Symmetrie van het water

Jan Andriesse
Year
1993
Material
acrylic paint on linen
Size
150,5 x 573 cm
Collection
2000.JA.04
Acquisition
gift of the artist

Symmetry of water fits in well with the broader endeavour underlying Jan Andriesse’s work: the question of whether a painting, rather than offering a direct depiction of physical or atmospheric phenomena, can approach their essential nature. Obsessed with the laws of light, water, and colour, Andriesse approached painting almost as a kind of scientific research. For him, the canvas was not a window onto reality but a laboratory in which to explore the visual experience.

The same can be said of this painting, which the artist donated to the museum in 2000 and which occupies a special place within his oeuvre. Whereas in a painting like Rainbow, he has utilised atmospheric effects and colour, here Andriesse has opted for a tight composition in black and white. Thanks to its enormous dimensions – the canvas is almost six metres across – the work fills one’s entire field of vision and forces the kind of panoramic gaze that occurs when looking across open water.

The reduction of the visual means is radical in nature: no colour, no visible brushstrokes, only minimal geometric forms. The surface is smooth and impersonal, as if the artist has removed all traces of his own hand. Yet the painting unmistakeably resembles water. It has this in common with works by Raoul De Keyser, René Daniëls and Bart Domburg, who in the 1980s and 90s created abstract-leaning canvases that never became purely formal. Their paintings always retained an echo of observed reality.

The title mentions symmetry, yet there is no visual symmetry to be seen. According to physics, water reflects whatever is above it, giving rise to a symmetrical image. Here, however, the object being reflected appears to be missing. What remains is the suggestion: the black blocks’ reflection is peeking out through the white paint. Are the forms under water? Andriesse proves that our perception is pre-programmed – a single horizontal line and a subtle transparent wash of paint across abstract forms is enough to make us see ‘water’. The painting seems, in essence, to depict the act of seeing itself.