonging. The film’s plot spans distances across continents, stretching from historical times to the present day. It also encompasses artistic discourses on originals and replicas and reflects on the medium of art itself.
Lupa narrates the film and at one point, says, “I am always a copy, never a fake.” As a viewer, you immediately sense that this line is the core message. What is the message you are trying to convey?
Here, Lupa refers to her own origins. During restoration work in 2007, it was discovered that the technique used to create the Capitoline Wolf bronze sculpture did not exist during the Etruscan period. Consequently, it was re-dated to the 11th–12th century, rather than the 6th century BC, as previously assumed. Experts believe that the Capitoline Wolf is a replica of a lost Etruscan original. The two children, Romulus and Remus, were added in the 15th century during the Renaissance. The international press then claimed that the Capitoline Wolf was either a ‘medieval fake’ or ‘had fallen from its pedestal’.
Another issue concerns the bronze technique itself. This raises the question of whether bronze itself is a reproduction technique, given that its processes are based on reproduction. In other words, a positive is first created and then destroyed to produce the negative required for bronze casting. Finally, a new positive is cast in bronze within this negative. This is considered the original, but it can also be considered a bronze copy of the original prototype.
The film LUPA examines the historical evolution of this iconic symbol – both a monument and a myth – and follows its journey around the world. In this context, it analyses the reception of this monument after its redating in 2007, but also in the current postcolonial context. Here, it shows that Lupa belongs to everyone and reminds us of its symbolic value.
The Capitoline Wolf is an iconic artwork. As are the Suprematist Black Square in the eponymous video work and Trajan’s Column in your film Centi Piedi. Yet the movies are only partially about these iconic works. They are also very much about the way they are seen and the function society ascribes to them. This is a recurring theme in your work, so when did you first establish this as a theme?
From the very beginning, I was interested in precisely this narrative, based on the process of reflection on the subject over time. And that is why I chose video and film as the medium of expression for the work described above.
I would describe why I was interested in this process in Lupa as follows: monuments and myths are part of our collective consciousness. Monuments belong to the public space, while myths belong to intangible heritage. They serve to evoke history or mythology and contain a narrative, a story from the past that can interweave historical facts with fiction. The history and meaning of monuments can be rewritten over time and is linked to the rewriting of history. They can convey an ideology and be propagandistic in nature. Monuments can be misused, forgotten and rediscovered.
Another important aspect is the fact that the Capitoline Wolf migrates around the world and is assimilated into different societies, in different places and in each context, is given its own meaning, similar or different, and even contradictory.
From the outset, I knew that the work would not only be about the Capitoline Wolf or the Black Square, but also become a contemporary narrative highlighting current socio-cultural and political issues. I construct narrations in multiple layers, with the medium of film itself often being one of them.
You mention the differences in context and the various interpretations of the Capitoline Wolf—what are the differences between Bucharest and Tokyo, for example?
There are three bronze statues of the Roman she-wolf in Tokyo, two of which are located in public places. The first is in a park and was donated by the Italian government in 1938, the second by the city of Rome in 2001 to mark the fifth anniversary of the city partnership between Tokyo and Rome. The third statue was offered to Crown Prince Akihito of Japan during his visit to Rome in July 1953.
The Municipality of Rome gifted the Lupa statue to Bucharest in 1906 to celebrate the 40th anniversary of King Carol I of Romania’s coronation and the 1,800th anniversary of the Roman conquest of Dacia.
Two scenes in the film highlight the importance of the monuments in the two cities. In Tokyo, a grandmother recounts the legend of Rome’s creation to her grandson. In Bucharest, the she-wolf recounts its own history:
“Since I arrived in Bucharest in 1906, I’ve moved five times, only to ultimately return to this same place. I survived two world wars and the Ceausescu dictatorship unscathed. It was a different story in the Moldovan capital of Chisinau. The Soviet army destroyed me in 1945 as an alleged symbol of fascism. I embodied the Latin-Roman roots of the Moldovan people and the Romanian language. They melted me down to make weapons out of me.”
The film creates its own reality by staging moments of interference with sculptures as if they were a road movie – a journey through time and space.
I can imagine making a short film like LUPA is a long time in the making, involving considerable resources and travelling. What was the most challenging part about this project?
Yes, it was a very complex project that took several years to complete. The research was intensive and obtaining filming permits in museums and different countries, as well as organising travel, was very time-consuming. But I had a very good team and received a lot of support from institutions in Rome, such as the German Academy Villa Massimo.
Written by Wouter van den Eijkel
“Hi, I’m Jonathan, and I’m worried.” That’s how Dutch visual artist Jonathan Hielkema (1994) opens his artist statement. He worries, a lot, and those concerns are precisely what drive his artistic practice. Through a caring approach, he has developed a way of working that helps him (and others) find reassurance.
“I used to think art was made for the viewer, but I’ve come to realize that artists also make work for themselves, for all sorts of reasons. For me, it’s mainly about talking to ordinary people, trying to find ways to move beyond the overwhelming scale of global issues through personal stories. That’s how I give my worries about the world a place.”
Hielkema connects this idea to worryism, a term he coined during his time at art school. “I started wondering what it was exactly that I had studied, and how on earth I was supposed to make a living from it? Because that’s something we were never really taught. That’s how worryism emerged: the act of worrying as art, worrying about art, worried art, a worried artist, art that carries worries.”
Hielkema is one of 92 emerging artists who recently received a Kunstenaar Start grant from the Mondriaan Fund. Part of his latest photographic project, Europe, who are you? (2025–2026), will be presented in the Prospects section at Art Rotterdam. The work fits seamlessly within his wider practice, where personal concerns become an entry point to address broader social questions.
Caring for a European Identity
Europe, who are you? (2025–2026) is Hielkema’s attempt to explore what a European identity might mean today. One part of the project, titled Around Europe, consists of four large oak frames containing archival photographs relating to colonial history, European identity, and integration.
The choice of oak is deliberate. “Oak represents the Franco-German axis and acts as an old connector within European history.” The archival photographs Hielkema collected capture moments from the founding countries of the European Union: France, Germany, the Netherlands, Italy, Belgium and Luxembourg. These archival images are presented alongside large staged photographs taken by the artist himself, which reflect on the present. In this way, historical fragments enter into dialogue with contemporary perspectives. Visitors are even invited to take the photographs out of their frames to read the archival descriptions printed on the back.
One of the archival photographs shows a border sign with a flag burning on the Italian–French border. “The information on the back reveals that the photo was taken in 1953. The negative was sent to the United States, where it was printed and scanned for newspaper distribution. The flames in the centre were actually drawn onto the negative by hand, because the real fire didn’t show up strongly enough in the image. As a contemporary counterpart, I photographed my own child eating a European flag.”
Another archival image comes from Belgium in 1960 and depicts a woman with two children. On the back it reads: Refugees arrive in Brussels. “Of course, this refers to colonists who were forced to return from the Democratic Republic of Congo to Belgium,” Hielkema explains. As a contemporary response, the artist staged a photograph of himself at the Atomium in Brussels, holding a protest sign that reads This Land Was Promised to Me. “At first glance it’s a cynical echo of the archival image, but it’s also a comment on current geopolitical tensions beyond the borders of the European Union.”
Born in 1994, shortly after the founding of the European Union in the early 1990s, Hielkema grew up with open borders and the euro as a matter of course. Yet while interviewing people across Europe, he noticed that many have lost sight of what those freedoms actually make possible, precisely because they have become so normalised.
“Europe often feels both tangible and abstract at the same time. It’s a vast and slow-moving system that can be difficult to grasp. To reflect that ambiguity in the installation, four 6-metre-high barrier gates, from the border between Germany and the Netherlands, tower above the oak frames and archival images. They are arranged as a semi-circular structure inspired by the layout of a parliament. But their meaning remains deliberately unclear. Are open borders something positive? Are they a threat? Or are borders themselves the threat?”
Caring for Masculinity
His search for a European identity resonates with another recent project, Black Butterflies, or; The Ballad of Jonny Toxic & Jacco Macho (2025). During his studies, Hielkema presented The Portable Village, a blueprint for a collaborative residential experiment where different disciplines would come together to tackle a social problem from multiple perspectives.
One of his teachers responded bluntly: “The man who always wants to change the world, do you realize how many disasters that has caused? Maybe you should take a look at your own masculinity.”
“I was completely taken aback, but it did make me reflect,” Hielkema says. “As a teenager I was relentlessly bullied for my long hair, nail polish and pink clothes. To survive, I started wearing caps, quit athletics and violin lessons, and took up basketball and smoking instead. Eventually I decided to turn that experience into a film together with a friend from Italy, Jacopo Martini. We travelled through the land of machismo and the land of thrifty Calvinists, speaking with ordinary people about how masculinity is experienced today, whether they feel concerned about it, and whether there might be alternatives. Through that process I started questioning my own masculinity, but also embracing it. And eventually I began asking whether it is still possible to celebrate it.”
Caring for One Another
Hielkema grew up in a family with seven brothers; one of them has multiple disabilities. After finishing art school, he chose to work in the healthcare sector. For six years he worked with Olivier, a disabled boy about whom he is also making a film. One question keeps troubling him: who will take care of these boys once their parents are no longer able to?
“Will it be the government? Will it be us brothers? Are we capable of that? What kind of bureaucracy would we have to deal with? My parents always made sure my brother Camiel had every opportunity, and his future path is quite clear. Camiel works as a DJ, DJ Wheelstar, has an assistance dog, works in Amsterdam and travels independently by train and ferry. But Olivier has only one brother and cannot live independently. From morning to night he relies on care provided by others and by his parents. Most people never really see that reality. On a societal level, we all contribute to that care through taxes. But within families themselves, there are countless worries about the future, especially at a time when the Dutch care system is increasingly under strain.”
Caring for Nuance
America, how are you? (2020) is the central question of another project. Hielkema wondered whether North American society is truly as polarized as the media and political rhetoric often suggest. “There seems to be this narrative of radical division. But there are roughly 250 million eligible voters in the United States, and about sixty million voted for Trump. So how many fucking people does that still leave?”
By speaking with that often unheard majority, Hielkema attempts to restore nuance to the conversation. “And nuance is precisely what tends to disappear today. Perhaps nuance could help us treat each other a bit more nicely. People often told me: ‘These are the kinds of interviews CNN or Fox News should be doing.’ But unfortunately, genuine human conversations rarely make for clickbait. In the end, good news simply means no news.”
Around Europe, part of the photographic series Europe, who are you? (2025–2026) by Jonathan Hielkema, can be seen in the Prospects section at Art Rotterdam.
Written by Emily van Driessen
The fact that the work of Daphne van de Velde is being shown at Unseen Photo is not surprising. Her work consists of photographs and sculptures made from photographs. But this simple description does not do justice to the breadth and singularity of Van de Velde’s work. The results are preceded by a performance and video registration. As a result of this procedure, and the associative image manipulation that follows, Van de Velde’s work cannot easily be pinned down or compared with that of others. It stands on its own.
The person in the photographs is Van de Velde herself. The pictures are stills from the recording of a performance. She prints the images and then tears or bends them so that the tension she experienced as a dancer is incorporated into the image.
In a photograph from her newest series, Penthesilea, we see her lying in water with her arms spread out, the silhouette of her body visible. The core—her torso and face—has been torn out. That portion of paper curls out from the flat surface. The tension is palpable.
In the sculpture Crossing, the movement of a dancer can be recognised: a raised knee in a brown tunic. Here, too, part of the body is missing—the face this time. Revealing and concealing is a central theme in Van de Velde’s work. In Penthesilea, she links this to the myth of Penthesilea, the Amazon queen who, in a male-dominated world, chose love rather than indifference. We spoke with Van de Velde about her new series and unique approach.
Works from the series Penthesilea by Daphne van de Velde can be seen at Unseen Photo at the Black Swan Gallery stand.
At Art Rotterdam, work from your new series Penthesilea will be shown. Not everyone is familiar with the myth of this Amazon queen. Why were you inspired by this story and why did you decide to use it in your work?
The unusual names in Greek mythology make it seem as if we are speaking about another era, yet they also essentially address our own time: how we relate to ourselves and to one another, and how we position ourselves within the world we inhabit. What appeals to me in these texts is that they are stripped of all irrelevant information that characterises our time.
Penthesilea caught my attention because she clearly positions herself as a woman in a male-dominated world. I admire her courage to cast off her armour, step out of her self-chosen prison and move from indifference towards love. In my newest series of work, I walk alongside her for a while, though at times I also follow my own path.
At the fair, we see the final result of what could be described as a multi-stage process: dance, performance-photography-sculpture. Can you explain your approach?
I do not divide my work that way, but choose a medium that best suits what I want to express in a particular artwork, but I understand what you mean. Because of my background in contemporary dance and degrees in Fine Arts, Architecture and Autonomous Photography, my work is rooted in spatial awareness and bodily movement. I move between photography, performance and sculpture to explore these transitions. My own body functions as subject, instrument, carrier and voice.
What does your work require?
To make art, I need five dimensions: the first three to give a work spatial presence, supplemented by time and place. The notion of time is especially important because my work has a narrative quality. The title of the series, Penthesilea, suggests this.
Can you elaborate on this?
You need time to watch a performance. With a photograph, this is different – you receive all the information at once. A sculpture lies somewhere in between: you need time to observe it from all sides. The reason sculpture stands at the end of this three-stage process is that I create my art for an audience and that audience does not always have access to my performance.
Within my process, I effectively freeze time several times. The moment I take a still from a performance is the first instance. To visualise the bodily tension I experience as a dancer, I transform the two-dimensional plane of the photograph into a three-dimensional one. I do this by pulling or pushing the surface—sometimes until it tears—to allow certain parts of the body to disappear and others to emerge. In some cases, the documentation of the final sculpture can be a third freezing of time, as it enables me to incorporate the direction of light.
You also mentioned the place where your work is shown. Do you determine that on a work-by-work basis?
Location is important. For Art Rotterdam, the sculptural form comes closest to what I want to convey in relation to the audience there. Soon my work will be shown at an exhibition at the EYE Filmmuseum in Amsterdam, where my films function best as the medium. In places where I can meet the audience within the space and where sufficient room is available, performance works well.
During the opening of the PhotoBrussels Festival, I presented a performance in which I encountered the image of my body on a life-size photograph that was 2 1/2 metres high and manipulated it with my body until a sculpture remained. Dance and the deformation of the photograph intertwine, something I can literally demonstrate to the audience.
This is also reflected in the presentation of the work within the series Penthesilea. Some sculptures consist of folded photographic paper. Others are torn. In both cases, the images are not entirely visible. My approach is highly associative. At the moment of creation, I choose the form that best suits the artwork.
How would you describe the theme of your work?
Conceptually, my work involves the revealing and concealing of the body, exposure and protection. That is why I never show the body in its entirety, but emphasise certain parts, while allowing others to be omitted by literally removing them or placing them in shadow.
Your gallerist told me you were once a timid person and that dance helped you to develop a sense of presence. That connects with the theme of revealing and concealing the body. When someone moves, you never see everything at once.
Everyone has their own way of communicating. There was a time in my life when I found it very difficult to express myself verbally. Dance became a way for me to speak – and became almost addictive.
My initial form of communication was contemporary dance, followed by photography. In recent years, I have combined both, rooted in a personal narrative. For me, making art remains a means of communication. The artworks reflect my emotions, such as love and the fear of it, but it is not exclusively about me. It involves feelings we all share as human beings.
Your work stands apart in that it does not directly reference other artists. Are there artists with whom you feel an affinity?
I am drawn to artists who want to tell their own story, regardless of form or conceptual consequences. In that sense, I have great admiration for the music of PJ Harvey, who adopts a musical style appropriate to each project. Her work is cumulative and comparable to my art. Each project stands on its own, yet is built on previous ones. I am not interested in repeating the same art or music; once I have done something, it loses its sense of urgency.
Another artist I deeply admire is the prematurely deceased British-Iraqi architect Zaha Hadid. With her well-known statement, “There are 360 degrees, so why stick to one?”, she articulated a vision of architecture in which materials and forms offer infinite possibilities beyond the familiar 90-degree angle. I approach my art in a similar way. I enjoy material research and connections that initially seem impossible. I continue to experiment until I find a solution that makes them possible.
You mentioned earlier that Penthesilea lived as a woman in a male-dominated world and the artists you cited are also women. Is there a feminist critique within your work?
Penthesilea is not an idealised figure according to the male gaze, but a fallible female character. She inspired me to show how the conflict between desire and self-control continues to this very day. Despite women’s emancipation, female desire often remains beneath the surface. Penthesilea embodies the charged moment when an inner boundary is crossed and interior experience breaks outward.
Through my work, I want to advocate female strength, yet it is certainly not intended as anti-male. I believe in a fundamental difference between women and men in how they think, feel and act. Every individual contains, to varying degrees, elements of both femininity and masculinity. To me, there is no such thing as male or female art. What exists is the act of working based on your own strength—and for me that includes the strength I experience through womanhood and the courage to acknowledge both boundaries and desires.
Is there a project you would like to carry out in the future?
I would very much like to create the spatial work shown at Art Rotterdam on a monumental scale. The enlarged dimensions would allow audiences to relate optimally to the artwork.
A grant I received last year from the Province of Gelderland enabled me to develop a technique that makes it possible to produce my photo-sculptures in life-size, while maintaining structural stability.
My greatest dream is to present my sculptures in a monumental museum space where I can combine them with my films and performances to create a comprehensive experience of my work. Yet outdoor settings-squares and parks-are equally compelling, as they allow me to combine the direct nature of my work with the direct nature of public spaces.
Written by Wouter van den Eijkel
