my father

My father was a musician, teacher and organist. I drew him as I often remember him: silent, withdrawn into his own thoughts.

my mother

Mother at the Floralia
During a visit to the Floralia, my mother became tired and sat down on a bench while my father and I were nearby. Before painting her, I placed a few white lilacs beside her. They were cut from our garden, just as white lilacs had once been hastily gathered from the parish garden in Oude Pekela for her wedding bouquet in 1943. The flowers quietly connected two moments in one life, separated by decades.

my mother 1995

MA

Larka, Age four
Holding a few freshly picked flowers beside her tricycle. A quiet moment that later became one of the starting points of my lifelong fascination with growth, nature and memory.

ELS AND MAILA— First Encounter

clay model, later polyester

The birth of my third daughter, Maila.

I was not interested in making a sculpture about motherhood.

I wanted to capture something much smaller and much greater:
the first silent recognition between mother and child.

Every parent knows that moment.
It lasts only a few seconds, but it remains for a lifetime.

Samar – Age Nine
Pencil on paper

Children rarely stand still. Rather than asking Samar to pose, I tried to capture the energy that made him unmistakably himself. Some portraits are about likeness; others are about movement.

Ute

Bronze

When I sculpt those who are close to me, I am not trying to make a perfect resemblance. I am searching for something less visible: character, vulnerability and the silent moments that often define a person more than words.

Every portrait becomes a memory cast in bronze.

OLD ARABPortrait of an Old Arab

When I was living in Dubai, I wanted to cast a bronze portrait of my daughter Artane. To my surprise, nobody around me knew the traditional lost-wax casting process. There was no foundry to rely on and no one who could guide me.

So I decided to find out for myself.

Before risking the portrait of my daughter, I first modelled an imaginary old man's head in wax. Around the wax I built a plaster investment mould and left it outside in the desert sun for almost thr...

Artane, age seven
Bronze.polyester
Every portrait begins long before the clay. This sculpture carries a memory that cannot be seen in the bronze itself.

ARTANE (Spijker)
One summer afternoon at the beach. I rarely painted children as "cute". I tried to paint who they were. Artane always had her own strength and character, which earned her the nickname "Spijker" ("Nail").

Merel

This sculpture was created during a workshop with the Dutch sculptor Gerard van der Leede, whose craftsmanship, artistic vision and deep knowledge of sculpture I greatly admired. Being able to work alongside him was a memorable experience.

The model was a young woman named Merel, whom I had never met before. I was drawn to her natural posture and quiet self-confidence. Rather than pursuing photographic likeness, I wanted to capture her presence.

The original sculpture was modelled in cl...

King Willem-Alexander

wax

Sculpted the day after the inauguration of King Willem-Alexander in 2013.

Rather than portraying a finished symbol of monarchy, I wanted to capture the transition itself: the moment when a man steps into a role that carries centuries of history.

The contrast between the finished portrait and the rough surrounding form reflects that transformation.

MAILA

Oil on canvas

Some portraits are not about resemblance but about presence.

Maila was still very young. I remember the quiet moment more than the conversation. She sat on a simple chair, looking at me without posing.

I painted neither a child nor an ideal. I painted a moment that has never left me.

Ineke droomt van NZe

acrylic on canvas

Every portrait begins with observation.

This painting captures Ineke in a moment of quiet happiness, surrounded by light, flowering trees and the sea. It is a portrait of a person I live with, love and admire.

ineke en tommy2

Ineke — Inner Garden

acrylic on canvas

Years later, I painted Ineke again.

This time I was no longer interested in resemblance alone. I wanted to place her inside an imagined landscape where memory, nature and affection became one.

The garden is not a place that exists. It is an emotional landscape.

30 years
Self-Portrait – First Oil Painting

This was the first oil painting I ever made.

I could not afford canvas, so I prepared a sheet of paper with ordinary wall paint as a primer and painted directly onto it. When it was finished, I framed it behind glass.

Rather than creating a modern self-portrait, I challenged myself to paint in the tradition of the old masters. Looking back, I can see that the nose is slightly too long, but that no longer matters. What remains is the memory of a youn...