Self-portraits of Lique Schoot
Self-Portraits of Lique Schoot
Ans van Berkum, art historian
All you can say about portraits in general is that they actually enhance, said the renowned art historian Henk van Os ever. That comes to mind when I look at Lique Schoot's work.
Her subject is her own face and she works from photographs. When you look at her work more deeply, you see a self-absorbed woman, mysterious, luring. She looks into the distance, or to the viewer that sometimes can not be determined. Her gaze is both empty and full. Her inner representations seem to fill it from within, while the outside world is indifferent to her. Her wavy hair, her creamy skin glows. The pillow behind her head is blood red. The erotic association is inevitable. But she also deals with the sacred, with the perfect innocence. Call it pure femininity.
All 'hineininterpretieren', I know. But everyone will do this who looks at these paintings, consciously or unconsciously. The poses are how you look at it, not to mention neutral. The woman depicted is an idol, a dream. Each painting seems to be using the program photoshop. We see images that promise and promise again, until becoming crazy, and you do deflate like a tired admirer who wonders what he is busy with.
What Lique Schoot does with herself in her paintings, she will never use at the living matter. Her only artificial beautification is her eye makeup. With an eyeliner she draws her eyelids every day along the lashes and draws the lines in the outer corners. Her eyes are two fishes swimming towards each other. She wears this makeup since her sixteenth. She is also very frugal. Her dress is black. A side along a sweater, some clips in her hair. Is this sensationalism? Is that flirting? Absolutely none of that.
Standing next to the maker of the paintings I feel like a spectator right to. We both look at a phenomenon that has arisen there. All the way there, where nobody in his head having to take the director to perform. By making a painting so close to the skin of reality it becomes clear that through art we step into another world, where laws rule that nobody knows.
In Magdenburg she made portraits of her stay, every day and shut it off with a poem by South African Ingrid Jonker: "I just want to travel with my loneliness, and believe that I am unique". It's like Schoot is saying: And once again, I leave my image as a kind of object trouvé, accidentally found on a street corner, thinking, 'What is this?'