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I don’t make things for society but I make them in society

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Adriaan Nette(1950)

Location: Clickcentrum te

Deventer, 13 May 2011

Education: Vrije Academie

Psychopolis, The Hague

Graphical Techniques

www.adriaannette.nl

et's start at the beginning. Where did you train?'I studied at the Vrije Academie (Free Academy) in The Hague, when it was still called Psychop-olis. Those were different times – it was still a pretty academic institution. Psychopolis started in 1948 and had a very committed attitude. I followed a four-year programme there from 1971 to 1975 that I could more or less put to-gether myself. So I studied graphic techniques

under Gerard Lutz and Aad van Houwelingen. The painter Jan Sierhuis and Frans Zwartjes were prominent figures there. After the Vrije Academie, I spent a further two semesters in New York. I had found a gallery in Amsterdam and my work sold like hot cakes! When I made a mint in 1977, I just left for America and thought 'I'm never going back.' I stayed there for a year and then I'd had enough, so I came back.

After that, I did a lot of other things, such as theatre. I went to Belgium with a family circus and I also did things outside the art world. After that, I started to do projects for Haagse Centrum voro Actuele Kunst (The Hague Centre for Contempo-rary Art): an alternative art initiative similar to Aorta in Amsterdam, which rebelled against the prevailing artistic climate in The Hague, and against Pulchri Studio.

Parallel to that, I still did graphic work and that paid well. I felt a physical need to do that. I made etchings and that gradually shifted into more project-based work. The temporary things outside were made from very fragile materials. I started to plan activities with groups of people. The works that I produced then led to solicited and unsolicited interaction with people. I started to do video and I was suddenly a video artist; I started to do parades and was suddenly a parade artist. And I didn't ac-tually want that – it was more a sort of reaction. At the beginning of the nineties, Lily van Ginneken was the director of Stroom. I made her a proposal for a participation project in an urban development area in The Hague South-West. There was really no such thing as Community Art then – the entire phenomenon of interaction re-ally started at the turn of this century. I developed my first project – Het Monument voor de Individuele Herinnering (The Monument to the Individual Remembrance) – entirely out of the blue. After that I was invited to produce Het Kremlin Geheugen (The Kremlin Memory) for Gorinchem and that became nationally famous. I was invited to a symposium and then I suddenly heard, 'This gentleman is a specialist in Community Art.' And I hadn't even heard of it! I simply started doing it because the world is bigger than your studio.

L I recently heard of a major artist – we will name no names – who had had a big success in a museum and was to do a small project in a neighbourhood. Then ev-eryone was shouting, 'Hey, this guy makes Community Art!' The 'guy' had simply thought something up that was produced there and then, and the residents were allowed to do something at the opening. He made it for the public and not with the public and that's a big difference. He's still there is his studio and only occasionally dares to leave it as an artist. I also tell that to my trainees who come here to learn the trade.'

So what do you want to create as an artist?'In terms of forms and significance in society, art as we knew it in the seventies and eighties was strongly initiated by salon art as a 19th century concept. There are still things on walls and plinths in galleries today. I question that entire concept. There's nothing wrong with the tradition but I think there's more than that. In my inter-action with people outdoors, I experience very different sensations, very different spaces and very different meanings. I've experimented a lot with this and this has resulted in a line within which I can do these projects. The difference between 15-20 years ago and now is that at that time a lot of things didn't come off because people weren't ready for it. The people didn't speak the language, either in the art world or the policy world, and the entire circle surrounding that.'

How would you describe your art?'Life like Art and Art like Art is an idea that I've embraced for a long time. The idea was invented by Kaprow. He established it and after that the idea took off. Art like Art, is art for art's sake in museums, which is far removed from society and comes from an ivory tower. Kaprow says, 'Life like Art is not art for society but art that is created in society.' I think that this subtle nuance is very important because it's based on equality. I do the same – I don't make things for society but I make them in society.

Community Art has acquired a strange aftertaste that I don't find very pleasant. It is said that there is Art and then there is Community Art and that sounds as if it's some sort of second-rate art. All of this terminology is strategic. I don't care – I have nothing to lose and I can only win. Traditional art is losing out in this way and I think that, for the artist, there is only much more space and many more possibilities. I'm stretching those ideas. I just call it Life like Art for want of anything better. You could also still call it Community Art, although at that time it meant something different. Then it was still based on a Labour Party thing – the didactic 'We're going to teach

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you something' popular edification. It was always spoken of with a sort of disdain at guest lectures and symposia to which I was invited. I've seen all the academies. Sometimes, after them, students come to me, as if I stand for something, and whis-per 'Do you think I could study under you?' I mean really!'

I imagine that it's also inspirational to work with these young people and devise theories.'Sure. I have an arrangement with all of my trainees that they can always come back to talk things over. I do that because I think that it's very important for an artist and can be an artistic experience for all those involved.'

Something that I want to talk to you about is that you want to work with people in a neighbourhood but still with your own artistic signature.'Then you're talking about subjects like beauty or design or cultural significance. Very often, I've got a head start over the people I work with. But if I were to take this neighbourhood as an example, there are people living here with global references. I don't see that as a conflict.

I was invited by Vrouwen Voor Elkaar (Women for Each Other) a group of about 35 ladies from all sorts of cultures who meet every week. I was asked to tell them who I am and what I do. What I do is already very difficult for a standard artist to under-stand, let alone those ladies. Perhaps they didn't know what art means at all. And then again, could they all speak and understand Dutch well enough? So I decided that I would have to speak slowly, articulate well and look at these people carefully to see whether or not they understood. I sat there; I got enthusiastic about some-thing and I just rattled on. At a certain point, one of the ladies said 'I know exactly what you mean. Last week, I was standing in the kitchen and trying to put two plates back in the cupboard, and just as I was putting them back they fell and smashed to bits on the floor. I was stunned when I saw the creation that the shards had made on the kitchen floor. I was really rooted to the spot because I was so enthralled by the image created by the shards.' And I said, 'Finally you were struck with a sort of beauty experience!' and when she told us that, everyone in the group knew exactly what she was talking about. And that was such an opening!

Afterwards, I asked her if she would do this act at a neighbourhood festival. I said, 'I'm here as an artist and I can stand on the stage later and tell a long story and say, 'Ladies and gentlemen, this is about beauty but I have someone here who can show you just what I mean.' When it was over, a young guy said to me, 'She broke four dishes and she wasn't even angry! You see, his entire concept of living changed

Some people in the art world

still think that artists

like us are social workers.

because you can break a plate without getting angry. That happened in the neighbourhood. Since then, Nuran has become a sort of running gag and I've done other things with her.'

That's art!'That's the core of what's happened here. Suddenly what I did or could do in the neighbourhood was clear. Just by showing her idea of art.'

Who are your clients?'Here I've got very good partnerships with the corporation, the welfare workers and schools, but my client is Kunsten-lab (Arts Lab) and I want to keep it that way. Also in order to keep it pure. The corporation gives commissions to a great many companies - builders and demolition companies – but they work to a very specific programme. If I say, 'Just formulate the question for the artist', that's a problem. Their vocabulary deals a lot more with cohesion, but I have nothing to say about that. The fact that social cohesion is a result of my action is something else.'

So your work is based on art and not social objectives?'It's not based on art, but it's about art.'

L’art pour ‘art?'No, then you claim the l'art pour l'art system for outdoors. But to echo Alan Kaprow, I would say it's about Life like Art. When I started with Stroom in the nineties, people said, 'Are you stopping with art?' Because at that time it was swiftly associated with social work. Some people in the art world still think that artists like us are social workers.'

How do you come by commissions?'When I was invited to make a rough design for this project, I was in competition with two other artists who also did social artistic projects. The committee included Kunstenlab, the corporation, the welfare department, the culture broker and resi-dents – it was a very big group. My approach was that I was not going to make any sort of concessions but just be clear. I used to go into a lot of detail about invest-ment but now that there's enough work, you could say that I can start anywhere.'

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Is there enough work?'Yes, there really is! I heard later that these other artists had produced a sort of scenario for what they were going to do the next year. I came up with a plan that consisted of not having a plan. If they chose me, they were choosing the unknown – adventure. The question was, 'Do you want to do something with the neighbour-hood?' and I didn't know the neighbourhood yet. Nor could I get to know that neigh-bourhood in the six weeks of preparation.

I wanted an open approach and that was also discussed. I said, 'You want interac-tion. If you want input from the neighbourhood, I can't say what they should do. It's

about dialogue and not having a say in the result. If you don't agree with that, it's okay. If you don't agree with that, then you've come to the wrong person. Are we opting for a concept in which we know what we're getting – in which the residents will have a say? Or are we opting for Adriaan?' That opened the eyes of a lot of people at the meeting and there was quite a lively discussion. It was partly due to the culture broker that I was able to develop this. The welfare department was very reticent and obviously regarded me as a competitor. It was only after a long time that trainee social workers started to work with me and now the welfare depart-ment says, 'What's our next project, Adriaan?' The Clickruimte is my second home, right on the edge of the demolition site. As it says in the nomination, I'm still there. People are joining the Click Team all the time.'

(Telephone rings). 'Sorry, that I have to take these calls sometimes but there's work in progress and I don't have a secretary...'

You just said that the time wasn't yet ripe when you started. That it's taken people about ten years to learn the language and dare to tackle it. 'Yes, the phenomenon of culture broker didn't yet exist and I still had to do all of that work myself. Now there are culture brokers to act as sparring partners who do a lot of preliminary work and also provide constructive criticism. I've got a very big network. If something has to be done, I'm no longer the only person who has to do it. No, they call me up. I do a great many projects at the same time but you can do this because they are not all so intensive, or not all as intensive at the same time.'

You offer an open concept but how does Kunstenlab decide whether it was good or not?'I'm in my third year but it's not as if I came here for three years before that. I sign up for a year at a time because I also want what I do to be meaningful. After the year is over, either side can say, 'It was great boys, but I'm stepping down.' After the first year, we had an evaluation. Kunstenlab was very satisfied and I wanted to continue. That matched my ideas so it worked out well. After the second year, they asked me again and then a number of things had to be changed on my side. That all happened and now I'm in my third year.'

What makes this interesting for you artistically?'It's as if it's a blank canvas. When you start, you can go in any direction. I often use examples from art because that's also a sort of language. Look, there's a painter

Very often, I’ve got a head start over the people I work with. I don’t see that as a conflict.

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'This group of rappers – the young gene-

ration – that's just amazing and they're

all sweeties. Tough, huh? They're very

proud of them here. Their photos were

on billboards during the event and the

big guys came out from the city – the real

heavy-duty rappers – and this is a suburb

and they just said, 'Wow! How did you ma-

nage that? That your pictures are there?'

And then one of the boys said, 'Quality.'

standing in front of a canvas and it's not as though he just throws something onto it – he has a concept. And I also have my concepts. I say to my trainees, 'Make sure that you have a hundred concepts, then you can improvise. It's just like improvised music. It doesn't matter what the next note is, but you still have to make it interact with the note that comes after it.'

Who do you want your audience to be?'Everyone who lives and works in the neighbourhood, or is related to the neighbour-hood, is important for me. That can be very wide-ranging. I don't leave anyone out. Anyone who wants to, can play a part in this project. I've got great examples of peo-ple who have no interest in art but who are a very important factor in my projects. My experience with Nuran was essential in showing that everything can be art. But some people in the established institutions have particular opinions about what art is, and that doesn't fit in with my work. Great. Let them hang on to that. I don't want to convert them or anything. For me, it's open. My notions of art go much wider, and then you venture into Joseph Beuys' territory actually.

Also, salon art is just a very conservative, traditional sector. The people who want to defend it and preserve it have a very defensive attitude. My standpoint is that I have nothing to lose. When you come into a neighbourhood with no agenda, you can only win – through your relationship with people and the stories that you hear from them. You're not locked away in a studio where you set all the conditions – the outdoors is your studio. You have to be very aware of every step you take. Every step forwards might lead to a pitfall or it might lead you to a completely new world. And, of course, it also involves life, and therefore they are Life Skills...'

You're 61 now. What do you want to do next?'I'm busy writing a book called Why reality does not work. I'm also working on my handwriting because I want to develop a script that you can write into a computer. That's a big job. We also going to make a book on this project.'

Do you document your work? ‘Yes, I make videos and take photos. Photos are a good medium of communication. Some guys at a sound studio wanted a logo, so I gave them one and they thought it was great! The work must also look good because it's about an image that you take pride in. The enlarged photo of that Iranian woman hangs on her wall in the care centre. Retrospectively, photos can have an enormous influence on memory. And memory is not something that can be shaped in the here and now. That's very

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important for me. All of these pictures are stories. And that is only possible on the basis of reciprocity.

At the beginning, you're a blank canvas; you're going to initiate things. But I've increasingly discovered that the function of an artist is to actually anticipate and intervene in existing processes and existing initiatives. So it's not about taking the initiative yourself but looking carefully and keeping your eyes open and seeing what beauty, potential and initiatives there are. You can contribute to this in terms of de-picting something, making it bigger, making it more sustainable or making it to size, because sometimes it's too big for what it is. And sometimes, extreme beauty can lie in a very small thing. You can play a role in this depiction, and that's actually what I do here more and more. That is the strength of an artist in a neighbourhood and it isn't because an artist must invent a project as a stopgap. I'm increasingly coming to realise that that is of a different order.'

What's the dark side of this? Because it surely can't all be fun...'No, but finally yes. What isn't fun is that I'm working in a neighbourhood that will be totally demolished. A lot of people are leaving with whom I've built up a relation-ship. Take Sekki, for example. He actually didn't want to leave but it finally turned out for the best because he now lives much better. But before he left it was all doom and gloom. The next time I met Sekki was in the supermarket.

Sekki: 'What are you doing here?'Adriaan: 'More's the point, what are you doing here? You were the one who left.'Sekki : 'What's happening there now?'Adriaan: 'We're busy with the park and soon we're going to hold a party.'Sekki: 'Hell! Nothing ever happened when I lived there and now all sorts of nice things are happening.'Adriaan: 'Feel welcome to join us! Just come!'

I think that the people who have lived there and have taken part in some way or another will come back. And there are also cousins from other neighbourhoods who say, 'Yes, I've heard about you. My sister told me about you.' There's a strange woman standing there, and that's fun. It's not fun that people have to leave, but it's also just the way life is... It's about primary things.

Mr Van Swigchem is someone who lives here in the neighbourhood. He's a sculptor and painter. I went round to his place and asked:

'How are you doing, Mr Van Swigchem?' He said to me: 'Do you really want to know?' I said: 'Yes, I've got plenty of time.' And he said: 'Then I'll make us some coffee.'I thought, 'Jesus, what did I say?' '...I'm writing a book because I have 'night thoughts'. I set them down on paper be-cause I can't sleep at night.''What's it about?''It's because my wife died. I've had a difficult time.''Sounds interesting. Is it finished?''No, I'm still working on it.' 'I'm very curious about it. Could you tell me something about it because a book like that is pretty abstract.''Yes, I'll read some of it to you.'

It took a while. He's ninety now. A great man. He told me that he was lying in bed and had a meeting with his internal organs – with his heart and his liver and his kidneys. His heart wanted a make-over and wondered whether his kidneys and liver agreed to that. They had always worked together and suddenly the heart wanted a replacement. It was a beautiful metaphor. I really sat there with my mouth open, in a flat behind here!

'Sorry, Mr Van Swigchem. I came for the paintings but I think this is so beautiful. Could you read this aloud at the event?' 'Would you like me to do that?' 'Yes, I'd be very pleased!''My son said, 'Er... great dad... Just keep it to yourself, will you.'

I made him into an icon. He became world famous in the neighbourhood. He was invited everywhere and recognised in the market. The family thought, 'Jesus, we've missed something.' They visited him and saw a big picture of their father on the side of the building! The flat was demolished and there came a time when the telephone rang. 'It's Bas van Swigchem, the son of... Where exactly is that canvas?'Me: 'Do I detect some interest in this work of art?' Son: 'Yes!'Me: 'If you all think it's of some value then it's yours.'Son: 'Yes, it's unique and it's our father.'

That is the strength of an artist in a neighbourhood and it isn’t because an artist must invent a project as a stopgap.

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Then they hung the canvas on their balcony. He was taken seriously by his family and was no longer the old eccentric. It turned out that the son had an important job with a national gardening company. He said, 'Mr Nette, if I can help you in develop-ing the park, you're welcome!''

It was a beautiful

metaphor. I really sat

there with my mouth open,

in a flat behind here!

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Interview: Mieke Klavera.m.klaver@hhs.nl

Part of the book:'Kunst in de Tussentijd'

Translation:Attached Language service

Photography:Adriaan NetteNico Laan