This extended interview by journalist Edo Dijksterhuis with four Rietveld alumni was first published in Elephant Trails Alumni Journal #1.
Launching a career with the handbrake on
By Edo Dijksterhuis
Transitioning from student to professional artist is difficult even under the best of circumstances. The class of 2020 had to deal with lockdowns, curfews and other Covid-19 related restrictions that seriously impacted the art world. Four graduates shared their experiences of their first year after leaving the Rietveld Academie.
Graduation is a time of closure and the opening of new, exciting vistas: the world is out there, waiting to be conquered. At least, that’s normally the case. However, 2020 was not a normal year and the 2020 graduation show was nothing like the usual festive occasion. First of all, the date was pushed back, from early July to late August. Right up until the opening, the possibility of new Covid restrictions and thus cancellation hung over the event, causing a lot of stress. When the doors finally did open, timeslots were enforced for limited numbers of visitors at a time. Stretching the show’s run time from four to eight days partly remedied this restriction, but it obviously couldn’t bring back the feverish atmosphere of euphoria and anticipation mixed with relief and release that normally marks a graduation show.
Still, Rietveld graduates were among the lucky few who did have a graduation show. Most other art schools in the Netherlands cancelled their final presentation, sometimes offering graduates a consolation prize in the form of an online platform. But this type of exposure forgoes the face-to-face meetings with curators, gallery owners, critics and collectors that make a graduation show such an important, if not essential, stepping stone towards life as a professional artist.
“The run-up to the graduation show was quite intense, given all the uncertainty and the Rietveld being closed because of the lockdown,” Nadja Schlenker (designLAB) remembers. “I was quite happy to have had a graduation show at all. It’s crucial that my work can be experienced physically, looking at pictures of it is not the same as walking around it.”
The German-Swiss artist presented four-metre-high plaster and ceramic sculptures inspired by the architecture of Lebanon’s capital Beirut, where she spent four months doing research. After her return to Amsterdam a massive explosion in the port area killed over 200 people and destroyed a large part of the city on 4 August. Worries about the people she’d left behind overshadowed her graduation stress. “Working in the deserted studios at the academy was actually a nice distraction. It was quite luxurious in a way. But the graduation show itself was tame, to say the least, and the traditional farewell party was also cancelled.”
“It wasn’t the type of climax everybody expected after four years of hard work,” Mayis Rukel (VAV – moving image) admits. “Still, the Rietveld tried its best. But after eight days on my feet, living on sandwiches, I was completely exhausted.”
The Turkish video artist saved himself a lot of trouble by starting work on his graduation film early. When lockdown arrived, he had shot all his footage. By the time graduation came around The Pendant had already been selected for the student programme of the Dutch Film Festival, the Berlinale and several other film festivals.
Dutch-Vietnamese Irene Ha (Fashion) felt seriously hampered by the Covid restrictions. “Originally, I was going to do a traditional runway presentation. But interaction with teachers on Zoom, trying to explain my ideas, bordered on the surreal. They couldn’t even make out the difference between cotton or silk. In the end I turned the entire concept upside down and made an installation under the moniker Baby Reni, the internet persona I’ve cultivated since high school.”
Danielle Alhassid (Fine Arts) from Israel, who graduated with an animation, also shifted her attention to the digital domain in the months preceding the graduation show. “I worked as a tour guide in museums during my studies. When lockdown was declared I started doing Zoom performances called Must See, virtually taking people around the Rijksmuseum. It gave a whole new spin on how we experience museums, how we use cameras and what a museum tour could be. This form of online storytelling worked really well. I got to show people the Rijksmuseum who would never have travelled to Amsterdam otherwise, but I did miss direct human contact.”
“At the graduation show I got to meet people face-to-face, but the number of visitors was much lower than usual. The upside was that you got to talk more intimately with the ones who did come. But after eight days I felt like going into hibernation.”
Week 49 of 2020 (30 November - 4 December)
The first few weeks after graduation are for partying and a well-deserved rest. After that you have to get used to life outside the Rietveld bubble. No longer a student, you have to establish yourself as a professional artist. It’s no different in times of Covid, but the means to insert yourself into the cultural field were severely limited in a city where network events had been suspended and openings temporarily banned.
Under these circumstances it’s difficult to take advantage of any spin-off from your graduation. Rukel and Alhassid were lucky to be selected for The Best of Graduates show at Ron Mandos Gallery, which generated some publicity and kept them in the public eye. Alhassid: “I feel like I’m making the transition from student to professional life, but things remain slightly blurry. That’s partly due to the absence of openings, social gatherings and other informal moments where you get to meet people in a natural way. My friends from Rietveld also noted that things have suddenly slowed down. I did have a meeting with a curator who was at the graduation show and we went for a walk in the park with a coffee – something I would never do otherwise. And I visited a collector at home. But mostly my life has shrunk to the size of my computer screen, family interaction and work blending together.”
Rukel presented The Pendant at poetry platform Perdu, but he finds it difficult to plan ahead, let alone make long-term commitments. “There is too much uncertainty. I can’t think about a residency or a masters. The last months before graduation also exhausted me emotionally and I need a rest, maybe even a sabbatical.”
In the meantime, he works as an editor and a colour corrector for other video artists. He also manages to keep his expenses in check. “I was fortunate enough to find a studio in Rotterdam through a live-in guardian agency: anti-kraak.”
Even though Ha has an online exhibition lined up with art magazine Mister Motley, a nomination for a fashion award and almost daily requests from stylists to borrow pieces for photo shoots, she doesn’t make enough money to pay rent in Amsterdam. “I’ve moved back to my parents in Arnhem. Two or three days a week I work for public health services as part of their contact tracing programme. I directly invest all the money I make. The web shop I’ve been running for several years doesn’t provide a stable income and I don’t want to spend all my time on commercial activities. Still, at least three shops carry my collection now and two more will do so starting in late December. I find it hard to do all production work by myself; before I could fall back on friends from art school. I’d rather channel my energy and focus on writing funding applications for a fashion show for the summer of 2021.”
Schlenker is a couple of years older than the rest and has few doubts about the direction she’s steering her career in. She applied for the Artwell Residencies at Neverneverland, an artist’s residency programme in South-East Amsterdam and was accepted. “I also want to show my work at art fairs and I was already selected for Talente, a new design fair in Munich. It does feel a bit odd preparing for an event that might never take place. But hey, that’s the new reality.”
“Travel is an important part of what I do, but I guess I won’t be doing much of that soon. In the meantime I earn a living working as a freelance translator and assistant at Marjan van Aubel’s studio. Because all the events I used to go to have been cancelled, I have a lot of time on my hands to think about what I do and which direction I want to take my work in. It’s a process of ups-and-downs, but I’m slowly emerging from the graduation tunnel.”
Week 3 of 2021 (18 - 22 January)
The lockdown and curfew that came into force on 15 December made life a lot harder. Museums have been closed which means the options for meeting other artists and soaking up inspiration have dwindled even further. Worse still is the closing of artists’ supply shops. No one knows when they’ll reopen.
“Even Gamma and Praxis are closed!,” exclaims Schlenker, who partly depends on these Dutch DIY stores for her materials. “I used to stroll through these places and discover all kinds of stuff. Now I have to order online.” And that’s not the only disappointment she had to swallow during this third wave of the Covid-19 pandemic. “Talente got cancelled. At least Object Rotterdam confirmed my selection, but that fair has been postponed and may or may not take place in June or July. It’s good to have a goal when you’re creating new sculptures. That’s lacking now, so I’ll finish what I’m working on and then start doing research, probably something connected to the Bijlmer, the area I’m working in at the moment.”
“Doing this residency is keeping me sane. It’s great to have a place to work and talk to fellow artists. I try not to think ahead too much and focus on the present. I would like to work with a craftsman and was also planning to cooperate with a designer, but all those ideas had to be put off because all studios are closed.”
Rukel made the best of the situation by redecorating his room and making his workspace more comfortable. He spent most of his time at his desk, communicating with the outside world through the computer screen. “I recorded a 12-part podcast called Soft Edges with Lucie Gérard, who also graduated from Rietveld in 2020. We talked in depth about texts, films and art we feel are relevant. It’s a nuanced, slow paced discussion, for example about Adrienne Maree Brown’s book Pleasure Activism. We produced the entire series remotely using headphones, voice recorders and online editing software.”
“I’m also working on a novel and writing essays. The Julian Andeweg affaire in particular inspired me to think about call-out culture, victim blaming and how to deal with severe abuse. At the end of this month I’m hoping to have a first meeting with Diego Ospina Melo and six other filmmakers to see if we can start a film collective. However, I don’t see many art world professionals at the moment. Instagram contacts remain rather superficial and most of my close friends are also trying to adapt to the new situation. I see a few of them occasionally for puzzle and pizza dates, but it’s a fairly small circle and I do miss the broader social contact.”
Ha’s situation is quite different. In spite of the lockdown her world has opened up since she secured a studio and a room in Amsterdam West. “Not having your stuff in five different locations and working at your own studio makes life so much easier. I can use my own sewing machine and clients can come by for a fitting. To be honest, I’m surprised by how many commissions I’m getting. At the same time I want to be selective and not waste most of my energy on logistics instead of creating. I miss my inspiring trips to the fabric store. Or spending an afternoon with my friends watching videos or visiting exhibitions.”
The same holds true for Alhassid, who moved to Israel right before Christmas and experienced the grinding down of everyday life while the country went into severe lockdown. “I had many projects going immediately after graduation, but now I’ve hit a void. It was great seeing my family after having been gone for over a year, but it was hard to leave my home, friends and network in Amsterdam. Fortunately, I’m in a relationship. I met my partner, who’s also an Israeli, in New York where he teaches. He is also in Israel now, unable to return to the US because of the American travel ban.”
“Restrictions in Israel are even stricter than in the Netherlands. I’m working on an ongoing project about the modernist architecture of Tel Aviv, but it’s almost impossible to go out. I’m also rebuilding my animation studio, but my thoughts don’t grow beyond the sketchbook. It’s an odd feeling, trying to start a project without art school’s structure. Having too much time on my hands has made me lose my edge. Everything has slowed down and become bland. I have the feeling we’re living month by month rather than day by day.”
Week 8 and 9 of 2021 (22 February – 1 March)
The Israeli vaccination programme turned out to be a lot more effective than efforts in the EU and Alhassid had her first jab when in the Netherlands health services had only just started vaccinating octogenarians. “I get my green passport next week, after my second shot. No more testing before going to an event, that’s great and makes it easier to work, but I don’t expect a sudden rush to freedom. I got a new studio a 15-minute cycle from my house. There I’m working on a live animation for international women’s day. I also participated in the Dead Darlings benefit auction for W139. My painting was sold to a Dutch couple who sent me an email. It feels good to have pieces of me in Amsterdam.”
Meanwhile Ha has gone into a five-day quarantine no less than three times because her housemates were possibly infected. While Alhassid felt ‘a fresh vibe’, the fashion designer experienced a new low. “The time in self isolation has thrown me into doubts. Should I be an artist? Why am I doing this? I tend to be an optimist but this period really gnawed away at my motivation.”
Work hasn’t come to a standstill, though. Ha was commissioned by the Rietveld Academie to design a scarf for all the students. Her work is on show at Beijing’s X-Museum and will soon be on sale at pop-up stores in New York. “I see the results on Instagram and people send me videos, but I’d really like to be there in person, to celebrate. My work is very physical and warm, it’s about making a connection. But because of the lockdown I can’t be part of the community I’ve created.”
Schlenker recognises this feeling of a boxed-in world, but German friends of hers who work as classical musicians have it much worse. “The hopelessness of their situation is killing. Research has shown that 30% of German musicians are thinking of quitting and 10% have already done so. When I hear that I’m happy to have my studio and be able to focus on work instead of Covid-19. I was a bit stressed before, but now I know: things will return to normal at some point and I’ll be able to do projects again. I use my time now to pave the way.”
Rukel, who has been accepting, even stoic up until now, has reached some sort of breaking point. Restrictions make it impossible for the film collective to meet in person and Zoom is proving to have its limits. “I feel disillusioned,” he says. “The hope for change that isn’t coming is extremely tiring. I keep working on my novel and go for lots of walks. But I’ve also started attending workshops to become a doula, someone who assists people in the final phase of their lives. Death is all around us nowadays and I wanted to spend time with the idea of death. The week I enrolled, my father tested positive for Covid-19. I call him every day and fortunately he only has a mild case. A friend of mine lost his father however and he’s both angry and sad. I think that even a year from now, when hopefully this pandemic will be over, the death toll will loom over us like a global trauma.”
Week 14 of 2021 (5 - 9 April)
Rukel finished his doula course. “It was amazing and I learned a lot. For example how we can prepare for our own death and what you would like to leave behind. It’s about really practical things like bank accounts, but also family secrets – do you want to take them to the grave or not? After our last day of training I ran into a childhood friend, whose father was dying. She stayed with me for a couple of days and the lessons learned in the doula workshop helped me deal with the situation.”
These positive experiences are coloured by the ongoing curfew that severely limits social interaction. “I haven’t met any new people in a long time,” Rukel realises. “The slowness of the vaccination programme is depressing.”
For Ha, the Dutch national elections brought a new sense of isolation. “Almost everybody I know has voted BIJ1, but in the end the party only got one seat in parliament – I couldn’t believe it. But that’s the bubble you live in and social media don’t help,” says the artist who relies on the internet to make and distribute her work. “I’m tired of virtualisation’s impact. The polarisation, cancel culture – it’s all become worse because everybody’s online all the time. Covid-19 has turned the internet into a not so pleasant place.”
Tel Aviv, on the other hand, momentarily is. “When I talk to classmates from Amsterdam I get the feeling I’m living in a parallel world,” says Alhassid. “Restaurants and bars are fully operational in Israel. We’re not all the way back to normal but the energy and liveliness has returned. I’m hopeful we’ll be able to move to New York at the end of summer and put an end to our nomadic life.”
Meanwhile Schlenker works persistently, creating one sculpture after another. Gallery owner Pien Rademakers paid her studio a visit. They had met at Big Art, one of only a few art events that weren’t cancelled last year. “As of next week I’ll be represented by a gallery,” the sculptor rejoices. “I’m cautiously looking forward to travelling again. I’m dreaming of Italy, Bangkok and Lebanon of course. And I’m looking forward to visiting exhibitions, even if we’re still obliged to wear face masks and have to social distance. It’s far from normal but to be honest: I wouldn’t know what normal is. We’ve never experienced normal. The here and now is normal.”
Epilogue (September 2021)
Schlenker got what she wished for, as did the other graduates. Towards summer, restrictions were slowly lifted and social life started picking up pace. At the end of June, Art Rotterdam heralded the return of art fairs and in the following months anticipation built towards the opening of a new cultural season.
Schlenker really enjoyed the summer exhibition at her new gallery, where she showed new sculptures. She had another show marking the end of the 6-month residency in the Bijlmer. The day after the opening she was on a train to Berlin, where she spent 2 months at Livingstone Gallery’s project space on invitation. “I was happy with the change of scenery after having spent the entire lockdown in Amsterdam. I’m currently in Beirut, where I started a project with a Lebanese designer. I’m thankful to have the opportunity again to visit Lebanon after everything that has happened and see my friends again. To have new experiences, visit new places and meet new people – all of which will translate into new projects.”
While Schlenker is travelling, Ha has settled down, but not slowed down. She’s been selected for a presentation at Haarlem’s 37PK and is part of the prestigious Maison Amsterdam show in De Nieuwe Kerk. During Amsterdam Fashion Week she was featured on billboards in metro stations across the city. And she was one of 15 talents selected for AFK’s 3Package Deal. “This not only enables me to deepen my practice, but also takes away financial worries. I notice that I like this stability, it fuels my creativity. Last year, I was stressing out about money and often accepted commissions I wasn’t 100% on board with.”
Alhassid has finally settled down as well, although she’s at her fifth address in eight months now. She moved with her partner to New York in August and started the MFA programme at Hunter College. The months leading up to the move were, as she puts it, “crazy”. “I was working at the educational department of the Museum for Modern Art and a ceramics centre while simultaneously doing art tours. I also got my very first solo show at the Liebling House in Tel Aviv, but it took me a long time to celebrate since at the same time Gaza was bombed and violence broke out in Israel. I’m trying to find some tranquillity now in New York and I’m actually starting to feel at home.”
Last, but not least, Rukel has emerged from his Covid cocoon. In May the film he made for Rietveld TV, How to Read a Spread with The Pendant Tarot Deck, premiered on AT5 [regional TV broadcaster in the Amsterdam metro area]. He spent the following months researching character design for visual and textual mediums, experimenting with materials and working on text/image/Polaroid collages. “My sister also moved to the Netherlands recently and has been living with me. That has been miraculously helpful in recovering from the lonely echoes of the lockdown.”
Having overcome his sense of hopelessness he applied to the Sandberg Instituut and was accepted. “I started the master’s programme Ecologies of Transformation in early September. It’s beyond anything I thought possible, something very unique and there’s nothing I’d rather be focussing on these coming years.”