In January, a glowing red sunset will appear over the IJ. Sunset in Amsterdam, an installation by Mike Rijnierse and Ludmila Rodrigues, plays with the idea of the sun slowly disappearing over the horizon, reminiscent of a day at the beach. However, in this case, the sun remains stationary and is visible 360 degrees. This striking light installation has previously been displayed in cities such as Paris, The Hague, and Delft, and will now come to the NDSM wharf for one month. We asked the duo about their motivations and inspiration for the installation.

What inspired you to create the first version of Sunset, and how do you approach something so universal and timeless?

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We were literally at the beach, observing how many people reached out for their devices to photograph the sunset. We questioned how many people are taking these pictures every single day. Right now there are thousands of photos being taken of the same scene. Moreover, the photographed image can never do justice to the actual phenomenon, which is spatial, it’s deep, really glorious. So it's a bit pathetic that we try to capture it and even share it with the world. Then we joked, what if we would make an inflatable sunset that could simply stay there and people wouldn't have to rush to capture it? After all, by waiting for this sublime moment, we miss the whole spectacle because we replace our biological, stereoscopic apparatus (our eyes) with the technological apparatus of the camera, or in other words, we turn into cyclops. Then we started researching the psychological effects of the sunset and its colors; how it appears in art and in films.  

Sunset was first exhibited in Delft in 2021 and has since traveled to other cities. How do you think the environment where the work is displayed influences the audience’s experience?

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The installation always establishes a strong relation with the location where it is shown. There are always different elements in each city that make the work unique. Every time it’s a new work, so to speak. It’s fascinating to discover it from different angles, like from another street, under the bridge, from a window view. Friends and even strangers started sending us photos they took from the most incredible points of views. This was a pleasant surprise. So, after the whole challenge of installing it (it’s always a saga to finance it, to get all the permits and to actually put it on the water) we also learned a lot more about the work. As you walk through the city, you slow down, you talk to people, it becomes an invitation to wander and explore it as if it was the first time. [By the way, if the listeners / readers of this interview want to contribute, we would be delighted to receive their photos by email. We’ll share the pictures with due credits. Check our site for more info.

The NDSM Wharf is a place with a rich history and significant transformations. How does Sunset fit into this specific context?

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The work always creates a context, where different perspectives and stories arise. These can be interpreted differently by each person. We heard incredible stories from the first visitors in Delft. We believe the Sunset will connect NDSM with the IJ, which is not always the case, as we tend to see them as separate entities. Because the work invites you to be in the present, it makes you look at your surroundings differently. It’s like a reset of your relationship with the city.

You seem fascinated by the relationship between people and natural phenomena, such as a sunset, in an urban environment. What draws you to this contrast?

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We are both intrigued by the various ways we sense the world. Our senses are culturally conditioned, some are more heighted than others, but they all can be trained, or re-trained, tuned and truly educated. So, our works explore the different ways we see, hear, touch, smell, move and make sense of our natural and built environments. If we are aware of this interface that is built in our body, then we may as well play with it, tweak it, and in doing so we are expanding our skills, perhaps our knowledge too.

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I read that you are intrigued by how we often replace our personal gaze with the technological perspective of our cameras when looking at something as beautiful as a sunset. How does this affect how we experience our surroundings?

By rushing to register the moment we don’t fully experience it. It’s becoming harder and harder to really be there and open up to things, as we get distracted by all the means of communication available. By shifting from a stereoscopic view to a cyclopic view, our horizon becomes flat, a two-dimensional screen, like our devices.

an you give us some insight into the technical aspects of Sunset? How do you manage to recreate a sunset so authentically?

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Well, we don’t know if it’s that realistic (how dare we recreate the sun!) but it is as close as we could get from the “iconic image” of it. It’s an 8-meter diameter half-sphere inflatable with a lot of light inside, as much lumen as we can get. The lights are controlled by a microprocessor to transition slowly through the warm hues of red, magenta, orange. At this speed that is undetectable for the eyes, many people don’t notice these changes, like the hands in a clock. You only notice the changes when you turn your eyes away for a bit. Further there’s a ventilator inside the inflatable, always on, keeping the shape of a dome.

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Finally, sunsets differ all over the world yet are universally recognizable. What do you hope visitors will take away from their experience with Sunset?

We believe that once you’ve seen it, you won’t forget the experience, you’ll always look at the place and remember how the artwork brought a new perspective. The colours also provide a sense of warmth during these winter days. But above all it reminds us of our place in the planet, as well as in the universe, in relation to our Sun. This relationship is unique and fragile. We cannot live closer or further from it. Life as we know it, is only possible right here.

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Sunset in Amsterdam is presented as part of the program line (Un)monumenting, where artists explore and question the monumental character of NDSM as a site. At NDSM, monumental heritage, creativity, events, and makers come together. In response, artists continuously examine what the unique character of the wharf signifies and how it can shape the future of a city and its inhabitants.

Mike Rijnierse and Ludmila Rodrigues have been collaborating since 2011. They share a fascination with the ways human perception is formed. Their works encourage the audience to navigate with all their senses and to rediscover how to see, hear, and feel.

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With the installation, Studio Ossidiana questions about private and public, and who has the right and access to green and exclusive nature in today's city. NDSM Lusthof, like the former Lusthoven, which were intended for the richer people of Amsterdam, is surrounded. Now not through hedges, but through a playfully designed and colored fence with peepholes that make you curious. The fences have a rounded shape that looks like an observatory, a place where the world is seen from the inside out.

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In addition to the design of the fence and infrastructure, the plants that grow in NDSM Lusthof also have a link with the subject of lustthoven. In the Lusthoven of yesteryear, all kinds of botanical finds were collected. The plants at NDSM Lusthof are inspired by the Turkish Ottoman gardens where medicinal herbs as well as trees or flowers flourish. It is an agricultural garden in the broadest sense of the word where plants have a 'function', from pollinators for bees and butterflies to tea herbs. A true “Living Library”, in the words of Studio Ossidiana.

Planting NDSM Lusthof

Landscape Architect Arja Helmig of Yes studio brought this theme to life in her design for the plants at NDSM Lusthof. The richness of gardens such as “Living Library” on the one hand, and the tension between accessibility to green in an urban environment on the other. This accessibility is important because plants and green areas have proven to have a positive effect on human physical and mental health. For some populations around the world, plants are still the only available and reliable medicine for certain conditions or types of pain. That is why, when designing the green, urban oasis NDSM Lusthof, Arja chose plants that have medicinal properties: a pharmacy garden. Just like a physical pharmacy, the garden is not always open and you need to provide the necessary information before you can pick from it.

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The functionality of the plants in NDSM Lusthof is not limited to those for humans. The design is specifically tailored to a balance between people, plants and animals. Plants are absolutely essential for birds, bees and butterflies. That is why, in NDSM Lusthof, Arja chose a combination of native trees, shrubs and herbs, species that are best for our native small animals.

The design

The final design of the growing parts of NDSM Lusthof makes it a green urban oasis. Following Studio Ossidiana's design inspired by the shape of an observatory, the plants in NDSM Lusthof are also planned in circular shapes. The garden is a place for recovery, which implies change, improvement, care and maintenance. The changing nature of the garden over the seasons and the growth over the years reflect this, but the changing perspective on the accessibility of green spaces for people also contributes to this.

NDSM Lusthof is also a community place. This means a personal space, with tea ceremonies led by gardener Maryam Kalami, guided tours and a dedicated volunteer team maintaining the garden. It is a place where people are not just allowed to enter all the time and nature can take its course undisturbed.

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The garden is about care and warmth, both between people and between people and nature. This is emphasized by the choices of the mainly native plants in the garden, with their functions for humans, animals and nature. The selections are warm plant colors (different shades of blue and pink) and with plants from sunnier climates (greyish leaves).

For plants, animals and humans, example: the White Willow

If you look through the peepholes of the NDSM Lusthof fence, you will see the White Willow (Salix Alba) The bark of the Salix Alba has been used by various cultures for thousands of years as a remedy for colds, fevers and joint pain. The active substance, salicylic acid, was first isolated and then produced in a synthetic form as a medicine called acetylsalicylic acid (aspirin). In the past, people simply chewed on a willow twig for gout and pain. Also a handy tip if you're walking in the polder and your ankle sprains!

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In addition to its medicinal functions, we can scale white willow trees among the absolute best in terms of biodiversity. Countless plants, birds and insects live on and in the crown and trunk. Research shows that more than 450 different species of insects can occur on a willow tree. This is important, because insect life is not doing well.

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The Schietwilg in NDSM Lusthof also contributes to helping to restore the contaminated soil at the shipyard as a result of the intensive shipbuilding industry of the last century. This is because white willows can absorb high levels of lead and cadmium from the soil and store them in various parts of plants. This knowledge comes from the second half of the 20th century when several researchers came up with the idea of using plants in remediation (phytoremediation) to extract heavy metals to purify soil and water. Fortunately, an investigation by the municipality showed that this piece of land is not contaminated and can be picked out.

In het kader van de 3Package Deal hebben Stichting NDSM-werf, Over Het IJ en Das Theatre de coalitie Urban Realm gevormd. Deze coalitie ondersteunt recent afgestudeerde Das Theatre-kunstenaars binnen de context van de Urban Realm van NDSM. Deze editie is de 3Package Deal-kunstenaar de freelance performance maker, schrijver en performer Fariborz Karimi.‍

Kun je jezelf eerst even voorstellen en iets vertellen over je artistieke praktijk in het algemeen?

Mijn naam is Fariborz Karimi. Ik ben theatermaker en heb mijn master afgerond aan DAS Theatre in Amsterdam (AHK) in 2023. Daarvoor woonde ik in Teheran, Iran, waar ik mijn bachelor in theaterregie en acteren behaalde (2012). Mijn praktijk draait om de concepten samenwerking met vrienden, intimiteit en zelfcensuur. Ik onderzoek hoe vriendschappen en zelfcensuur verweven zijn met de systemen van de omgevingen waarin we leven. Daarnaast onderzoek ik hoe verschillende realiteiten aan elkaar gekoppeld kunnen worden of hoe ze overlappen rond deze concepten. Dit leidde in mijn laatste werk tot een vorm van samenwerking op afstand.

Je bent afgestudeerd met een theaterstuk bij DAS dat het publiek in september kan zien bij Fringe. Kun je dit stuk kort introduceren?

Het stuk dat ik ontwikkelde tijdens mijn master aan DAS Theatre heet “Oh, Wild Gazelle, Where Are You?”. Het is een collectieve droom die vriendschap en nabijheid biedt, zelfs wanneer we, als samenwerkers en vrienden, fysiek ver van elkaar verwijderd zijn. Het stuk is gemaakt in samenwerking met een choreograaf in Iran, die het stuk op afstand en live uitvoert en leidt. Samen als groep van makers onderzoeken we hoe censuur evolueert in verschillende contexten en hoe het ons als kunstenaars beïnvloedt. Dit stuk werd voor het eerst gepresenteerd op het Cement Festival in Den Bosch in maart 2024 en we zullen het opnieuw presenteren tijdens het Fringe Festival in Amsterdam in september.‍

Zou je iets willen zeggen over de rol van de publieke ruimte binnen je praktijk?

Mijn onderzoek naar zelfcensuur en vriendschap gaat dieper in op vragen over solidariteit binnen bepaalde groepen, gemeenschappelijk denken, collectieve creatie, overleven en bescherming, culturele normen, geïnternaliseerde censuur en de invloed daarvan op identiteit in onze publieke ruimte.‍

Wat betekent het voor jou om nu te werken en wonen in Nederland?

Leven en werken in een land met een aanzienlijke kloof tussen de culturele en politieke landschappen van mijn thuisland is zeker een uitdaging. Het navigeren door de privileges van de Europese context en het vinden van manieren om mijn werk te de-exotiseren, kan ook lastig zijn. Echter, als kunstenaar word ik geïnspireerd door deze uitdagingen en vind ik het interessant om te onderzoeken hoe ze mijn praktijk en creatieve proces beïnvloeden.‍

Aan welk nieuw project werk je op dit moment (bij Productiehuis TR in Rotterdam in het najaar) als onderdeel van de 3Package Deal?

“Whispered Dreams” is het nieuwe project dat ik ontwikkel in 2024-2025, wat ook deel uitmaakt van mijn 3Package Deal-traject. Het zet mijn verkenning van vriendschap en zelfcensuur voort, waarbij ik dieper inga op hoe vriendschap een politieke rol kan spelen, zelfs in deze donkere tijden. Samenwerking staat centraal in dit werk, waarbij alle medewerkers mijn vrienden zijn. De co-schrijver en performer werkt op afstand samen vanuit Teheran. Deze verbinding op afstand, samen met de deelname van het publiek via tekst en dromen, vormt de basis van de opzet. Ik ontwikkel dit werk door middel van verschillende residenties zoals BUDA (Kortrijk), Hellerau (Dresden), Productiehuis Theater Rotterdam en WpZimmer (Antwerpen).‍

We willen de lezers uitnodigen om je stuk te zien bij Fringe in september. Kun je de details van waar en wanneer met ons delen?

“Oh, Wild Gazelle, Where Are You?” wordt gepresenteerd op 12, 13, 14 en 15 september als onderdeel van het Fringe Festival Amsterdam. De locatie is LikeMinds in Amsterdam Noord en tickets zijn verkrijgbaar via de website van het Fringe Festival. https://amsterdamfringefestival.nl/oh-wild-gazelle-where-are-you/

Over de 3Package Deal

Bemiddeling voor een woon- en werkruimte en een individueel ontwikkelingsbudget (€25.000) voor talenten, en begeleiding van een interessant en nuttig netwerk - dat is de 3Package Deal. Dit succesvolle programma van het AFK (Amsterdams Fonds voor de Kunst) en Bureau Broedplaatsen van de Gemeente Amsterdam in samenwerking met 45 gerenommeerde Amsterdamse organisaties, die hun netwerk, kennis en locaties voor hen openstellen, wordt nu beschouwd als een best practice op het gebied van talentontwikkeling.‍

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Check out Charmaine on her website and Instagram.‍

Charmaine, you graduated from the Master Photography and Society at the KABK. Where does your love for photography and images come from?

When I was a kid, I got an analog toy camera. I remember the discussions about how many photos I took and the costs of developing them. I loved capturing moments. I also used to browse through the magazines my mom read and was intrigued by a photo of Inez van Lamsweerde and Vinoodh Matadin. In that photo, two women are standing on racing bikes wearing shorts; one holding a raketje (ice cream), while a rocket takes off in the background. That image has always stayed with me; it had something absurd, but everything was right. It may not seem so special with the digital tools anymore, but this was back in the 90s. I was blown away by this photo as a little girl.

Years later, I visited an exhibition of Gregory Crewdson and I fell in love with images. In a video, he showed how he set it all up, and the idea that a concept could be captured forever fascinated me, and then I realized that you could create anything you wanted with photography. I now use my visual work to confront people with the colonial past and its influence on contemporary society. Sometimes I can also be provocative about this. I also see images as a tool for education and dialogue, and to highlight topics that don't get enough attention.

How would you describe your own practice, what is currently keeping you busy in your work?

As a person of color, I find it crucial to visually depict our experiences. My work often focuses on my Surinamese and Dutch cultural background, with a specific focus on colonialism. I mainly use photography and work a lot with archival material. I see working with these archives as a method to decolonize them and bring out new perspectives.

Recently, I completed the start of my project “Een geketende Reis” (A Chained Trip), a project with video, photography and an experiential performance. The central question here is: what does it feel like to have been enslaved in the past? During the performance, the audience was taken into the terrible journey of the enslaved and became an active part of the experience. This project was part of the anniversary year of slavery in Alphen aan den Rijn. Currently, I am working on further developing this project.

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You can't change the whole world with art, but art can change someone's thoughts and perspectives.

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In addition, I am currently working on other projects that highlight the colonial past in different ways and each have a different focus. There are countless stories about the colonial past that need to be told, and I always select another specific topic to highlight. Hopefully, this will encourage people to become aware of the deep-seated impact of colonialism on our current society and history.

You are one of the alumni of the QISSA development process for visual image-makers. What did this process bring you?

I still often think back to my participation; it was a special experience that brought me a lot. It was the best exhibition opening I've ever experienced: very diverse, and the sense of inclusion was strong. I met a lot of new, fun people. The masterclasses were both educational and fun! My participation has given me skills that I can use for the rest of my artistic life.

As a project, I created a book, “The Netherlands is the Best”, that explores and reveals the absurd remains of colonialism that are still entrenched in Dutch society. It started with finding an ad on Marktplaats about necklaces that were once used on enslaved people, and led to much more research. We were given the artistic freedom to develop our vision. Without this freedom, the book would never have become what it is today. We were appointed a coach; mine was Ashley Röttjers, and we had conversations with the exhibition curator, Guinevere Ras. Their guidance and support really made me grow within the project.

What role do you think art and storytelling can play in social change, including looking at your own projects?

You can't change the whole world with art, but art can change someone's thoughts and perspectives. And that person, in turn, can influence others, causing a chain reaction of change, no matter how small or large. Maybe that person changes the minds of two people, but maybe six people. An example of this is a message I once received from someone who told me about my book “The Netherlands is the Best” at school. For me, this illustrates the ripple effect: someone sees my work and then shares it with others. This is how the message spreads.

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My experience as a maker has given me a great deal of insight into the themes of the colonial past and its influence on the present.

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I think art makes difficult themes accessible, it stimulates reflection and awareness, and art projects can promote social change through education and storytelling.

Together with QISSA, we invited you to work as an NDSM Young Curator in NDSM's public space. What made you respond to this call?

I worked as a co-curator several times, and the idea of organizing my own project about the colonial past has been in my head for a while now. In order to do this properly, I want to learn more from professionals about organizing projects/programs and being a curator. The Young Curator project offers the opportunity to learn and do this! I hope to learn how to bring a complex topic to the public in a good way. It is a valuable opportunity to develop new skills and apply them later in future projects.

How do you look at this place? How familiar are you with the terrain?

I think the NDSM-wharf is a special and unique place in Amsterdam. The site is accessible to various target groups, which for me contributes to inclusiveness. I have been to NDSM several times; I watched street art there and, of course, also visited the museum. I also think street art plays an important role at the NDSM-wharf. I used to hunt for treasures at the IJ-Hallen and went there for parties. As a result, I am aware of the versatility of the terrain and the ways in which it is used, which I want to include in the development of the intervention.

What challenges and opportunities do you see within the project?‍

I see it as an interesting challenge to address a diverse target group. I also see the weather as a challenge, I hope it stays dry during the program! I find young makers fascinating, both recent graduates and self-taught artists, and I prefer lesser-known artists who haven't had much exposure yet. So I hope to make new connections with that during the project.

You work as an artist and maker, and as an NDSM Young Curator, you will work more in the role of curator or program maker. How do you look at that?‍

For me, these roles are interrelated. My experience as a maker has given me a great deal of insight into the themes of the colonial past and its influence on the present. Research is an important part of my artistic practice, and I include this knowledge in my role as Young Curator. I think my background as a maker also allows me to empathize well with the artists. I understand the challenges they face. Both roles complement each other and have the same goal for me regarding the theme of the colonial past and the impact on contemporary society.

Can you tell us how the “sense of belonging” theme became a common thread in your projects?

It took me many years to figure out where I belonged, after leaving my very intense, close-knit family home. My grandmother was French, my grandfather and great-grandfather and mother were nomadic and had grown up in a European circus, my father and uncle were classical musicians, and my Scottish mother was a textile artist. We lived in Holloway, London, and I went to the local school. Very early on, I realized that the children at school had a completely different family life than me. I tried so hard to fit in, but I always felt like an outsider. At home, however, I felt loved, belonged and felt very safe. Once I left the house, I had to search for my own sense of “belonging” for a long time. I tried to replicate the sense of family that I had loved so much, but eventually I realized that wasn't what I was looking for. I believed that belonging was one definite thing, probably due to underlying conditioning by education and society, but in reality, belonging is individual and doesn't have to be what you think it should be.

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NDSM is an ever-evolving place with an existing community and new communities that are constantly growing.

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Finally, 20 years after leaving home, I discovered what it meant to me. For me, that was having space and freedom to express myself and be in a relationship where I'm embraced and encouraged to be myself. I need to be loved and have someone to love, but I realized I don't need that by being a mom, which is a big step for a woman to admit that to herself.

Once I understood what feeling at home meant to me, I set out on a mission to discover what it means to others and how understanding the complexities of feeling at home can bring communities together.

What do you think this theme means in a dynamic place like NDSM or Amsterdam-Noord?

NDSM is an ever-evolving place with an existing community and new communities that are constantly growing. By doing the workshops, I gained insight into different perspectives. It was clear that some people saw change as a threat and others saw it as an exciting future. From an outsider perspective, it felt very important that all groups spoke to each other and began to see what the possibilities could be as soon as they began to understand each other.

You did workshops with individuals from Amsterdam (North) as part of the project. How did these workshops influence the development of the artwork?

By listening and understanding different points of view. All the phrases and words used in the installation come from the words people wrote down in the workshops to express how they feel about what's happening, how they'd like to see the future, and what feeling at home means to them. Seeing the energy and creativity in the workshops was incredible. All participants were fully engaged and wanted to share their thoughts and opinions. There was a passion for living in a developing place and they were part of that evolution. Living in a place where they experienced huge changes and learned how to deal with them. Some people weren't too happy and wanted to be heard, while others wanted new things to flourish.

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Belonging can be very fluid and different for everyone, but at the same time a collective experience.

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The workshops brought out a lot of feelings, passion, joy, anger, questions, discussion and emotion. Some stories were about the past and some were enthusiastic about the possibilities. Great personal events were shared and together, an image was formed of a new strong community. The poet Mahat Arab summarized this perfectly in his poem that resulted from these conversations.

“(Leave) Space for Space” aims to create a sense of belonging within the community. How do you see the artwork promoting connections and resonating with the people, both residents and visitors to NDSM?

I hope that the words and phrases that came out of the workshops and now adorn the installation resonate with the community and passers-by. The words are exactly as they were written in the workshop. It's important to me that when I create a collaborative installation, participants can recognize themselves in it and that they feel a sense of ownership and belonging.

Having worked with many communities around the world, I always feel very privileged to have had the opportunity to sit with people and listen to their stories. I'm always impressed and grateful how generous people are with their thoughts and ideas and how much they enjoy sharing and wanting to be heard. I often feel humbled to be just part of the process. Looking for belonging is so important in people's lives. It is not fixed, it is individual. You can find and lose belonging, or choose to look for a different sense of belonging at different points in your life. Feeling at home can be very fluid and different for everyone, but at the same time a collective experience.