The landscapes of Wim Claessen (b. 1951) are suffused with an atmosphere of
enchantment that is at times oppressive. His paintings stray into the twilit
zone between dream and reality, reaching endlessly into the unknown. His empty
canvases are always oblique, bereft of detail. The atmosphere, color and light
are puzzling.
Wim Claessen’s work is striking for its unusual use of light and color. The
grays, greens, soft orange, muted yellow and blue-gray are painted in acrylic.
The matt quality of this paint, which he applies in thin layers, contributes
to the mystical atmosphere of his paintings.
The light is another defining element of the compositions, lending them an air
of mystery. At times it is filtered over the scene, at others it flashes
threateningly on the horizon like a vast forest fire. It covers his landscapes
with a subdued orange glow, sometimes casting shadows of deathly pallor.
He works from his own photographs, from magazine images or draws inspiration
from his memory. The landscape always dominates - frozen, chill, melancholy.
Strangely threatening or mysteriously beautiful in its emptiness. The few
figures that appear seem pointless - fishing at the water’s edge, rowing a
boat, perched in a tree or floating alone on the water.
The identity of these boys or men is shrouded in mystery. Sometimes the boat
is as empty as the landscape and it is then that the stillness of his canvases
takes on an oppressive quality. Like a malevolent fairytale. All this
emptiness seems to hint at some unknown horror. Something terrible has
happened, something that lingers in the air. Sometimes the emptiness has a
poetic beauty. A frozen world of soft, pale colors in which people play no
part. A world of looming hills, barren and desolate, and of snowy wastes.
Endless horizons. Polder landscapes, green and fresh. Wim Claessen cuts
through them with empty reflections of the lonely water, with broad rivers
passing languidly through finite lowlands.
