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The series  OPPERVLAKTES (surfaces / from 2005) consists of  8 paintings on which I apply thin layers of acrylic paint since 2005. Each painting started on a different time making it one work thicker and heavier than the other work. In 2007 the series were exhibited in the exhibition CONCRETE ZAKEN, Nieuwe Vide, Haarlem, the Netherlands, a group show curated by Jan Maarten Voskuil. The text below about the series OPPERVLAKTES, is written by Jan Maarten Voskuil for the catalog of this show. In the exhibition SLOW FREEZE, GEMAK, The  Hague,  the series will be exhibited again. This time presented on a table,  as part of the installation ‘Model 005/the function of the studio’ – SLOW FREEZE,  January 18 – March 2, 2013,  GEMAK, The Hague. Clary Stolte / 2013

OPPERVLAKTES – So lets take a piece of art serious and enter it openly. Let’s begin with what represents the most basic identity of painting: A white monochrome. For decades white paintings regularly appear in exhibitions. As an example, we do not take one but a series of paintings entitled Oppervlaktes (Surfaces). Usually a white painting is interpreted as a reference to the beginning and the end of art. But we can also look at a white painting as an independent work and not as a conceptual comment on painting. What are the intrinsic qualities of the work and do they exist? When we think of artists immediately the name Robert Ryman appears but Ryman has a very personal handwriting which is not the idea of concrete painting we would like to discuss. More concretely the zero artists of the sixties are confronting us with monochrome white painting. They use not only the conceptual meaning of white (zero), but they also use its intrinsic quality. White reflects all colours and mirrors the light to its full extent. In the series Oppervlaktes the entry of light is surely one of the qualities of the work. Here it is about identical bright white canvases. When you study this further you can see the canvases are not entirely identical. Close inspection betrays a minimal difference in the structure of the surface and gloss between the works. However smooth the works have been painted, a brush visibly has been used. Along the edges minimal differences are visible especially when you lift the painting (unfortunately this usually is not allowed at exhibitions), then you feel the real difference. One canvas is much heavier than the other. The weight is because of the amount of paint used, not because of the stretcher or the canvas. One painting can contain 10s of 100s of layers of paint while another work very few. Once you have the canvas in your hand, it is impossible to see the works as equal anymore. The works gain identity by touching them, holding them or studying them. You could say something becomes something when it is noticed. In the series Oppervlaktes, the meanings are about subtle differences in weight structure and luminosity because many layers over a long period of time have been applied to the painting. The consistency and dedication of the artist plays an important role in the background. Even when you do not know who made it. The fact that someone made this effort indicates that natural forces were at work. Jan Maarten Voskuil, catalog Concrete Zaken / 2007

Clary Stolte, 2012

March 31-April 28, 2012 (galerie van den Berge, Goes, The Netherlands) I will present a new show that is based on the context of the  studio called ‘Model 004 / the function of the studio’. The presenting of the work will be the topic and the presentation itself substantive of the work; the difference between the studio situation and the exhibiting place.

Previous shows about this topic are: ‘Plastic Memory’ (Plastic geheugen), Nieuwe Vide, Haarlem, The Netherlands – 2003; ‘Plastic Memory 2′ (Plastic geheugen 2, de Verschijning, Tilburg, The Netherlands – 2004;  ‘Model 003′, Galerie van den Berge, Goes, The Netherlands – 2006;  ‘A bit o’white’, CCNOA, Brussels, Belgium – 2007; ‘Een i treurend om een punt’, Schunck* Museum, Heerlen, The Netherlands – 2011.

‘The function of the studio’ is the title of a text written by Daniel Buren in 1971;  currently the title of my project and presentations inspired by this text:

THE FUNCTION OF THE STUDIO

Written by Daniel Buren January 1971

Personal

When I was very young (seventeen) I began a study on painting in the Provence from Cezanne to Picasso (specifically, on the influences of the geographical place on the works). To bring this work to a satisfactory conclusion, I not only scoured southwest France, I also visited a large number of artists in their studios. My visits took me from the youngest artists to the oldest, from total unknowns to the most well-known. What struck me, first, was the diversity of the work, followed by its quality, richness and particularly reality, that is to say ‘sincerity’ independent of who the artist was or what his reputation was. I mean ‘reality/sincerity’ not only in regard to the author and his workplace, but also in relation to the environment, the landscape.
A bit later, I visited the exhibitions of the artists I had met, one after the other, and there my amazement blurred, even sometimes totally disappeared, as if the works I had seen in the studios were no longer the same or even made by the same person. Torn from their context, one could say from their environment, they lost their sense, their life. It was as if they became ‘frauds’. I didn’t immediately understand very well (far from it) what was happening, nor the reason for my disillusion.
One single thing became certain, and that was deception. Several of these artists I saw several times, and each time the gap between their studios and the walls in Paris became more accentuated for me, up to the point that it became impossible for me to continue visiting their studios and their exhibitions. From that time on, something irreparable was shattered, although the reasons for this were confused.
Later, I repeated the same disastrous experience with friends of my generation, even though the profound ‘reality / sincerity’ of the work was closer to me. This ‘loss’ of the object, this degradation of the interest for a work out of its context- as if an energy essential to its existence disappeared as soon as the threshold of the studio was crossed- was starting to preoccupy me enormously. The sensation that the essence of the work gets lost somewhere between the place where it is produced (the studio) and the place where it is consumed (the exhibition) pushed me extremely early on to pose the problem of the signification of the place of the work for myself. A little later, I understood that what got lost, what most surely got lost was the work’s reality, its ‘sincerity’, that is, its connection to its place of creation, the studio- a place where
finished works intermingle with works in the process of being made, works that will never be finished, sketches, etc. All these trace, visible at the same time, allow the comprehension of the work underway, which the museum definitely extinguishes in its desire to ‘install’.
Doesn’t one speak, by the way, more and more of an ‘installation’ instead of an ‘exhibition’ ? And isn’t that which is installed close to establishing itself?

Historical

In my opinion, Constantin Brancusi was the only artist who proved to have real intelligence when it comes to the museum system and its consequences. Moreover, he tried to conquer it, that is, tried to avoid that his work become rooted there, to make it impossible to settle it according to the whim of the current curator. Indeed, by bequeathing a major part of his work under the reservation that it was to be kept as it was in the studio where it originated, Brancusi cut short once and for all its dispersion, as well as any speculation Furthermore, this offered any visitor exactly the same viewpoint as his own at the time of production. Thus Brancusi was the only artist who, even if he worked in the studio and was aware of the fact that his work was closest to its ‘sincerity’ there, took the risk – preserving the relationship between the work and the place where it was made – of confirming ‘ad vitam’ his production in the spot that saw its origin. Among other things, he thus shortcut the Museum and its desire to classify, beautify, select, and so on. The work remains visible the way it was produced, for better and for worse.
Therefore, Brancusi was also the only one who managed to safeguard the everyday character in his work, which the museum is anxious to take away from all that it exhibits. One could also say – but this would necessitate a longer study – that this fixing of the work in the sense that it is to be seen in the place where it was made has nothing to do with the ‘fixing’ as practiced by the museum on everything that is shown in it.
Brancusi also proved that the so-called purity of his works is neither less beautiful nor less interesting within the four wall of the artist’s studio, surrounded by various utensils, other works, some unfinished, others finished, than between the immaculate walls of aseptic museums. Whereby the entire production of art, both yesterday and today, is not only marked but preceded by the use of the studio as an essential, even sometimes unique place of creation, all my work derives from its abolition.

SUBSTANCE 1 – 500 lt. hairgel

1min./part1 http://www.clarystolte.nl/gel/

2 min./ part1+2     http://www.clarystolte.nl/gel1.html

book project

click photo to enter project

UNFINISHED # 9

THE FUNCTION OF THE STUDIO

Written by Daniel Buren January 1971

Personal

When I was very young (seventeen) I began a study on painting in the Provence from Cezanne to Picasso (specifically, on the influences of the geographical place on the works). To bring this work to a satisfactory conclusion, I not only scoured southwest France, I also visited a large number of artists in their studios. My visits took me from the youngest artists to the oldest, from total unknowns to the most well-known. What struck me, first, was the diversity of the work, followed by its quality, richness and particularly reality, that is to say ‘sincerity’ independent of who the artist was or what his reputation was. I mean ‘reality/sincerity’ not only in regard to the author and his workplace, but also in relation to the environment, the landscape.
A bit later, I visited the exhibitions of the artists I had met, one after the other, and there my amazement blurred, even sometimes totally disappeared, as if the works I had seen in the studios were no longer the same or even made by the same person. Torn from their context, one could say from their environment, they lost their sense, their life. It was as if they became ‘frauds’. I didn’t immediately understand very well (far from it) what was happening, nor the reason for my disillusion.
One single thing became certain, and that was deception. Several of these artists I saw several times, and each time the gap between their studios and the walls in Paris became more accentuated for me, up to the point that it became impossible for me to continue visiting their studios and their exhibitions. From that time on, something irreparable was shattered, although the reasons for this were confused.
Later, I repeated the same disastrous experience with friends of my generation, even though the profound ‘reality / sincerity’ of the work was closer to me. This ‘loss’ of the object, this degradation of the interest for a work out of its context- as if an energy essential to its existence disappeared as soon as the threshold of the studio was crossed- was starting to preoccupy me enormously. The sensation that the essence of the work gets lost somewhere between the place where it is produced (the studio) and the place where it is consumed (the exhibition) pushed me extremely early on to pose the problem of the signification of the place of the work for myself. A little later, I understood that what got lost, what most surely got lost was the work’s reality, its ‘sincerity’, that is, its connection to its place of creation, the studio- a place where
finished works intermingle with works in the process of being made, works that will never be finished, sketches, etc. All these trace, visible at the same time, allow the comprehension of the work underway, which the museum definitely extinguishes in its desire to ‘install’.
Doesn’t one speak, by the way, more and more of an ‘installation’ instead of an ‘exhibition’ ? And isn’t that which is installed close to establishing itself?

Historical

In my opinion, Constantin Brancusi was the only artist who proved to have real intelligence when it comes to the museum system and its consequences. Moreover, he tried to conquer it, that is, tried to avoid that his work become rooted there, to make it impossible to settle it according to the whim of the current curator. Indeed, by bequeathing a major part of his work under the reservation that it was to be kept as it was in the studio where it originated, Brancusi cut short once and for all its dispersion, as well as any speculation Furthermore, this offered any visitor exactly the same viewpoint as his own at the time of production. Thus Brancusi was the only artist who, even if he worked in the studio and was aware of the fact that his work was closest to its ‘sincerity’ there, took the risk – preserving the relationship between the work and the place where it was made – of confirming ‘ad vitam’ his production in the spot that saw its origin. Among other things, he thus shortcut the Museum and its desire to classify, beautify, select, and so on. The work remains visible the way it was produced, for better and for worse.
Therefore, Brancusi was also the only one who managed to safeguard the everyday character in his work, which the museum is anxious to take away from all that it exhibits. One could also say – but this would necessitate a longer study – that this fixing of the work in the sense that it is to be seen in the place where it was made has nothing to do with the ‘fixing’ as practiced by the museum on everything that is shown in it.
Brancusi also proved that the so-called purity of his works is neither less beautiful nor less interesting within the four wall of the artist’s studio, surrounded by various utensils, other works, some unfinished, others finished, than between the immaculate walls of aseptic museums. Whereby the entire production of art, both yesterday and today, is not only marked but preceded by the use of the studio as an essential, even sometimes unique place of creation, all my work derives from its abolition.

010-003

June 17, 2010 / Preparing for – IS BOX 25-25 -

- READY MADE # 2 – sealed Chinese ready made canvas board – edition 75

- IS comes to SNO – IS BOX containing work of 25 artists / curated by IS Projects

SNO 62 / Sydney Non Objective / 07.08.2010 – 29.08.2010