This article is based on this Dutch article of Martijn Benders
By now, I have most of the books by Albertus Dijk (1924-2005) on order. At the time of the philosophical critique in Trouw of his philosophy book, the man was already seventy years old and was dubbed “a disgruntled student” in that review by Hans Dijkhuis, the Christian philosopher who later wrote a book about “evil and Cain and Abel.” So was this again the metaphorical stone with which a giant needed to be felled? I await the work of Albertus Dijk before passing judgment. This philosophy book is part of my order as well.
As an artist, experimentation is your home, not the poem, as Slauerhoff once said. It seemed like a good idea to have AI sing the most difficult word I know, a Turkish word that my daughter Mavi introduced me to:
muvaffakiyetsizleştiricileştiriveremeyebileceklerimizdenmişsinizcesine
If you asked people to sing this, it would be quite the challenge. But AI has no trouble with it at all:
And that’s precisely why this is such an intriguing experiment. I have also created a second one. I’ll ask Mavi if she can make an animation for it, maybe, but she is already busy with her own comic book.
The word means:
“As if you are among those whom we may not be able to easily turn into a maker of unsuccessful ones.”
I aim to produce three good records by the end of the year. Albums by Berry Lee Berry, The Stoss, and De Hertenklanken.
So, I am busy enough. But that might just be delusions of grandeur.
Who knows the works of the Dutch painter Nicolaes Lachtropius? Probably very few, but if you ask me, it’s pure plant discrimination.
His far-too-sparse Wikipedia page contains scant facts about his birthplace, Alphen aan de Rijn, and mentions that he couldn’t find any clients for his work. Clearly, ‘art lovers’ preferred the faces of wealthy merchants over nature. No one wants nature on their wall. Nicolaes Lachtropius had no success as an artist but possessed incredible talent.
In the painting, next to the frog, we see glowing cabbage whites (Pieris rapae) and also a moth, which I believe is a Peppered Moth (Biston betularia). What’s fascinating about the moth is that over the centuries, its color changed from pure white to black as it adapted to industrial environments. In the 16th century, when this painting was made, it was still pure white. But in this painting, the moth is shown against a backdrop of thorny darkness, as if the artist had foreknowledge of what would come centuries later.
I am considering using this work as the cover for my new collection.
Wishing you a wonderful day,
Martijn Benders
Kind regards,
Martijn