The Hague artists

Based on study's of the golden section

The fourth of the monument series. It is what i call a contemplative piece. It came forth from contemplating cyclical aspects of nature

A installation view of the exhibition Blue in Billytown early 2015

The first of the monuments series

The shifting scapes of material in the ground’s sub-surface bend, tweak, and distort magnetotelluric currents. Vertical strata of rocks, soils, and metals slump over time due to climatic variation, disturbing the porous materials below. As the minerals fluctuate, telluric currents also shift in an ever-developing sonic dialogue. The magnetic data stored and amplified by the ground properties of the site are decoded by a geo-tool. The Earth becomes a substrate for listening, in which the underground filters and displays electro currents. The work borrows from scientific measuring devices which have been re-purposed for the act of listening rather than data collection. The installation offers a live dig into the electrical depths of The Hague. The work is part of the exhibition 'A State of Amplitude' in collaboration with ReWire festival. Exhibited: Quartiar Contemporary Art Initiatives as part of ReWire festival 2021

The shifting scapes of material in the ground’s sub-surface bend, tweak, and distort magnetotelluric currents. Vertical strata of rocks, soils, and metals slump over time due to climatic variation, disturbing the porous materials below. As the minerals fluctuate, telluric currents also shift in an ever-developing sonic dialogue. The magnetic data stored and amplified by the ground properties of the site are decoded by a geo-tool. The Earth becomes a substrate for listening, in which the underground filters and displays electro currents. The work borrows from scientific measuring devices which have been re-purposed for the act of listening rather than data collection. The installation offers a live dig into the electrical depths of The Hague. The work is part of the exhibition 'A State of Amplitude' in collaboration with ReWire festival. Exhibited: Quartiar Contemporary Art Initiatives as part of ReWire festival 2021

The shifting scapes of material in the ground’s sub-surface bend, tweak, and distort magnetotelluric currents. Vertical strata of rocks, soils, and metals slump over time due to climatic variation, disturbing the porous materials below. As the minerals fluctuate, telluric currents also shift in an ever-developing sonic dialogue. The magnetic data stored and amplified by the ground properties of the site are decoded by a geo-tool. The Earth becomes a substrate for listening, in which the underground filters and displays electro currents. The work borrows from scientific measuring devices which have been re-purposed for the act of listening rather than data collection. The installation offers a live dig into the electrical depths of The Hague. The work is part of the exhibition 'A State of Amplitude' in collaboration with ReWire festival. Exhibited: Quartiar Contemporary Art Initiatives as part of ReWire festival 2021

Door de zone van onsterfelijk geluid binnen te gaan, kunnen zowel materiële als niet-materiële mechanismen worden gemeten. Dit levende territorium van ijzererts reikt verder dan de fysieke deeltjes en in een vloeibare bol. Een kakofonie van ruis en informatie, begrensd door een opvouwbare dimensie. De magnetische gegevens die worden opgeslagen en versterkt door de metalen eigenschappen van de site worden gedecodeerd door een geo-tool. Achter deze gordijnen van lichamelijkheid verschijnen een reeks onzichtbare inscripties die vloeien en dansen in de ruimte. Hier wordt de landmeter een actieve lezer van diepe tijd, huidige tijd en nieuwe tijd, terwijl hij voortdurend temporele morfologie tegenkomt. Het binnentreden van deze ijzeren kern van signalen wordt fundamenteel voor de inquisitie van onzichtbare ruimte en techno-centrische positionering.

Door de zone van onsterfelijk geluid binnen te gaan, kunnen zowel materiële als niet-materiële mechanismen worden gemeten. Dit levende territorium van ijzererts reikt verder dan de fysieke deeltjes en in een vloeibare bol. Een kakofonie van ruis en informatie, begrensd door een opvouwbare dimensie. De magnetische gegevens die worden opgeslagen en versterkt door de metalen eigenschappen van de site worden gedecodeerd door een geo-tool. Achter deze gordijnen van lichamelijkheid verschijnen een reeks onzichtbare inscripties die vloeien en dansen in de ruimte. Hier wordt de landmeter een actieve lezer van diepe tijd, huidige tijd en nieuwe tijd, terwijl hij voortdurend temporele morfologie tegenkomt. Het binnentreden van deze ijzeren kern van signalen wordt fundamenteel voor de inquisitie van onzichtbare ruimte en techno-centrische positionering.

Door de zone van onsterfelijk geluid binnen te gaan, kunnen zowel materiële als niet-materiële mechanismen worden gemeten. Dit levende territorium van ijzererts reikt verder dan de fysieke deeltjes en in een vloeibare bol. Een kakofonie van ruis en informatie, begrensd door een opvouwbare dimensie. De magnetische gegevens die worden opgeslagen en versterkt door de metalen eigenschappen van de site worden gedecodeerd door een geo-tool. Achter deze gordijnen van lichamelijkheid verschijnen een reeks onzichtbare inscripties die vloeien en dansen in de ruimte. Hier wordt de landmeter een actieve lezer van diepe tijd, huidige tijd en nieuwe tijd, terwijl hij voortdurend temporele morfologie tegenkomt. Het binnentreden van deze ijzeren kern van signalen wordt fundamenteel voor de inquisitie van onzichtbare ruimte en techno-centrische positionering.

Door de zone van onsterfelijk geluid binnen te gaan, kunnen zowel materiële als niet-materiële mechanismen worden gemeten. Dit levende territorium van ijzererts reikt verder dan de fysieke deeltjes en in een vloeibare bol. Een kakofonie van ruis en informatie, begrensd door een opvouwbare dimensie. De magnetische gegevens die worden opgeslagen en versterkt door de metalen eigenschappen van de site worden gedecodeerd door een geo-tool. Achter deze gordijnen van lichamelijkheid verschijnen een reeks onzichtbare inscripties die vloeien en dansen in de ruimte. Hier wordt de landmeter een actieve lezer van diepe tijd, huidige tijd en nieuwe tijd, terwijl hij voortdurend temporele morfologie tegenkomt. Het binnentreden van deze ijzeren kern van signalen wordt fundamenteel voor de inquisitie van onzichtbare ruimte en techno-centrische positionering.

Door de zone van onsterfelijk geluid binnen te gaan, kunnen zowel materiële als niet-materiële mechanismen worden gemeten. Dit levende territorium van ijzererts reikt verder dan de fysieke deeltjes en in een vloeibare bol. Een kakofonie van ruis en informatie, begrensd door een opvouwbare dimensie. De magnetische gegevens die worden opgeslagen en versterkt door de metalen eigenschappen van de site worden gedecodeerd door een geo-tool. Achter deze gordijnen van lichamelijkheid verschijnen een reeks onzichtbare inscripties die vloeien en dansen in de ruimte. Hier wordt de landmeter een actieve lezer van diepe tijd, huidige tijd en nieuwe tijd, terwijl hij voortdurend temporele morfologie tegenkomt. Het binnentreden van deze ijzeren kern van signalen wordt fundamenteel voor de inquisitie van onzichtbare ruimte en techno-centrische positionering.

Het apparaat dat wordt gebruikt in de film 'Untangling Noises of Matter' is een zelfgebouwd geo-hulpmiddel dat verschillende delen van het elektromagnetische spectrum onderzoekt en scant. Als installatie wordt het een live luisterstation naar de omringende signalen die door de ionenwereld navigeren. Afhankelijk van de specifieke locatie van de installatie kan het ‘Radio Ear’ apparaat worden afgestemd en geprogrammeerd om de magnetische signalen van de lokale spectrale ecologie te complimenteren.

Het apparaat dat wordt gebruikt in de film 'Untangling Noises of Matter' is een zelfgebouwd geo-hulpmiddel dat verschillende delen van het elektromagnetische spectrum onderzoekt en scant. Als installatie wordt het een live luisterstation naar de omringende signalen die door de ionenwereld navigeren. Afhankelijk van de specifieke locatie van de installatie kan het ‘Radio Ear’ apparaat worden afgestemd en geprogrammeerd om de magnetische signalen van de lokale spectrale ecologie te complimenteren.

Deze installatie neemt een faseovergang over. Het object (vaas uit het begin van de 20e eeuw) legt zijn kwetsbare aard bloot door gevangen te worden tussen twee fasen van zijn. Door een machineturbulance orkestreert de vaas zijn eigen manoeuvres, voor onze ogen vliegend in een reeks onherkenbare posities. Een film met een gesplitst scherm vergroot de verhalen van balans, aanpassing, gemotoriseerd leven, simulatie en eeuwigdurend gedrag.

Het project begon met het bouwen van antennes om elektromagnetische golven te ontvangen die vrijkomen door de machines van De Electriciteitsfabriek, Den Haag. De stroom die in bepaalde perioden van de nacht werd geproduceerd, had rechtstreeks betrekking op piekgebruik van warmte in de stad. Ter vergelijking: informatie werd ook verzameld buiten de perimeter van het European Space Research and Technology Centre (ESTEC) in Noordwijk. Deze verzameling gegevens is een doorlopend onderzoek dat wordt gematerialiseerd en fysiek wordt gemaakt door aluminium buizen te beschrijven. Via een zelfgebouwd elektrolysesysteem worden beschrijvingen, symbolen en onbewerkte gegevens statisch gemaakt. Deze buizen worden vervolgens terug geplaatst op de plaatsen van elektromagnetische verzameling. In samenwerking met Zuzanna Zgierska

Onderzoek in eigen huis bij 's werelds grootste radiotelescoop.

Rond de omtrek van Aerial 6 wordt een serie elektromagnetisch luistergeluid uitgevoerd. Onderaan de foto is het ‘Radio Ear’ aanwezig.

De uitlaatpijp van een auto wordt waargenomen meanderend door een verlaten landschap. Deze ruimte hangt belangrijke objecten van vrijheid op, tijdens veroudering. Verloren in de omgeving van de geschiedenis, toegeven naar een hedendaags tijdperk van onzichtbare apparaten.

In de luchtmachtrecords van de VS bevindt zich een reeks documenten met tekens, vizier en analyse van alle vliegende objecten. In de records zijn er grote verhoudingen die wijzen op afwijkingen in de categorieën ‘onbekend’ en ‘overig’. Het onlangs uitgebrachte archief is ook onvolledig ... Deze reeks van werkzaamheden behelsde de herontdekking van de 'Other' en fungeerde als een heruitgave van de ontbrekende pagina's uit het archief. Een voorgesteld alternatief voor de bekende openbare geschiedenis van ETA.

In de luchtmachtrecords van de VS bevindt zich een reeks documenten met tekens, vizier en analyse van alle vliegende objecten. In de records zijn er grote verhoudingen die wijzen op afwijkingen in de categorieën ‘onbekend’ en ‘overig’. Het onlangs uitgebrachte archief is ook onvolledig ... Deze reeks van werkzaamheden behelsde de herontdekking van de 'Other' en fungeerde als een heruitgave van de ontbrekende pagina's uit het archief. Een voorgesteld alternatief voor de bekende openbare geschiedenis van ETA.

Shared ground, 160 cm x 80 cm Natural Pigment and ink on linen, 2026

Connection in time, Danielle Davidson, 160 cm x 81 cm 2026

Connected roots Danielle Davidson, 65 cm x 45 cm 2026

Mountain Echoes, 160 cm x 80 cm, 2026 Natural Pigment and ink on linen

Een serie van 9 werken

Free/boxed Dagboek van Liefde, Danielle Davidson, 14,8 cm x 21 cm 2025

Boxed, Dagboek van Liefde, Danielle Davidson, 14,8 cm x 21 cm 2025

Growth, Dagboek van Liefde, Danielle Davidson, 14,8 cm x 21 cm 2025

Boxed, Dagboek van Liefde, Danielle Davidson, 14,8 cm x 21 cm 2025

Connection Dagboek van Liefde, Danielle Davidson, 14,8 cm x 21 cm 2025

Free entrance Dagboek van Liefde, Danielle Davidson, 14,8 cm x 21 cm, 2025

Familiar, Dagboek van Liefde, Danielle Davidson, 14,8 cm x 21 cm 2025

Free space Dagboek van Liefde, Danielle Davidson, 14,8 cm x 21 cm 2025

Serie werk tijdens het Kamermuziekfestival 2021

Drawing during the WHAT IIIF? Drawing Impromptu 2021 with with Latagueuse elegante

Een serie van 9 werken

Een serie van 9 werken

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Links; Uil. Kinetisch draaiend schilderij. Rechts; Fluitje.

Ergens afgelopen winter, toen hij zijn atelier binnenkwam merkte Bo dat er wat vreemde vlekken op één van de schilderijen waar hij aan werkte op de vloer zaten. Een muis leek over het schilderij te zijn gelopen en had overal op het doek kleine voetafdrukken achtergelaten. De ontdekking van deze schijnbaar onbedoelde samenwerking plantte een zaadje in Bo's hoofd om onderzoek te doen naar niet-menselijke samenwerking. "De Vlucht" is een werk gemaakt in samenwerking met vogels. Op het Rabbijn Maarsenplein achter de Nieuwe Kerk in Den Haag creëerde Bo een omgeving voor vogels om kunst te maken. Hij legde drie soorten dun papier neer en legde bakstenen in de hoeken van het papier op straat. Daarna kraakte hij een ei op het papier en probeerde het eigeel in het midden van het papier te mengen met een pigment om een geïmproviseerde ei-temperaverf te maken - een verf die het meest natuurlijk en veilig is voor vogels om mee te werken. Na het toevoegen van indigo pigment was het aan de vogels om aan de slag te gaan. Bo strooide een zak pinda's rond deze papieren vellen, waardoor veel vogels om hem heen dromden en samen aan de stukken werkten terwijl ze hun buikjes rond aten. Duiven van over het hele plein deden mee en maakten drie unieke kunstwerken.

Working on cottons typically used for underclothing, with a silicone-based solution which dries with a still-wet-look, the sweat paintings I’ve been making since 2017 capture forms derived from studies of perspiration as it emerges on our clothing. These works explore the fluidity of sweat and the oppositional themes of labour, sex, illness, exercise and nervousness that it can suggest. They highlight a concern that runs throughout my work, of the body as an object at the threshold of our social/exterior and psychological/inner life. I hold a particular interest in sweat as an intimate, involuntary expression of discomfort, triggered by our being in the world, being looked upon, being thought about. We cannot make ourselves sweat, but the thought of others thinking about us can. In this way, sweat represents an intersubjective event, the interchange of thoughts and feelings between individuals. My interest in the subject continues to grow because of the way it challenges our assumptions about self-control and blurs the lines between self, other and society.

Duo exhibition with Czech artist Jiří Pitrmuc in artist run space Galerie SPZ. We produced works in dialogue with each others for a three month period and presented them one after the other in a rhythmic chain that encircled visitors to the space.

Working on cottons typically used for underclothing, with a silicone-based solution which dries with a still-wet-look, the sweat paintings I’ve been making since 2017 capture forms derived from studies of perspiration as it emerges on our clothing. These works explore the fluidity of sweat and the oppositional themes of labour, sex, illness, exercise and nervousness that it can suggest. They highlight a concern that runs throughout my work, of the body as an object at the threshold of our social/exterior and psychological/inner life. I hold a particular interest in sweat as an intimate, involuntary expression of discomfort, triggered by our being in the world, being looked upon, being thought about. We cannot make ourselves sweat, but the thought of others thinking about us can. In this way, sweat represents an intersubjective event, the interchange of thoughts and feelings between individuals. My interest in the subject continues to grow because of the way it challenges our assumptions about self-control and blurs the lines between self, other and society.

Group exhibition at Rembrandt House Museum, Amsterdam curated by Nathalie Maciesza, with work by Melanie Bonajo, Natasja Kensmil, Rineke Dijkstra, and Verena Blok among others. I presented two night sweat paintings from 2019: ‘Darkling’ and ‘Limned’.

Working on cottons typically used for bedding, with a silicone-based solution which dries with a still-wet-look, the night sweat paintings I’ve been making since 2019 capture forms of night sweating that can occur in various sleeping positions. These works explore the fluidity of sweat and the oppositional themes of stress, sex, illness and anxiety that it can suggest. They highlight a concern that runs throughout my work, of the body as an object at the threshold of our social/exterior and psychological/inner life.

During a three month residency as part of 'Fold #03 on Happiness', – the third chapter in SEA Foundation’s research on art and sustainability – I held open conversations with the people around me, exploring how others understand happiness, how they experience it and what role it plays in their lives. This starting point led to an extended text based on my recollections of these conversations. Through writing I began to reflect further on what happiness means to me. The conversations, most of which were made with my closest friends and family, took place at a pivotal time, as my partner and I prepared for the arrival of our first child. I began questioning the ‘everyday happiness’ and the ease at which I enjoy it, against the challenge of creating a foundation for long-term happiness, before critically regarding the impulse to isolate a single emotion in the first place. Made during a COVID lockdown, the written work was presented as part of an instagram takeover, with one conversation being shared per day. The image shared here concerns the first of 11 conversations that were shared at that time.

During a three month residency as part of 'Fold #03 on Happiness', – the third chapter in SEA Foundation’s research on art and sustainability – I held open conversations with the people around me, exploring how others understand happiness, how they experience it and what role it plays in their lives. This starting point led to an extended text based on my recollections of these conversations. Through writing I began to reflect further on what happiness means to me. The conversations, most of which were made with my closest friends and family, took place at a pivotal time, as my partner and I prepared for the arrival of our first child. I began questioning the ‘everyday happiness’ and the ease at which I enjoy it, against the challenge of creating a foundation for long-term happiness, before critically regarding the impulse to isolate a single emotion in the first place. Made during a COVID lockdown, the written work was presented as part of an instagram takeover, with one conversation being shared per day. The image shared here concerns the first of 11 conversations that were shared at that time.

(Part of the exhibition ‘56 risks, 55 risks transferred, and three parts of three risks transferred and embroidered […]’) We continued the workshop for the duration of the festival and the organisers extended its use of their primary gallery space for a further two months. It developed organically and came to include an open exhibition of works of embroidery that people shared with us. I transferred all of the ‘risks’ (a literal translation from the Portuguese which means ‘sketch’) that we made to record our discussions, onto the walls of the gallery themselves, demonstrating the reflective symmetry which was so important to Azorean embroidery. The ‘map’ of the exhibition space was prefixed with the disclaimer ‘–The open form of the workshop and its exhibition produces content and involves contributors that are subject to change. This works list was accurate at the time of writing, on the day that the exhibition opened.–’ and the exhibition was eventually titled: 56 risks, 55 risks transferred, and three parts of three risks transferred and embroidered, surround the common cloth for the open embroidery workshop with matiz on silk, a rustic stitch, a water wheel, a Picasso, some Mexican motifs and a Yugoslavian tapestry.

(Part of the exhibition ‘56 risks, 55 risks transferred, and three parts of three risks transferred and embroidered […]’) A recent development in my work has been to use open invitations to foreground dialogue in an exhibition context, through social actions concerned with the way we interrelate. For an arts festival in the Azores, I shared the way I usually initiate projects –by engaging with a technique or material– in an open collaboration with others. My intention was to unify the praxis-based approach I use to think/feel through making/materials, with the underlying social concerns that often form the basis of the content of my work. I became interested in hand-embroidery, which I encountered for the first time on a visit to Sao Miguel and which was, historically speaking, widely practiced throughout the archipelago. I could see parallels between my own practice and embroidery’s concern with self-representation, our social being in public. It also shares with my own perspective on contemporary art a performative quality in the way it is used to make-special spaces/objects for a specific period of time. I proposed using the time and space of the festival to initiate an open embroidery workshop. The workshop included practitioners with a lifetime of experience, some experience and others like myself who had no experience. Some we specifically invited, most responded to a widely distributed open invitation, and others were passers-by from the neighbourhood. For nine days, the gallery-space was transformed into a meeting point for understanding and exploring embroidery’s relationship to a raft of intersecting concerns such as gender, class, cultural identity, socio-political history, modernity, industrialisation, leisure, ceremony and interpersonal relations. There were no predefined outcomes, no hierarchy and membership of the workshop was fluid, people came and went. I asked simple questions like what is embroidery? and, what does it do? The shared understanding we developed was captured through written notes made on large sheets of embroidery design paper.

(Part of the exhibition ‘56 risks, 55 risks transferred, and three parts of three risks transferred and embroidered […]’) The project was ambitious and expansive, challenging many of the boundaries and preconceptions that were held in the context of the festival. Our approach to interdisciplinary knowledge drew on the ‘knowledge ecology’ of all members. We shared authorship, in contrast to the structural hierarchy in place elsewhere in the festival that placed artists above artisans. In an exhibition context we created a productive space that was continuously in flux. We resisted defining a physical outcome or process, and re-negotiated what we would do in the workshop every day with each new group of participants. The word ‘craft’ was never used and as with ‘tradition’, I came to view it as part of a legacy of modernity, in which communal art practices, often the work of women, were denigrated and condemned as a making process of the ‘past’ from which modern art was defined against.

As part of the arts festival Walk&Talk in the Azores, I worked in collaboration with embroiderer Maria da Conceição Mansinho, artisan Ana Medeiros and artisan and textile researcher Sofia Silva to form an open embroidery workshop. The act of embroidering was highlighted as a relational and social practice, in which the agency and participation of diverse forms of knowledge came together to produce a practical essay on communality. For nine days, the central exhibition space vaga was transformed into a meeting point for understanding and exploring embroidery’s relationship to labour, to the hand-made, to the industrial, to free time, to ceremony, family, men, women, tradition, modernity, cultural identity, symmetry; asking what embroidery is, what it could be, and what common spaces are, or could be. The exhibition presented and continued this process. The title of the presentation, which was extended for a further two months after the festival ended, describes 56 notations on tracing paper, 55 of them carbon transferred on to the gallery walls, 3 parts of them embroidered, a large shared cloth used as a communal space for practicing embroidery and an open exhibition of works of embroidery that were shared with the workshop.

In 2020 I collected all of the preparatory drawings I had made for sweat paintings in an artists’ book, designed and riso-printed with Studio Hendriksen. The studies are a step between researching images of sweat and making the paintings, with their job being to abstract sweat from its context, ahead of displacing it into the space of a painting. Sweat was conceived to expand on this process, share the original sources and linger on the subject. I self-published Sweat under The Kippenberger Challenge imprint ‘7.45 Books’ and secured international distribution for it through Motto Books. It was nominated for De Best Verzorgde Boeken 2020 by a student jury.

From an ongoing series of ‘umble prints, which I use as a space to bring together divergent areas of interest, sources, references and hesitant starting points in improvised ‘blind-tiled’ compositions. ‘Fumble’ was made on a riso-printer across four A3 pages in four different coloured layers. It incorporates a line drawing of curator Freek Lomme’s speaking head (printed in two colours), an iphone photograph of page 169 of ‘Stress: The Nature and History of Engineered Grief’ by Robert Kugelmann, a 3d SketchUp mock-up for a proposal in public space of an ‘Behavioural Residue’ and a list of words/quotations and starting points for new works.

From a series of sculptures made by casting in lead enlarged drawings of pared fingernails that I find on the floor of my studio. The work began as an attempt to make a visual oxymoron in which the material and technique of a piece is contradicted by the form it portrays. It was the end product and not the process that I was interested in, the meta-state of something which is two things at once, in this case a confident portrayal of doubt, made out of a very heavy and poisonous metal orientated to form a smile. In 2019 a number of them had their toxic surface refreshed with a metallic paint finish in colours derived from popular nail polishes.

Working on cottons typically used for underclothing, with a silicone-based solution which dries with a still-wet-look, the sweat paintings I’ve been making since 2017 capture forms derived from studies of perspiration as it emerges on our clothing. These works explore the fluidity of sweat and the oppositional themes of labour, sex, illness, exercise and nervousness that it can suggest. They highlight a concern that runs throughout my work, of the body as an object at the threshold of our social/exterior and psychological/inner life. I hold a particular interest in sweat as an intimate, involuntary expression of discomfort, triggered by our being in the world, being looked upon, being thought about. We cannot make ourselves sweat, but the thought of others thinking about us can. In this way, sweat represents an intersubjective event, the interchange of thoughts and feelings between individuals. My interest in the subject continues to grow because of the way it challenges our assumptions about self-control and blurs the lines between self, other and society.

In 2019, for a solo exhibition at Bloc Projects in Sheffield, I challenged myself to be more direct with the social content of my work, whilst at the same time introducing chance to define the physical characteristics of the exhibition. I found myself photographing sandbags I saw used in public space in the region, which, being a similar size and mass to a human torso, can often take highly emotive anthropomorphic forms. Sandbags are typically used as a quick response to temporary conditions: from simply acting as a weight to stabilise a road sign, or defending a property from flood water. I related this ‘heavy-thing’ to both (historically) sculptural concerns and a physical experience of depression. I started making my own sandbags out of ‘loungewear’ I found stocked in abundance in nearby shops and market stalls. I became fascinated by this material as a new category of clothing that speaks of a contemporary lifestyle spent largely indoors and alone. At the same time I began collecting bedroom furniture that I found illegally dumped on the streets. ‘Fly-tipping’, as it’s called in the UK, is a growing phenomenon that I saw as a reflection of the material reality of insecure housing and the unsustainable economics of mass produced furniture which means that our main problem as consumers is how we can dispose of our current possessions so that we can buy more. Inspired by John Martin’s paintings of apocalyptic floods, I brought these elements together by flooding the gallery with shallow water, creating a narrative in which the sand-filled loungewear climbed on top of the bedroom furniture and became marooned on flat packed islands.

(Part of the exhibition ‘Fall, slump, drop on a bedside cabinet in water […]’) Scene from a solo exhibition of sandbags I made from loungewear then marooned on fly-tipped (illegally dumped) furniture in a room flooded with standing water.

Solo exhibition developed on a residency with Onomatopee, Eindhoven, bringing together groupings of four interrelated series of works: 'Night sweat paintings', 'Semblable wood, 'Rubin’s cornice' and "‘umble prints". It was the first in a series that I made in 2019 that explored domestic scenes through lyrical ‘dream spaces’ between imagination and reality. In the gallery of Dürst Britt & Mayhew the juxtaposition of a diverse arrangement of works was used to explore a shifting perspective of lived experience.

(Part of the exhibition ‘Ecstatic, darkling with […]’) Semblable wood was made using a variation of the lost wax technique, with found tree stumps surrounded by plaster before being incinerated, their voids replaced with bronze which is then broken out of the mould. The resulting casts formed a fossilised assembly of young trees felled upon reaching maturity. Occupying the entire floorspace, the modest monuments with trunks the span of wrists and roots that reached out pointlessly, situated the exhibition in the midst of an unseen act of destruction and, in combination with the night sweat paintings, suggested a common dreamscape.

(Part of the exhibition ‘Ecstatic, darkling with […]’) Individual ‘stump’ from the installation ‘Semblable wood’, made using a variation of the lost wax technique, with found tree stumps surrounded by plaster before being incinerated, their voids replaced with bronze which is then broken out of the mould. The resulting casts formed a fossilised assembly of young trees felled upon reaching maturity. Occupying the entire floorspace, the modest monuments with trunks the span of wrists and roots that reached out pointlessly, situated the exhibition in the midst of an unseen act of destruction and, in combination with the night sweat paintings, suggested a common dreamscape.

81 found eyelashes were scanned directly on to the drum of a risograph printer and printed, one per spread, to irritate the context of an exhibition catalogue published to accompany the exhibition ‘Faltering, light under two screw holes…’ at SE8 Gallery, London. The book was designed with Chantal Hendriksen, I riso-printed the main book block in her studio, with additional offset printing of the cover and inserts taken care of by Lenoirschuring. Published under SE8’s imprint Mulberry Tree Press, it was nominated by the student jury for Best Verzorgde Boeken 2019.

Stedelijk Museum Kampen, Kampen

Jan Cunenmuseum, Oss

Cuypershuis, Roermond

Te zien op Design Basel 2018

Installatie Escher in het Paleis duo met Suzan Drummen

Fabric, chairs and carpet

Miami, USA

Paleis Soestdijk

Gemeentemuseum Den Haag

Lakenhal Leiden

Stedelijk Museum Schiedam

November 28, 2024, Naples Secretly, I call your Name It's midnight and pitch dark. I am awakened by a whispering sound that belongs to my mother's voice,she is sitting next to me with her eyes closed and hands folded in her lap. Mama Gloria is repeating something over and over, I hold my breath, prick my ears and listen carefully to what is being said. Slowly it is beginning to dawn on me and I understand what she is saying: “Papa, papa please help me, papa papa please help me, please show me the way, help me out papa. Thank you.” At that moment, my heart falls into pieces, my breath ceases and I don't know what to make of this, questions are buzzing around in my mind like wasps being stuck in a jar, to whom is she talking.? The Holy Father? I turn around, slowly release my breath, close my eyes and pretend to sleep, I never say a word... a memory by Dana LaMonda, 2025

November 28, 2024, Naples Secretly, I call your Name It's midnight and pitch dark. I am awakened by a whispering sound that belongs to my mother's voice,she is sitting next to me with her eyes closed and hands folded in her lap. Mama Gloria is repeating something over and over, I hold my breath, prick my ears and listen carefully to what is being said. Slowly it is beginning to dawn on me and I understand what she is saying: “Papa, papa please help me, papa papa please help me, please show me the way, help me out papa. Thank you.” At that moment, my heart falls into pieces, my breath ceases and I don't know what to make of this, questions are buzzing around in my mind like wasps being stuck in a jar, to whom is she talking.? The Holy Father? I turn around, slowly release my breath, close my eyes and pretend to sleep, I never say a word... a memory by Dana LaMonda, 2025

Day One Being summoned by the call of early morning prayers and the smell of Turkish coffee, my wanderlust awakes. I rise, seize the camera and within minutes find myself emerging into the hustle and bustle of daily life, strolling along the streets of Istanbul, navigating through secret alleyways and city dust. Surrounded by vivid colors, a chorus of seagulls, cats, traffic, streetvenders, and an eclectic mix of people. Embraced warmly by the locals, I am invited into their hearts and homes eager to be portaited, it feels like time itself pauses. My camera is clicking away, trying to capture it all. Dana LaMonda, 2023

Being summoned by the call of early morning prayers and the smell of Turkish coffee, my wanderlust awakes. I rise, seize the camera and within minutes find myself emerging into the hustle and bustle of daily life, strolling along the streets of Istanbul, navigating through secret alleyways and city dust. Surrounded by vivid colors, a chorus of seagulls, cats, traffic, streetvenders, and an eclectic mix of people. Embraced warmly by the locals, I am invited into their hearts and homes eager to be portaited, it feels like time itself pauses. My camera is clicking away, trying to capture it all. Dana LaMonda, 2023

Being summoned by the call of early morning prayers and the smell of Turkish coffee, my wanderlust awakes. I rise, seize the camera and within minutes find myself emerging into the hustle and bustle of daily life, strolling along the streets of Istanbul, navigating through secret alleyways and city dust. Surrounded by vivid colors, a chorus of seagulls, cats, traffic, streetvenders, and an eclectic mix of people. Embraced warmly by the locals, I am invited into their hearts and homes eager to be portaited, it feels like time itself pauses. My camera is clicking away, trying to capture it all. Dana LaMonda, 2023

Moon Gallery Foundation is developing an art gallery to be sent to the Moon, which will contribute to the establishment of the first lunar outpost. 100 artworks will be integrated into a 10 x 10 x 1 grid tray to fly to the Moon in 2025. The Moon is the ultimate home of the gallery, but the idea neither starts nor ends there: our work is based on expanding humanity’s cultural dialogue beyond our home planet. The point where the gallery will meet the cosmos for the first time in low Earth orbit in 2022. For this Test Flight in collaboration with Nanoracks, we fly the gallery to the International Space Station aboard the NG-17 rocket within the framework of a Northrop Grumman Cygnus resupply mission in February of 2022. This edition of the gallery grid features 8×8 cells housing 64 physical artefacts and one engraved AR artwork. 65 art projects featured in the gallery will reach the final frontier of human habitat and mark the historical meeting point of the Moon Gallery and the cosmos. Reaching low Earth orbit on our way to the Moon is the first step in extending our cultural dialogue to space.

n the centre of the main Quartair gallery space Dana LaMonda’s suspended heavy charred-looking door frames a shadowy vanishing point imprinted on glass. It seemed both ominous and uplifting. The glass serves as a point of perspective and sort of viewing point through the massive barrier but it is too high and too opaque to allow a view through. Instead the door remains as an object and the glass serves as a screen, leading the eye up.

To free myself from the ballast in my home, I moved my library from the house to the atelier. The books where placed with their backs facing the wall, to hide the titles and free them from what they are ‘supposed to be’ This created room to play.

HOK gallery: Thursday 16 July – Saturday 8 August 2020 Vernissage from Thursday 16 July 17h00 until Saturday 18h00 using time-slots The small underground venue HOK offers the perfect spot for the solo exhibition: One Minute, by the Hague photographer Dana LaMonda. Her show highlights an installation and photographs from the world of Rosaly, who puts her everyday clothes in her locker and exchanges them for her fishnet stockings and a pair of palette panties for the night. Her hair is covered by a red wig that is no prettier than her real hair. The tendon room: there it should be done and quickly. Rosaly is now Joe. It is a transformation process that leaves behind the residue of a hard day’s night, corona or not. How much sperm can a floor have, and who feels no respect for Joe, this powerful lady. How can you have sex while keeping a safe distance of 1.5 meters? Contact through holes, and with this: the return of the glory hole from ancient times, holes where you can put something through and then it is done. Plastic sheets for extra hygiene, a disinfectant spray: as long as we do it quickly and safely. Prostitution 2020. The colour of Dana’s photos are dominated by pink and blue. Here we see the documentary photographer Dana pur sang: showing a world that is real. The exposition will be accompanied by a limited edition HOK publication, all-in riso. As Dana LaMonda describes it: “ One Minute, is about being wild, being bold. It is an ode to women and her creative ability that nourishes and gives: "She has the creative power to take on any desired outer or inner appearance, she can make and destroy.”

One Minute As time drips and sounds penetrate, Footsteps become louder, then stop. The Doorbell rings twice. I get up. Heading towards the door, I slide into high heels and put on a wig. I take a last glance at my reflection. I like what I see. Today I am a redhead.

The Studio, Papa Rene in Retrospect, 2020 After his passing, I was left with the remnants of a lifetime, could not have imagined beforehand what I would find in his studio. First the handwritten letters from the fifties, these captured the zeitgeist of his time. I found myself wondering: “Dad, who are you?” At the same time I was realizing that I didn’t know who I was without my father. I decided to bring his story into the present moment.

HOK gallery: Thursday 16 July – Saturday 8 August 2020 Vernissage from Thursday 16 July 17h00 until Saturday 18h00 using time-slots The small underground venue HOK offers the perfect spot for the solo exhibition: One Minute, by the Hague photographer Dana LaMonda. Her show highlights an installation and photographs from the world of Rosaly, who puts her everyday clothes in her locker and exchanges them for her fishnet stockings and a pair of palette panties for the night. Her hair is covered by a red wig that is no prettier than her real hair. The tendon room: there it should be done and quickly. Rosaly is now Joe. It is a transformation process that leaves behind the residue of a hard day’s night, corona or not. How much sperm can a floor have, and who feels no respect for Joe, this powerful lady. How can you have sex while keeping a safe distance of 1.5 meters? Contact through holes, and with this: the return of the glory hole from ancient times, holes where you can put something through and then it is done. Plastic sheets for extra hygiene, a disinfectant spray: as long as we do it quickly and safely. Prostitution 2020. The colour of Dana’s photos are dominated by pink and blue. Here we see the documentary photographer Dana pur sang: showing a world that is real. The exposition will be accompanied by a limited edition HOK publication, all-in riso. As Dana LaMonda describes it: “ One Minute, is about being wild, being bold. It is an ode to women and her creative ability that nourishes and gives: "She has the creative power to take on any desired outer or inner appearance, she can make and destroy.”

HOK gallery: Thursday 16 July – Saturday 8 August 2020 Vernissage from Thursday 16 July 17h00 until Saturday 18h00 using time-slots The small underground venue HOK offers the perfect spot for the solo exhibition: One Minute, by the Hague photographer Dana LaMonda. Her show highlights an installation and photographs from the world of Rosaly, who puts her everyday clothes in her locker and exchanges them for her fishnet stockings and a pair of palette panties for the night. Her hair is covered by a red wig that is no prettier than her real hair. The tendon room: there it should be done and quickly. Rosaly is now Joe. It is a transformation process that leaves behind the residue of a hard day’s night, corona or not. How much sperm can a floor have, and who feels no respect for Joe, this powerful lady. How can you have sex while keeping a safe distance of 1.5 meters? Contact through holes, and with this: the return of the glory hole from ancient times, holes where you can put something through and then it is done. Plastic sheets for extra hygiene, a disinfectant spray: as long as we do it quickly and safely. Prostitution 2020. The colour of Dana’s photos are dominated by pink and blue. Here we see the documentary photographer Dana pur sang: showing a world that is real. The exposition will be accompanied by a limited edition HOK publication, all-in riso. As Dana LaMonda describes it: “ One Minute, is about being wild, being bold. It is an ode to women and her creative ability that nourishes and gives: "She has the creative power to take on any desired outer or inner appearance, she can make and destroy.”

Papa René René, a true collector, moved to a small space in a residential care centre and had to renounce his collections. For three months, his daughter Dana LaMonda photographed his collections so that he could still keep them around and slowly let them go. Saskia Gras 2019

What are the ideas that we want to promote into the future? What are the ideas that we want to leave behind?

To the Moon and Back And Back Again? Women give life to this world. The life that grows inside them captures the whole world. The female body helps foster new life forms and gives birth to existence. She is like stardust, an essential link in the chain of creation. My choice is to send one of my photograph’s displaying a naked woman to the moon. The image will be cut up with a laser and the heat of the laser beam will reduce the image into particles of matter and in this way it will be transformed into stardust. This laser process creates an opportunity to insert these particles into the Moon Gallery’s cube and to travel with it to the moon.

Papa René René, a true collector, moved to a small space in a residential care centre and had to renounce his collections. For three months, his daughter Dana LaMonda photographed his collections so that he could still keep them around and slowly let them go. Saskia Gras 2019

What are the ideas that we want to promote into the future? What are the ideas that we want to leave behind?

“The Velvet Zone 2017,” een levensgrote installatie bestaande uit duizenden zwart-wit beelden die in collage-vorm bevestigd zijn aan de muur, elkaar overlappen en op deze manier weer nieuwe beelden vormen. Groeiende vanuit een piepkleine kamer ’’het kabinetje” naar de omringende wanden van de tentoonstellingszaal, net als een zwerm vogels de hoogte in. Het kabinetje had de sfeer van een peeskamer, intiem, schaars verlicht, een tikkie broeierig. De woekerende uitgroei vanuit de gestileerde werkelijkheid van de peeskamer naar de witte wanden van de tentoonstellingsruimte hielp me over mijn angst voor de witte wand heen. Voorheen gewend om in losse foto’s aan de muur te denken, heb ik in dit onderzoek de stap gezet naar een installatieve vorm van presenteren. Met de nadruk op mijn liefde voor volheid en het gevecht tijdens de ordening en selectie van die volheid, als het naar buiten gaat in een expo. Wat me tegenstaat in de ‘losse foto’s in lijst’ benadering is de verkleining / reductie van de werkelijkheid. Ik ben gek op chaos, denk in chaos en wil deze behouden in mijn werk. Dat betekent niet ‘niet -ordenen’, zeker niet. Zonder ordening en selectie is er geen kunst te maken, dan kan ik net zo goed toeschouwers gewoon de wereld in laten lopen. Al werkend komt bij mij, na de eerste liefde voor chaos altijd de strijd met de tegenhanger aan bod: ordening en selectie. Deze installatie was een groot onderzoek naar: “Hoe de chaos, de volheid van het leven, te behouden zonder die in ene kunstwerk stilistisch te ver te reduceren.” Door een geordende chaos aan te bieden, en niet een serie ‘losse foto’s in lijsten’ kon ik het publiek die laatste -reducerende- stap laten maken: foto-vlakken uitkaderen en na afloop mee naar huis nemen. De finale selectie gaf ik zo uit handen. Bevrijdend! “The Velvet Zone 2017,” een levensgrote installatie bestaande uit duizenden zwart-wit beelden die in collage-vorm bevestigd zijn aan de muur, elkaar overlappen en op deze manier weer nieuwe beelden vormen. Groeiende vanuit een piepkleine kamer ’’het kabinetje” naar de omringende wanden van de tentoonstellingszaal, net als een zwerm vogels de hoogte in. Het kabinetje had de sfeer van een peeskamer, intiem, schaars verlicht, een tikkie broeierig. De woekerende uitgroei vanuit de gestileerde werkelijkheid van de peeskamer naar de witte wanden van de tentoonstellingsruimte hielp me over mijn angst voor de witte wand heen. Voorheen gewend om in losse foto’s aan de muur te

“The Velvet Zone 2017,” een levensgrote installatie bestaande uit duizenden zwart-wit beelden die in collage-vorm bevestigd zijn aan de muur, elkaar overlappen en op deze manier weer nieuwe beelden vormen. Groeiende vanuit een piepkleine kamer ’’het kabinetje” naar de omringende wanden van de tentoonstellingszaal, net als een zwerm vogels de hoogte in. Het kabinetje had de sfeer van een peeskamer, intiem, schaars verlicht, een tikkie broeierig. De woekerende uitgroei vanuit de gestileerde werkelijkheid van de peeskamer naar de witte wanden van de tentoonstellingsruimte hielp me over mijn angst voor de witte wand heen. Voorheen gewend om in losse foto’s aan de muur te denken, heb ik in dit onderzoek de stap gezet naar een installatieve vorm van presenteren. Met de nadruk op mijn liefde voor volheid en het gevecht tijdens de ordening en selectie van die volheid, als het naar buiten gaat in een expo. Wat me tegenstaat in de ‘losse foto’s in lijst’ benadering is de verkleining / reductie van de werkelijkheid. Ik ben gek op chaos, denk in chaos en wil deze behouden in mijn werk. Dat betekent niet ‘niet -ordenen’, zeker niet. Zonder ordening en selectie is er geen kunst te maken, dan kan ik net zo goed toeschouwers gewoon de wereld in laten lopen. Al werkend komt bij mij, na de eerste liefde voor chaos altijd de strijd met de tegenhanger aan bod: ordening en selectie. Deze installatie was een groot onderzoek naar: “Hoe de chaos, de volheid van het leven, te behouden zonder die in ene kunstwerk stilistisch te ver te reduceren.” Door een geordende chaos aan te bieden, en niet een serie ‘losse foto’s in lijsten’ kon ik het publiek die laatste -reducerende- stap laten maken: foto-vlakken uitkaderen en na afloop mee naar huis nemen. De finale selectie gaf ik zo uit handen. Bevrijdend! “The Velvet Zone 2017,” een levensgrote installatie bestaande uit duizenden zwart-wit beelden die in collage-vorm bevestigd zijn aan de muur, elkaar overlappen en op deze manier weer nieuwe beelden vormen. Groeiende vanuit een piepkleine kamer ’’het kabinetje” naar de omringende wanden van de tentoonstellingszaal, net als een zwerm vogels de hoogte in. Het kabinetje had de sfeer van een peeskamer, intiem, schaars verlicht, een tikkie broeierig. De woekerende uitgroei vanuit de gestileerde werkelijkheid van de peeskamer naar de witte wanden van de tentoonstellingsruimte hielp me over mijn angst voor de witte wand heen. Voorheen gewend om in losse foto’s aan de muur te

Installatie bestaande uit duizenden zwart wit beelden

Nomination 2016, Van Ommeren-De Voogt price Jury Rapport, Dana LaMonda with her installation Vanishing Point, This work shows a mysterious depth and gives a lonely and abandoned feeling. It draws attention and invites you to walk around it several times. The jury experiences an uncanny feeling, it exudes coldness but is luminous at the same time. The installation is completely aesthetic but agitates your thought process. It evokes questions and that is an important effect of art.

To free myself from the ballast in my home, I moved my library from the house to the atelier. The books where placed with their backs facing the wall, to hide the titles and free them from what they are ‘supposed to be’ This created room to play.

To free myself from the ballast in my home, I moved my library from the house to the atelier. The books where placed with their backs facing the wall, to hide the titles and free them from what they are ‘supposed to be’ This created room to play.

Papa René René, a true collector, moved to a small space in a residential care centre and had to renounce his collections. For three months, his daughter Dana LaMonda photographed his collections so that he could still keep them around and slowly let them go. Saskia Gras 2019

Papa René René, a true collector, moved to a small space in a residential care centre and had to renounce his collections. For three months, his daughter Dana LaMonda photographed his collections so that he could still keep them around and slowly let them go. Saskia Gras 2019

Dit is een selectie schilderijen die ik de afgelopen jaren heb gemaakt. Voor mij functioneren deze als beeldonderzoek en inspiratie voor 3D-werk. Te zien geweest: Bermuda Maakhaven Open Studio, Den Haag (2024 en 2026)

Wat je op de foto niet ziet, is het subtiele ritmische getik. Het hoofd van Loepel is een bewerkte koepel waarin een touwtje eindeloos ronddraait. Met zachte tikken raakt het de wand en tekent vluchtige lussen in de lucht. De vorm balanceert tussen abstractie en herkenning als een oog, een hoofd, holle wereldbol, een sprong door een hoepel.

Een groene bal draait achter een rood figuur en verschijnt en verdwijnt in een spiegelende achtergrond. Het werk speelt met zichtbaarheid, terugtrekking en innerlijke beleving. Te zien geweest: Festival Tweetakt, Utrecht (2025)

Een vibrerende bal zet de blauwe lijnachtige constructie in beweging, waardoor het geheel een performatief karakter krijgt. De gele cirkels worden druk aan het dansen gebracht door de trillingen.

Windy is een luchtige sculptuur met een centrale toren van verticale ventilatoren, waardoor blauwe linten fladderen en de sculptuur ook een draaiende beweging maakt. Het werk is ontwikkeld tijdens een zomerresidentie in Frankfurt, waar de lichte en speelse sfeer goed tot zijn recht kwam. Bovenin vormt een ruimtelijke compositie van draden een tegengestelde beweging, waardoor een samenspel van lijnen ontstaat. Het werk belichaamt een sierlijke, licht ironische aanwezigheid die de atmosfeer van de ruimte beïnvloedt.

In deze installatie rollen ballen rond die vanzelf kriskras door de ruimte rollen. De bezoekers kunnen op de bankjes van springveren zitten. Dit was te zien geweest tijdens de expositie Your Playground dat met museumnacht Amsterdam open was in ARTI ET AMICITIAE.

Voor tentoonstelling Must See, in opdracht voor het Zuiderzee Museum Op de dijk staat de bewegende sculptuur van kunstenaar Leslie Nagel. Met het oer-Hollandse beeld van de molen in gedachten, heeft zij een door de wind aangedreven, kinetische installatie gemaakt.

‘Room to Live’ is a duo exhibition by Leslie Nagel (NL) and David Powell (UK) The title of the exhibition is taken from a song by Manchester band The Fall (1976-2018) and reflects both artists shared interests in energy, movement, sound, music, tainted glamour and the hand crafted object in a post digital world. The artists works are not a refutation of the digital, more an investigation into the consequences of living in the computer age. Once upon a time television and radio were mediums with huge experimental potential, nobody really knew what these mediums would birth which made them irresistible as the language had not been learnt, soon enough ‘regulation’ set in and programme schedules needed to be filled. So here we are perpetually sharing and consuming images, endlessly texting through cracked screens. Nagel and Powell take their time with things, they’re both equally fascinated with lo-fi analogue processes, things that leave indelible traces of subjectivity and inwardness, a give and take between skill and (de)skill, learning and unlearning. A healthy suspicion of established institutions can compel redirection so a restart can take place, the studio becomes a testing ground for necessary and urgent challenges to common held presumptions. Is the past tomorrow? History ushered into the present tense? In 1843 Søren Kierkegaard wrote a book about repetition; that it was a kind of ‘recollection forwards’. Nostalgia is too often underestimated. Do forms of time travel exist outside of sci-fi? There remains a collective desire to possess things when you know the object of your gaze and desire cannot be grasped. Just out of Reach. The exhibition will consist of sculptures, paintings and drawings that embody an attitude that strips away the fluff of the mainstream revealing something previously lost about to be reclaimed, a language? An escape route? A temporary journey into pure unequivocal joy? And when you smile. You know you blind me. To all the horrors I see. David Powell, October 2021

‘Room to Live’ is a duo exhibition by Leslie Nagel (NL) and David Powell (UK) The title of the exhibition is taken from a song by Manchester band The Fall (1976-2018) and reflects both artists shared interests in energy, movement, sound, music, tainted glamour and the hand crafted object in a post digital world. The artists works are not a refutation of the digital, more an investigation into the consequences of living in the computer age. Once upon a time television and radio were mediums with huge experimental potential, nobody really knew what these mediums would birth which made them irresistible as the language had not been learnt, soon enough ‘regulation’ set in and programme schedules needed to be filled. So here we are perpetually sharing and consuming images, endlessly texting through cracked screens. Nagel and Powell take their time with things, they’re both equally fascinated with lo-fi analogue processes, things that leave indelible traces of subjectivity and inwardness, a give and take between skill and (de)skill, learning and unlearning. A healthy suspicion of established institutions can compel redirection so a restart can take place, the studio becomes a testing ground for necessary and urgent challenges to common held presumptions. Is the past tomorrow? History ushered into the present tense? In 1843 Søren Kierkegaard wrote a book about repetition; that it was a kind of ‘recollection forwards’. Nostalgia is too often underestimated. Do forms of time travel exist outside of sci-fi? There remains a collective desire to possess things when you know the object of your gaze and desire cannot be grasped. Just out of Reach. The exhibition will consist of sculptures, paintings and drawings that embody an attitude that strips away the fluff of the mainstream revealing something previously lost about to be reclaimed, a language? An escape route? A temporary journey into pure unequivocal joy? And when you smile. You know you blind me. To all the horrors I see. David Powell, October 2021

Onderdeel van de openstelling tijdens IPIHAN#10 in Rotterdam

Gekleurde geplisseerde stof draait rond

Verrijdbare sculptuur met een draaiend element aan de bovenzijde, omwikkeld met gekleurde draden. De pion heeft een speels en licht absurd karakter alsof het zin heeft in een feestje. De sculptuur reageert op zijn omgeving afhankelijk van positie en interactie. Te zien geweest: Out and About, NEST, Den Haag (2021)Room to Live met David Powell, NL=US Art, Rotterdam

Zie video: https://vimeo.com/373405072

Lindenhout

limewood

lime wood

water colors on paper

openingsperformance, and life is over there

solo at Fons Welters

installation at rijksacademie open

installation at rijksakademie

installation at fons welters

installation shown at rijksakademie open

lime wood, beas wax

beelden tentoonstelling galerie Ramakers

botanische studie

draadbeeld

particuliere collectie

tekening

muurschildering galerie ramakers Den Haag

Caldic Collectie, Wassenaar

opdracht Particulier Haarlem aan het Spaarne

collectie kunstenaar

Caldic Collectie, Wassenaar

acryl op papier