Bericht van de regenmoeder 1950 - 2009

Editor: Here we have Harrie Gerritz's "Bericht van de regenmoeder" – "Message from the Rain Mother," made between 1950 and 2009. It's a linocut print that feels surprisingly playful given the title. The geometric forms are arranged in a way that feels almost like a visual poem. What do you make of its symbolism? Curator: Oh, a visual poem is spot on! It tickles my brain in delightful ways. The Rain Mother… I imagine her less as a figure of stormy wrath, and more as a gentle giver of life. The figure diving into those angled lines of rain, are they surrendering, or gifting life? It reminds me a bit of early modernist experimentation with abstraction – thinking about how Joan Miró or Paul Klee may have interpreted ancient myths. It plays with the flattening of perspective... but in a light-hearted way. Editor: That's a wonderful point. It is like a dreamscape rather than a realistic scene. What do you mean by the 'flattening of perspective'? Curator: Well, think about it: we have the figure at the top, the celestial forms beside it, the rectangle and the abstracted land at the bottom. There's no sense of spatial recession as you’d get in Renaissance art; everything's on the same plane, inviting you to move around the image and connect with each symbol on its own terms. It makes me wonder, is it 'raining' down to the land, or is it rising back up? Editor: That's a cool way to look at it, I was stuck in my interpretation. So, do you think the extended production period is significant? Does this suggest anything about the evolution of the work? Curator: Good eye! That long period makes me wonder about the artist’s relationship to the piece. Perhaps it was a work he kept returning to, reinterpreting his initial vision over time as his artistic language evolved. The Rain Mother, sending messages across decades... What better metaphor could there be for art itself? Editor: Exactly. This makes me appreciate that things aren’t always what they seem. Thanks for broadening my perspective. Curator: And thank you! I’ll certainly think differently next time rain pours, seeing gifts rise upwards too!