Martine Johanna

Making work is a need I’ve always felt; from my first scribbles to anything else I’ve ever made. It helps me to think and process realities that are hard for me to deal with – not that every thought stream is in there though. It’s mostly an outlet for things that I feel words don’t do them justice. I love visual language so much because it is a realm in itself.

The figures are fictitious women, reconstructed models from my own photography. Somehow, they have some resemblance with myself – a natural side effect. Through them, I process my own circumstances, as they mainly are the heroines of my storylines translated from reality to imagination.

So far, I rarely painted men, as ‘she’ is the main character in most of my concepts. There are some male bodies in my drawings, but that has to do with the difference in expression and technique.

Painting and drawing work well – but I also enjoy writing, art direction, architecture, interior design, working conceptually, and also coaching students. Anything that has to do with the positivity of the making process is an outlet, whether it’s art, music, film, acting, dancing, woodworking, building, designing, math, research, writing, sports or helping someone out; it all has value and consists of both struggle and fulfilment.

I always prefer dialogue and openness to linear thinking. I see possibilities – I believe in grey over black and white – in humour, perspective and retrospective. We are not owners of one single truth; we’re all here for a single blink of an eye. In that second, we should have something positive to contribute that comes from our own strengths, and not from our fears or prejudices. This train of thought has gotten me into severe trouble but has also helped me gain perspective in my youth as a teen living in a very conservative religious area.

I write, think, visit places, have conversations with friends and fellow artists, and then do photo shoots roughly based on topic matters that I’ve been involved in. I rework those photos and use them as a starting point. Then I spend my time painting (with acrylic paint) and reinterpret the image until it’s done.

When I work, I don’t consciously involve the spectator in my decision-making. I intuitively balance and process my own way of working, including in the storytelling aspects. So these are inherently my own types of female.

I started out drawing and when I felt I needed colour and size, I slowly switched to painting. Those are my main outlets but I also love music, dancing, film, architecture, and interior design; also, clothing (in its least commercial form) fascinates me.

I started to teach part-time nine years ago. I mainly focus on teaching my students creative research; investigating the meaning behind an image so that they learn to slow down and derive more meaning from creators. It also helps them to express their own work into a bigger scope of words and visuals – they learn about being critical from an open and attentive point a view.
I teach in Fashion and Visual Culture, helping students create their own stories through image, and eventually, through film. I also give workshops to trigger imagination and create new visions for film concepts. All of these aspects feed my own enthusiasm for the creative process as well, and it is very fulfilling to see them grow and expand their imaginations and possibilities – I love my students a lot.

Although we are in Amsterdam every week, my husband (artist Louis Reith) and I actually moved from there to a house/studio in the countryside. I lived in Amsterdam for twelve years and thought we would never leave. But for many artists, the city has gotten terribly expensive and very touristy. Last year, we had the chance to buy our dream house in the middle of nature, which also had space for a studio – I redesigned the interior, we broke down some walls, and now it’s even bigger. All windows look over our garden and its huge trees. The house was inspired by mid-century architecture, so it has all the style elements but not the age. At first, I was homesick, and then Louis was. But now we wouldn’t want to leave, it is so beautiful, clean and spacious in here! We can go to Amsterdam whenever we want to enjoy it, not endure it.

My favourite places in the city, after KochxBos Gallery, are the Stedelijk Museum, the Film Museum, Foam and Grimm gallery. Willet Holthuysen is my favourite historical house. Regarding food picks, I recommend a Vietnamese restaurant in Leidsestraat called Ichi, De Tolbar and Tolhuistuin’s cafe. The best markets can be found at Noordermarkt and IJ-Hallen and when it’s time for guilty pleasures, watch 3D movies at Pathé Bijlmer Arena.

The exhibition before this, titled Something’s Wrong, was in New York. I made it during and just after the passing of my mother, my husband’s mother and a dear friend of him. Our world was shaken; we had seen terrible things that couldn’t be unseen. That exhibition was like a flight for holding on to the past and denying the new reality that we had to face. Thus far, all the shows are connected through my own experiences and universal themes. Coincidentally, the show’s concept ran concurrently with the election of the new president of the United States, and the loss of the democratic ideals. We were in the country during the pre-election debates and felt the dread; some of that stuck in my mind, I think, seeing the topic of the show.

In October/November, there will be a new show in New York at Massey & Klein in the Lower East Side. I’m very excited about that, it’s in development!