For me, painting is half about action, and the other half about observing, thinking and listening. My process is entirely intuitive, which sometimes makes starting a new piece challenging.
Years ago, whilst working on a commission for a monumental canvas, I began by applying seemingly random strokes and patches of colour. Suddenly, something extraordinary happened: I heard a chorus from Carmina Burana in my head. It was as if the colours immediately evoked sounds. I bought the recording and completed the painting in the weeks that followed, carried by that music.
Since then, I have known that colour is capable of evoking sound, though this does not happen with every work. Sometimes a painting arises precisely from silence. Music can guide, but it can also overwhelm. Whilst creating this work, I even had to turn off the recording of Rachmaninov’s Second Piano Concerto; the music threw me into such confusion that I simply could not continue painting.
It is a constant search for the right resonance between the canvas and my senses — a process in which music sometimes shows the way, and sometimes blocks the path
Imperfection is human. It shows vulnerability, growth, and the process behind the work. An artist who embraces imperfection invites the viewer to participate in a dialogue rather than just admire. It can evoke feelings that perfection cannot—such as melancholy, hope, or the realisation that beauty can also lie in flaws.
Arthur Bernard
Mixed media on panel
Why this feels especially relevant right now…
So much of life lately feels like a patchwork—news, memories, worries, and small joys all stacked on top of each other. When I painted this piece, I wasn’t trying to “solve” that feeling, just to map it honestly: soft blues, earthy blocks of color, edges that don’t quite line up, and traces of earlier layers still showing through.
For me, it’s a visual reminder that things can be fragmented and still hold together, that we don’t always need a neat story to feel grounded.
When you look at this, what do you see in the shapes and spaces? Does it remind you more of an actual landscape, or an inner one?
Somewhere between memory and horizon lies Summerland - visible yet always just out of reach. Just as a mirage takes its shape from what we hope to see, this landscape emerges from fragments of light, colour and expectation. The search itself becomes the destination.
‘Summerland’ mixed media on linen 100x120cm
Every now and then, I feel the need to paint something completely different. Especially when I’m trying to find answers and only end up with more questions.
‘Flowers in the field’ mixed media on linen 100x120cm. One of the paintings reserved for the exhibition at the ‘ Oude Raadhuis’in Warmond.
Opening 7 december, welcome!
