In a world where we get inundated with commercials, political promises, media hypes and self-promotion on social media, I often ask myself “What is really true?” If we had to believe every single message that confronts us, we would end up in a parallel universe where everything seems prettier than reality. And what do I make myself believe? In my recent works of art I show this contemporary universe by endless layers of messages and snapshot photography from my experiences while roaming the globe. By mixing these with fiction elements I represent my “society ironic” passion for this ambivalent world of today of which I am definitively a product.
WHY NOT? by Samara Sampaio de Oliveira
“The subtle and penetrating transformation of consumers into merchandise is the most important characteristic of our society. We live in liquid times, nothing is made to last”.
Zygmunt Bauman defines the zeitgeist with these words. The works of Bram Reijnders capture this spirit and invite us to join his fascinating, although overwhelming, journey into liquid art.
Bram is a free spirit. A man in “search”. Not necessarily for answers. A “question” is his motto: “Why not?”. Mostly interested to experience, he takes Europe, India and Brazil as stages for his life act. This rebellious passion for life, excitement and beauty started long ago and now takes shape as works of art. In fact it started when young Bram, as an art lover, got ill after letting a painting go to another buyer and grew to changing his life and diving into the art world. First as an artist, then as dealer, he experienced all the aspects of the business, his artist´s lives and dilemmas. Always secretly painting and letting the search for beauty mature in his soul. Why not?
MUCH TOO MUCH by Eric Kaare
How would a grey, mousy Northern European office clerk find himself easily transported to the humid, sweetly feverish, all consuming, carnival-heated tumble dryer of Rio de Janeiro?
Well, if you are living in the Netherlands, you go off the motorway grid, head through the woods, drive past the main building of a former mental health institution, where you almost expect seeing Van Gogh slouching down the neat institutional pathways, and just follow the road right to the end.
Going there I had been told that I was about to visit a creative person, and it was slightly ironic to find him settled in a place where in the past, the ill adjusted were kept and probably sought treated into conforming to society’s rules and regulations.
It was pissing down with rain! Our driver only had two modes at his disposal; full forward or brake to a standstill, and my fellow passenger had long given up on guiding duties in favour of holding on to her handbag and a huge handkerchief for dear life.