It   is   said   of   Botticelli   that   he   would   regularly   fling   a   sponge   at   a   canvas   and   look   at   the   result;   often   this was   the   start   of   a   landscape   painting.   Landscapes   are   also   a   key   theme   in   my   paintings,   in   which chance   and   the   spontaneity   of   the   moment   play   an   important   part.   The   landscapes   are   not   identifiable as   such,   but   depend   on   the   elements   that   define   a   landscape   –   for   instance   the   shape   of   the   land   and the   man-made   or   natural   structures   most   frequently   found   within   it,   such   as   light,   water   and   earth.   I   also make   use   of   landmarks   such   as   fences,   walls,   trees,   plants,   posts   or   buildings.   My   landscapes   mainly consist   of   these   elements,   but   they   may   also   be   made   up   of   memories   or   fleeting   glimpses   from   cars, trains,   books,   magazines,   television,   films,   journeys,   holidays   or   whatever.   Increasingly,   my   work   also includes   images   from   my   immediate   dwelling   and   working   environment.   All   my   paintings   can   therefore be   summed   up   as   ‘LANDMARKS’   –   points   of   identification   in   my   own   life.   The   images   must   become detached   from   their   everyday   existence.   Many   of   the   paintings   are   created   on   an   impulse,   sometimes on   the   basis   of   a   drawing,   a   sketch,   a   small   watercolour   or   a   photograph.   My   canvases   are   often   pre- treated   or   primed.   After   applying   various   colours   and   layers   of   paint,   I   distil   the   final   forms   –   painting things   out   and   looking   at   what   is   left,   seeking   a   form   that   is   right.   The   end   results   are   purely   abstract. The   elements   that   come   into   play   as   I   paint   are   originality,   spontaneity,   improvisation,   chance   and   risk. The   paintings   thus   ‘paint   themselves’,   as   it   were.   In   these   eight   paintings   the   focus   is   on   colour.   Apart from   paint   I   have   used   various   other   materials   such   as   salt,   lead,   aerosols,   jute,   varnish,   gel,   etc.   The paintings   could   therefore   be   described   as   ‘matter   paintings’,   a   movement   to   which   such   famous   artists as   Wols,   Tàpies,   De   Kooning   and   Picasso   have   all   contributed.   Freedom   to   experiment   with   various materials   is   important   for   the   development   of   my   paintings,   but   is   not   an   aim   in   itself.   The   materials   I use   must   clearly   be   supplementary.   This   increases   the   distance   between   the   actual   landscape   and   the image   on   the   canvas,   and   the   result   is   an   autonomous   landscape   of   abstract   images   and   forms.   Rather than   follow   a   preset   plan,   I   prefer   to   let   my   next   move   be   determined   by   whatever   forms,   colours   or structures   happen   to   have   emerged.   Sometimes   all   this   results   in   new   forms   or   paintings.   The   viewer can   interpret   my   paintings   for   himself.   This   is   one   reason   why   they   have   numbers   rather   than   titles   –   a title   would   send   the   viewer’s   thoughts   in   a   particular   direction.   The   canvases’   appeal   lies   in   their   poetry and   mysteriousness,   which   cannot   be   expressed   in   words.   I   hope   the   viewer   will   share   my   sense   of traveling   through   a   dream   world   or   fantastic   landscape.   Everyone   is   free   to   respond   to   the   paintings with   his   own   feelings,   images,   sensations   or   whatever,   for   the   poetry   of   landscape   can   be   found anywhere,   by   anyone   who   seeks   it.   As   Georges   Braque   so   wisely   said,   ‘in   art   there   is   only   one   thing that matters – that which cannot be explained’. Jeroen van Herten
It   is   said   of   Botticelli   that   he   would   regularly   fling   a   sponge   at   a canvas    and    look    at    the    result;    often    this    was    the    start    of    a landscape    painting.    Landscapes    are    also    a    key    theme    in    my paintings,   in   which   chance   and   the   spontaneity   of   the   moment play   an   important   part.   The   landscapes   are   not   identifiable   as such,   but   depend   on   the   elements   that   define   a   landscape   –   for instance   the   shape   of   the   land   and   the   man-made   or   natural structures   most   frequently   found   within   it,   such   as   light,   water   and earth.   I   also   make   use   of   landmarks   such   as   fences,   walls,   trees, plants,   posts   or   buildings.   My   landscapes   mainly   consist   of   these elements,   but   they   may   also   be   made   up   of   memories   or   fleeting glimpses   from   cars,   trains,   books,   magazines,   television,   films, journeys,    holidays    or    whatever.    Increasingly,    my    work    also includes    images    from    my    immediate    dwelling    and    working environment.   All   my   paintings   can   therefore   be   summed   up   as ‘LANDMARKS’    –    points    of    identification    in    my    own    life.    The images   must   become   detached   from   their   everyday   existence. Many   of   the   paintings   are   created   on   an   impulse,   sometimes   on the    basis    of    a    drawing,    a    sketch,    a    small    watercolour    or    a photograph.   My   canvases   are   often   pre-treated   or   primed.   After applying   various   colours   and   layers   of   paint,   I   distil   the   final   forms –   painting   things   out   and   looking   at   what   is   left,   seeking   a   form that   is   right.   The   end   results   are   purely   abstract.   The   elements that    come    into    play    as    I    paint    are    originality,    spontaneity, improvisation,     chance     and     risk.     The     paintings     thus     ‘paint themselves’,   as   it   were.   In   these   eight   paintings   the   focus   is   on colour.   Apart   from   paint   I   have   used   various   other   materials   such as   salt,   lead,   aerosols,   jute,   varnish,   gel,   etc.   The   paintings   could therefore    be    described    as    ‘matter    paintings’,    a    movement    to which    such    famous    artists    as    Wols,   Tàpies,    De    Kooning    and Picasso   have   all   contributed.   Freedom   to   experiment   with   various materials   is   important   for   the   development   of   my   paintings,   but   is not    an    aim    in    itself.    The    materials    I    use    must    clearly    be supplementary.   This   increases   the   distance   between   the   actual landscape   and   the   image   on   the   canvas,   and   the   result   is   an autonomous    landscape    of    abstract    images    and    forms.    Rather than    follow    a    preset    plan,    I    prefer    to    let    my    next    move    be determined   by   whatever   forms,   colours   or   structures   happen   to have    emerged.    Sometimes    all    this    results    in    new    forms    or paintings.   The   viewer   can   interpret   my   paintings   for   himself.   This is   one   reason   why   they   have   numbers   rather   than   titles   –   a   title would   send   the   viewer’s   thoughts   in   a   particular   direction.   The canvases’   appeal   lies   in   their   poetry   and   mysteriousness,   which cannot   be   expressed   in   words.   I   hope   the   viewer   will   share   my sense   of   traveling   through   a   dream   world   or   fantastic   landscape. Everyone   is   free   to   respond   to   the   paintings   with   his   own   feelings, images,   sensations   or   whatever,   for   the   poetry   of   landscape   can be   found   anywhere,   by   anyone   who   seeks   it. As   Georges   Braque so   wisely   said,   ‘in   art   there   is   only   one   thing   that   matters   –   that which cannot be explained’. Jeroen van Herten