ART Made OPEN – English

Space to look around | Geriëtte Willemsen 

The expert I spoke with mentioned “being in a bind. That was the inspiration to do something with rope. That twisted, sturdy ship’s rope. Still, I thought that was too obvious, so I made it out of ceramic. As a material, it’s easy to shape but ultimately fragile. The dark color and rough texture reinforce that feeling. There is space between the forms. You can see through them. At first, the foundation is clear and under control, but later things start to unravel, just like in real life. Then things happen that you don’t expect or don’t understand. I therefore want people to come to better understand others through my work. No one consciously chooses this. 

This is how it can feel | Hannah Biesaart

Mental changes can often be accompanied by a feeling of heaviness. You feel heavy. Not just in your head, but in your body as well. Even something small, like getting out of bed, can feel like too much. As if just lifting your head is already too heavy. I’ve depicted this feeling with a head resting on a hand. This was my first idea, and it stayed with me, partly because of my own experience and the stories of others about their struggles. I chose ceramics because it’s a medium that allows you to express emotion well. The material moves with your hands. With an extra layer, the cracks have appeared on the face. That shows the weight. I hope that people look at my work and think: ‘I’m not the only one.’

What’s stopping you? | Imko Verhoef

In an in-depth conversation with a lived experience expert, she told me that you ‘build a wall in your mind’. To me, that didn’t sound like a well-built, smooth wall, but like something dangerous, cold, and hard, that holds you back. A barrier. I wanted to use that coldness and hardness in my work. Building a wall felt too literal to me. I want people to stop and think for a moment when they see a work of art. It’s better to convey a feeling rather than directly appeal to the imagination. So I took a welding course and started working with metal. It had the sharpness and coldness I was looking for. While creating my work, I also discovered something: the metal parts make a cold, yet harmonious sound when they strike each other. That sound can evoke tension. As if something is clashing inside. I thought that was a beautiful discovery. 

Fungi  | Murron Janzen

Fungi is inspired by extraordinary stories. One of these stories is about the Lotus-Eaters from Greek mythology. In this story, Odysseus and his crew arrive on an island where they encounter the lotus plant. The fruits of this plant are as sweet as honey. Anyone who eats them falls into a narcotic sleep and never wants to go home again. In this way, a mental shift can slowly take over your feelings, as if a blanket were falling over you. You lose your grip, without knowing exactly when it began. It also refers to a fungus. This fungus acts as a parasite in insects. When an insect becomes infected, the fungus takes control. The insect then no longer has control over itself.   

Do you recognize this feeling? | Letecia Grotens

The great thing about materials is that you can work with them. I prefer to do that in a variety of ways. In this case, I did that with metal, the material I work with most often. The search for a way to make it rust faster was very interesting. And it worked out well. It took a while, but it’s now completely blue instead of copper-colored. The colors and changes in the material show how something can slowly take root and occupy more space in your mind. This inspiration came from conversations with people who have lived through similar experiences, which were very valuable. It invites you to recognize your own feelings in it. It shows how thoughts and who you really are sometimes get mixed up. The round and simple shapes are open, in the hope that everyone will recognize something in them. It feels different for everyone.

Thick skin, clean sheen | Lieke van Dongeren

I usually work with ceramics or recycled materials, but this time I chose photography. I had an image in my head, and I set out to capture it. I wanted to give this form using different materials later on. During the preparation phase, I took about eighty photos, and they turned out to be very powerful. I then selected three of them for my work in the container. The images clearly convey the feeling of someone who is struggling. People with lived experience spoke of ‘being locked up’ and feeling like a monster. Perhaps you recognize this feeling. That you feel small and vulnerable, even though no one can tell from the outside. I tried to capture this in images. If you haven’t experienced it yourself, it feels distant. You realize just how big that gap can be. Between what you see and what someone is actually experiencing. I therefore hope that my work helps people to better empathize with others. 

Asking for help | Ricardo Koppejan 

How does it feel to be stuck, as if you have nowhere left to go? And how do you show that? I prefer to work with eyes, because they say so much. When the rest is silent, eyes are actually always speaking. They can plead for help. The people with lived experience I spoke to talked about ‘being stuck’. Not daring to ask for help. I wanted to capture that. A bit like how I felt during the lockdown. That was a tough time. I got stuck quite often in the creative process, but I’m satisfied now. It was all about the eyes… they had to be there. It shows how hard it can be to ask for help. At the same time, it invites you to look more closely at others. Because sometimes a single simple question can make all the difference: Are you okay?

Zombi  | Murron Janzen 

The two heads seem to be melting together. They hang heavily and move slowly. It feels as if you’re in a kind of sleep or trance, completely numb. Your head becomes still and empty. As if a blanket were draped over you. You feel less and lose yourself a little. This is what depression can feel like. The name Zombi comes from a history of slavery. The word was used for people who no longer had control over their own lives. They felt little and were far removed from themselves. In Haitian folklore, people believed that a body could move without a soul. This stemmed from a belief system called Vodou. Spirits could influence people and take over their bodies. This image captures that feeling. As if you’re still there, but no longer fully present.

I have to write | Lieze Marieze Tazelaar 

For me, text, reading, and poetry are all a medium. Forms emerge from them. But it works the other way around, too. Sometimes I create an image, and then text finds its way in after all. Starting from language and words feels most natural to me. I have to write; I can’t avoid it. Beneath the world we see, there are many layers. I try to bring those to the surface. I ask a lot of questions and I read about them. You can see that reflected in this work. You don’t necessarily have to read it; the sheer number of words together already has an effect. I hope people see questions or phrases they recognize from their own lives. And that this leads to less loneliness and more recognition. Because many people have questions, but don’t realize others do too.

Touch it  | Leticia Mendes Dias 

The container where my work is exhibited is about change and the search for mental stability. For me, that phase is over, but I, too, once found myself in that struggle. My work is the ceramic translation of that struggle and search: the feeling is always in flux and seems to have no end. The lines in my work therefore seem to move, and I hope people will touch them. That can also bring a sense of calm. I deliberately chose an abstract form and let my hands do the work. That’s how the waves came to be. It’s nice to make them with your hands; I really enjoyed that. The shapes and lines invite you to touch them. Through that contact, you can feel for yourself what it does to you. It can bring peace, but it can also evoke restlessness or raise questions. I hope you touch my work and ask yourself: ‘What am I actually feeling?’

The universal distress signal | Camila Ferrabone Ledezma 

••• — ••• 

People who need help are often vulnerable. They don’t readily show their feelings to others. That’s why I used the well-known SOS distress signal. I also made the artwork very small, just 1 by 2 centimeters, so you have to look more closely. That’s also the message: pay close attention to yourself and the people around you. We often realize too late that something isn’t right, whether with ourselves or with someone else. With a magnifying glass, you can see the details better. You see the fine lines and sharp edges in the red material. The work invites you to look closely. That makes it more personal. Even if you don’t immediately recognize yourself in the work, the experience still has an effect on you.

Internal struggle | Anne Hovinga 

Through my work, I want to show the struggle. The struggle in your mind, with yourself. Everyone experiences it in their own way. A vulnerable approach helps us recognize that struggle, even in others. The inspiration came after we made a short film about loss for another class. In that film, we also captured the ‘heaviness.’ I set up a camera on a tripod and walked around the room. An experiment, with myself in the lead role. In doing so, I used my body and posture to represent the heaviness. I made a selection from those images. Viewers are free to interpret them in their own way. To create their own feelings. If they, too, dare to show their vulnerable side, they can

A symbol  | Zus Houben 

Why a flag? It’s a kind of sign. A flag communicates as a recognizable symbol. It reveals something to the outside world. The lines start out straight and become tangled further on. You can now interpret it for yourself. The work certainly draws on my own experience, but it’s not a solution for me. Above all, I hope it evokes a feeling in you. Or gives you the impulse to regain your footing. Why a flag? It’s a kind of signboard. A flag communicates as a recognizable symbol. It reveals something to the outside world. The lines start out straight and become tangled further on. You can now see your own interpretation in it. There is certainly personal experience in the work, but it is not a solution for myself. Above all, I hope it gives you a feeling. Or an impulse to regain a sense of control.

I have to write  | Lieze Marieze Tazelaar 

For me, text, reading, and poetry are all a medium. Forms emerge from them. But it works the other way around, too. Sometimes I create an image, and then text finds its way in after all. Starting from language and words feels most natural to me. I have to write; I can’t avoid it. Beneath the world we see, there are many layers. I try to bring those to the surface. I ask a lot of questions and I read about them. You can see that reflected in this work. You don’t necessarily have to read it; the sheer number of words together already has an effect. I hope people see questions or phrases they recognize from their own lives. And that this leads to less loneliness and more recognition. Because many people have questions, but don’t realiz

INTERIOR

When you step inside, you enter a space that feels like a bedroom. A place that can be safe and familiar, but can also turn into a place where you feel alone. The floor is tiled at an angle, causing you to literally lose your balance. This represents how it can feel when you’re not mentally stable. In the room are large shoes that stand perfectly upright. When you step into them, you regain your balance. The soft walls provide a sense of security, but can also feel like a wall that cuts you off from the outside world. Light streams in from above. This beam of light represents hope and a possible way out. The space shows that, despite imbalance and isolation, there are ways to find balance again.

EXTERIOR

On the outside of the container are words that seem to be opposites, such as growth and stillness, hope and doubt. These words show that mental health isn’t black and white. Between these extremes, there is room for nuance. Together, they paint a picture of different feelings and experiences that can coexist.  

The colorful background and the layering of the text highlight just how complex this phase can be. It shows that a person can experience multiple feelings at the same time.  

It invites us to reflect on these contradictions and to acknowledge that mental health does not follow a single path. 

INTERVIEW

INTERIOR

Stepping inside this container, you enter a bedroom. The bed, where so much time was spent, is now empty. The room contains reminders of a difficult period, but also sources of motivation to keep going. On the wall hang small boxes containing phrases and quotes. Students from different years have each chosen a phrase and translated it into a visual work, based on what they felt and imagined. On the back wall, three different texts can be found. These offer a glimpse into a diary. Themes such as support from those around you, a light in the dark and the feeling that your body is yours again are reflected here. The space invites you to reflect on this experience. Welcome to this bedroom.

EXTERIOR

The large two-toned tree symbolizes growth, connection, and moving forward with life. Just like a tree that sprouts new leaves again, even after the harshest winters. The contrast of white against black symbolizes hope during and after a dark period. It shows that light and dark can coexist. The container is bright pink. This color draws attention and emphasizes that the subject should be visible and deserves more attention.

INTERVIEW

For this phase, students from the Academy of Pop Culture in Leeuwarden were interviewed about the creative process. They describe how their ideas came about, how they collaborated, and how they gave shape to themes such as recovery and connection.  

Does this fit into the broader concept of the container?  

Femme: “Yes, we all started from the idea of picking up your life again. One of our first ideas was a mattress: that represents getting out of bed and moving forward. But that was still too limited. So we hung little cabinets on the wall, among other things, each of which is a personal canvas. Now it all comes together beautifully.”  

How did you divide up the work?  

Femme: “It just happened that way. At first, we worked during class, then we continued outside of class. That’s when this group formed, with everyone having their own role. While we were creating, students kept coming to us with ideas. We’d discuss them and bring them to life. So there are nine cabinets with quotes: we made four of them, and the other five were made by others.” Meike: “A teacher said that the exterior, specifically, would be right up my alley. I mainly create highly visual fine art and already had some ideas. So I got to work on the tree.” 

Where do the words on the boxes come from?  

Jasmijn: “You read the quote and find the answer inside. The inspiration came from a museum I visited. After that, I started coming up with quotes in the middle of the night. Conversations with people who’ve been through similar experiences, as well as my own past, helped with that. Everyone who made a box chose a line. Femme: “At first, I mainly worked with other people’s experiences. When I went to choose a quote from Jasmijn’s list, I discovered one that I could relate to personally. So that’s the one I used.”  

What do you want people to feel in ‘your’ container?  

Jasmijn: “We’ve made the space feel like home, so everyone can feel welcome. The main message in the container is that we need to help each other. That you should dare to ask for help instead of bottling up your feelings. And that it’s okay to talk about it. We think it’s important for people to know this. That’s why I included the helplines you can turn to in my little box.  

Jannes: “The work you see is truly ours. It reflects our personal perspectives and our own view of this phase.” Meike: “That’s why the collaboration among all the students was so valuable.” Femme: “In the end, 

the whole school got involved, about twenty people in total. It was a real community.”