MARTINE JOHANNA
Dutch artist Martine Johanna creates works based on fantasies, direct experience, dreams, and the tensions between expected social behaviors and morals versus the messiness of inner life.
She has exhibited in multiple solo shows in the Netherlands, Europe and the United States. Her work is part of several private collections and has been published in diverse books and magazines. Her paintings were also featured in two episodes of the HBO hit series True Detective.
In this interview, she talks about the creative aims behind her vibrant use of color, how her subjective world influences her style, the ways in which she tries to embrace romanticism without cliches, and the deft mixing of fantasy and realism in her work.
Interview by Isabel Hou
You have said that the characters you paint “are fictitious women...through them, [you] process your own circumstances, as they mainly are the heroines of [your] story lines translated from reality to imagination.” (Metal Magazine, 2018) Are these women representations of yourself, or rather external figures that you have created for yourself?
I think the women in my work are like an archetype, it is how I have seen myself internally from a young age. I’ve felt like this woman since I was about twelve years old, it is like I knew that my life would be full of turmoil and I am an incorrigible romantic. I think I will stay this woman even if I become much older. Also I feel that we as women have this core age in our minds and heart, it is this point where you are fully aware of your core being, strengths and faults. So I paint this woman, she has different faces but to me she is the same. Like me, she is an introvert on the outside and an adventurer on the inside. A girl with an extensive inner world, an enigma, vulnerable but strong and very aware of the external world but always taking refuge inside with her expressions.
On your website, you quote Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar. Some say The Bell Jar is a commentary against the standards set for a woman’s life, with an overarching theme of mental illness. Are these themes you find ingrained in your own work?
Yes absolutely, I grew up in a very religious and confined community. [But] also in my upbringing, my parents were not absolutely conservative, they were actually quite interested in culture and traveling. But I became quickly aware of the differences between how girls are seen versus boys. Or women versus men. I noticed all these differences in responsibility, roles and mainly morals. I experienced this difference as very suffocating and unfair. I felt that my gender was seen as a restriction while I myself experienced my gender as an amazing magical gift. I embraced everything girly and at the same time I would climb trees, build wooden shacks and fight with anyone who crossed me. Right up until puberty hit, and all of a sudden me hanging out with boys became something evil according to others. I have written a book where I talk about this too. The double standard is so deeply engraved in our society that many women just see it as normal. The thing is I don't want to be a man, I want to be a woman, but [I want to] have the same freedoms without danger or judgement.
I’m mesmerized by your use of vibrant, dreamy color. How do you choose the palettes for each piece? What are the colors saying?
The colors are a lure, it is not some scheme to draw you in, but they are vibrant and saying: come…come to me, look at me, it is like nature, first the colors draw you in and then you start to realize things aren't just pretty, there is more going on. I use colors that are perceived as girly or pretty and I am very attracted to these colors because they remind me of my childhood; the colors of innocence, nature, toys, the rainbow fly curtain in my parents kitchen, blow up swimming pools, make-up, Barbie dolls, candy and carnivals. So I use these colors deliberately. I am weary of boxed conventions. At art school we were taught about higher art forms, right and wrong color spectrums, right and wrong taste. If you put anything in a box you are confining art, but art needs freedom to work, not rules or restrictions.
Throughout the years, you have maintained your artistic style and dialogue. What is the enduring motivation behind this constant?
Even though I went to art school, my style and technique are autodidact. I have developed my inner world from an authentic love of drawing and painting. That is my drive, I communicate with everything I make, I love creating something that did not exist before. The constant is myself, my view of the world, my way of seeing color and shape. Also the characters — even when they are not literally the same — they feel familiar, they exude states of minds that are relatable, because we all go through life in similar ways. We always want to show how successful or fantastic we are. I'm not interested in that, I'm interested in the unease, the unrest, the disappointments, the duality of positive versus negative, strength versus weakness, perceptions of weakness and strength.
You have said that, if given the chance to speak with any artist, dead or living, you’d like to have a conversation with Helen Frankenthaler (Juxtapoz Magazine, 2016). She was bold and nonconforming, defying societal norms of the female artist. How does her story guide your creative process?
I think she had this calm nonconforming attitude and although our work does not have many similarities, I completely feel drawn to her way of working and thinking as a statement. Maybe also because she had more guts than myself, because although I might have grandiose ideas I tend to stay in my safe zone. In my own world I'm most comfortable and uncomfortable and that feeds into my work.
When I see Helen, I see a kind of freedom and fuck you attitude I partly have but will never completely be able to own because of my personality.
You have exhibited extensively. How do you feel you have changed — as an artist as well as a person — from your first show?
At first I was this sort of wild freed artist, I made my paintings in a couple of hours, often half drunk, with loud music on at night. It was a liberation, I aimed at only expressing the boundlessness of my inner world, I was very occupied by the flight of freedom and sexual freedom. After a while, I would put more time in my work and more subtle layers of meaning, my personal world became more layered and detailed, I started to develop more as a person and became less obsessive and singular. I started to study more, read and write, and came to an understanding that knowing more doesn't hinder making art, it enriches and broadens its perspective.
On the Surrender...Dorothy… page on your site, you state: “A romanticization that you discover for the first time as a child through fairy tales, romantic stories and films, is deeply rooted in the idea of what love will be like. True love, however, is a mirror, a genuine open embrace of yourself with all your shadow sides. Love heals, frees, inspires, connects and devours...” Are you speaking from personal experience?
I am an endless romantic, and I see romance on many levels. You can fall in love with a person, a place, a memory, a friendship, an object, nature. I see love as the center of the universe, the root and core of everything, because love is caring, and caring is making things bloom and grow. It gives value to life, it gives good memories for whom you leave behind and it brings beauty to this world. Love can be harsh, honest, brutal, passionate, sweet, impossible and intense. I've dealt with a lot of loss, but I'm also blessed to have love in my life on all those levels. I do think that romance in itself is often portrayed as some cliche that doesn't reflect life. There is a sort of perfectionism these days that is impossible to maintain because we are all flawed.
I have a massive amount of respect and envy for those who have made a name for themselves in the art world. Many young artists find the prospect daunting. What do you feel contributed to your success?
I think success is relative, it just depends from what point you look at success or perceive as success. I do see that artists I admire have something in common with me, and that is making work from your own perspective, in your own style and staying critical but driven. I've also always been open about what drives me or what interests me. I think my work is like a diary, it shows all these stages of my life and inner turmoil and those things are relatable for a big group. Also I don't care too much [about making] something pretty, I just make what I need to make. I'm okay with any outcome, because I feel that authenticity is something that is important to maintain.
It’s clear that you do not wish for your work to be categorized. However, there are elements of both realism and fantasy present in your paintings. Is that a stylistic choice, a preference? Or rather a conscious commentary?
My work is not hyperreal and it does have elements that are more reminiscent of dreams, because my dreams are a big influence. I would not be prone to paint fantasy elements because to me the women I paint are alive and real. I don't want them to be fairy tales, they went through real hardship and have real struggles with their self. So that is often something you see, the women in my latest show are so trying to uncomfortably conform to how they want to be perceived that even their surroundings are starting to adapt to their uneasiness. So we see chairs with many legs intertwined, rooms that are deforming and uncomfortable poses and scenes to avoid reality.
As we live through a pandemic, have you thought about how the art world will change in the years to come? Do you foresee your work or exhibitions changing in response to this crisis?
The work is already influenced by the cabin fever we all feel. All of a sudden we feel trapped, people don't know how to behave anymore, families are fractured by discussions about topics we are now focused on because of this mental confinement. The world is burning and everyone loses their shit. Social cohesion is now a trending thing instead of a sincere bond. People are egotistical and show their true fears and their boredom is ravenous. It is like all these end of the world films and series that gave us some idea of how we would handle things in crisis…[these films and series] did not anticipate how the internet would divide us.
It would be hilarious if it wasn't so tragic. My works will stay autobiographical and I will still show my work. The gallery shows by appointment, and thankfully people still need my work on their walls for something colorful with that tiny bit of relatable tragedy…
Martine currently has a solo show, Balancing Act, at Massey Klein Gallery in New York through October 24, 2020.
View more of Martine’s work on her site and Instagram.
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Isabel Hou is a student and artist interested in writing, advocacy, and law. She is based out of Pennsylvania and is currently living in Colorado.