Annemarie Vink

Still Lifes as Reflections of Everyday Life by Rob Perrée,

“Actually, I’m an old-fashioned artist.” She says it almost apologetically as she watches me look at her large still lifes. In doing so, she overlooks the fact that while the still life does date back to ancient Egypt—and thus seems old-fashioned—the genre has never since disappeared from art history. In the 17th century, Dutch still life became world-famous. There’s a reason for its enduring popularity. Still life may have a static theme, but the way it has developed as a genre over time is far from static. It has many variations and interpretations. These have brilliantly shielded it from being labeled “old-fashioned.”

Years ago, Annemarie Vink consciously chose to take up painting after a long period of working in graphic arts. That choice stemmed from the many possibilities inherent in painting: the grand gesture, the potential for nuance, the use of color, the experimental potential of paint, the many forms of layering and transparency, the ability to paint over existing images and thus achieve a more tactile surface—these are all qualities that pushed the subject matter of her paintings into the background. That is why she chose to stay close to home. Her immediate, everyday surroundings were rich enough. Still life may not be the only solution, but it is a logical one. Didn’t Cézanne once use still life to translate his abstract intentions into a figurative form? Weren’t Picasso and Braque the ones who turned to still life to realize their Cubist ideas?

The still life as a means, as a way to take artistic steps or as a way to express oneself within a particular discipline. But for Vink, it is more than that. She also wants to develop the genre itself. Seventeenth-century artists such as Jan Breughel the Elder, Willem van Aelst, and Rachel Ruysch sought, through their floral still lifes, to blur reality and make it more beautiful. Vanitas reigned supreme. Annemarie Vink seems to be doing the opposite. Her dandelions in a vase are partly wilted. To emphasize this even more, she paints a shiny, golden ribbon next to them as a contrast. Her bouquet of dark berries includes a daisy that has seen better days. The deep black background confirms this. She does not perfect reality; she reveals its shortcomings. Perhaps it is even possible to interpret these canvases as works in which death is deliberately placed alongside the fullness of life. In an elongated, horizontal work, Vink takes it a step further. Here, there is no centered composition. The various objects, drawn from different sources, are placed seemingly at random next to one another, like a story searching in vain for a chronological narrative. The painting is comparable to another still life in which a gleaming teapot demands attention. Here, too, the surroundings are cluttered. Here, too, reality reveals its (ugly) side. Vink does not title most of her works. There is a practical reason for this: she finds it difficult to come up with good titles. Ultimately, she is happy with this, because she has discovered that her canvases—since they do not strive for perfection and thus give the impression that the person responsible for the “sloppy” staging has hurriedly left the room—stimulate the viewer’s imagination.

Since Annemarie Vink is primarily concerned with further exploring her painterly possibilities and pushing and shifting the boundaries of a genre, it’s not inconceivable that her next series of works will have a different theme. However, it will always be a theme that intersects with her daily life. She does not want to be an artist of grand ideas and ingenious concepts. She maintains this down-to-earth attitude in the art world as well. She loves her work; she has no desire whatsoever to jump on trends in order to make her work more successful. In the privacy of her studio, she paints a reflection of her world.

Rob Perrée