ELLIE VOSSEN 1948-1998
INTRODUCTION
Franck Gribling
ELLIE VOSSEN
Jan Walgrave
I LOVE PAPER BECAUSE IT SUCKS
ELLIE VOSSEN 1948-1998
Riet van der Linden
EXHIBITIONS
BIBLIOGRAPHY
ILLUSTRATIONS
I LOVE PAPER BECAUSE IT SUCKS
ELLIE VOSSEN 1948-1998
1948-1973
Revolution in the air
Ellie Vossen was born in 1948 in Bunde, a village outside the
city of Maastricht in the southern Dutch province of Limburg. She
was the youngest of five children in a Roman Catholic family of
shopkeepers.
After completing her secondary education, she studied fashion
at Maastricht’s Stadsacademie art school in 1964 and
1965. But her artistic ambitions went beyond fashion design.
Moreover, she wanted to break with her familiar surroundings and
to stand on her own two feet. In 1966, following a brief spell at
the Instituut voor Industriële Vormgeving (the
Institute for Industrial Design) in Eindhoven, the 18-year-old
left for Antwerp with her friend and colleague Hetty van
Boekhout. Here, she took the entrance examination for the
Koninklijke Academie voor Schone Kunsten
(KASKA).
KASKA was an extremely traditional art school. By contrast,
Antwerp was a dazzling and sophisticated city in the 1960s where
– unlike Amsterdam - Dutch Limburgers were given a
privileged position. Ellie Vossen immediately felt at home in
Antwerp and she was to live there for the rest of her life.
After studying textile techniques for four years at KASKA, she
attended a post-graduate course in monumental art at the Hoger
Instituut Antwerpen from 1970 to 1973, and was able to
continue working independently in her own studio. She was a
successful student and won various prizes. It was during these
years that she also developed her interest in philosophy and
politics by attending Professor Nagels’ lectures in
cultural history.
Meanwhile textiles and fashion still exerted their allure, and
she was making her own clothes that frequently involved
extravagant creations that made her the centre of attention. In
addition, she was now working in her studio at the Hoger
Instituut on her first monumental sculptures that entailed
jute and rope. The art world was in full swing. Textile art was
particularly exciting at that point and the first examples of
these developments had been shown at the Lausanne International
Textile Biennale that was set up in 1962. This Biennale, which
was a tremendous stimulus and example, had been set up by the
French artist Jean Lurçat, to encourage the design and
weaving of modern wall hangings. But a number of Eastern European
artists, including the Pole Magdalena Abakanowicz, had pushed the
art of weaving in unexpected and revolutionary directions by
creating monumental works with free, sculptural forms.
During the 1960s, an increasing number of artists, including
Ellie Vossen, discovered the potential of textiles as an
autonomous, artistic medium. Form, material and technique
were researched in new ways that were not based on either
functionality or tradition, an approach that was used in other
art forms.
These new developments were soon copied in the Netherlands. In
1968 the Frans Hals Museum in Haarlem organised an exhibition
called Works in Textiles with nine artists including Loes
van der Horst. This exhibition was an important event because it
introduced the Dutch public to the modern textile art forms of a
new generation. Amsterdam then followed Haarlem’s example.
Between 1969 and 1989, the Stedelijk Museum held a large number
of exhibitions such as Perspective in Textiles (1969),
Structure in Textiles (1974) and the Miniature Textiles
Biennale (1982). There were also various one-man shows by
artists with a new approach to textiles who had begun to operate
in the art world on an independent basis. These included
exhibitions by Loes van der Horst in 1973 and 1981, Sheila Hicks
in 1974, Herman Scholten in 1974 and 1991, Daniel Graffin in
1977, Jagoda Buic in 1978, Anna Verwey in 1979, Margot Rolf in
1984 and Desirée Scholten in 1987.
However, there was a downside to the museums’ enthusiasm
for the new textile art. The artists who had been brought
together in Haarlem had completely different approaches and were
in no way a group. Their only link was the material that
formed the basis of their selection. Nonetheless, they were
subsequently seen as being a cohesive group of textile
artists, a label that would create difficulties for some of them
for the rest of their lives. By basing exhibitions on the
material rather than on individual artistic starting points,
textile art would be constantly associated with feminine
‘handicrafts’. For instance, the Stedelijk Museum in
Amsterdam began to collect textile art on a relatively large
scale but only for its department of applied arts!
Textile art’s emancipation had also spread to Belgium by
the beginning of the 1970s. However, the attitude towards its
innovations was considerably more guarded, as Jan Walgrave writes
elsewhere in this book. Just as in the Netherlands, the new
textile art was presented in Belgium as a separate category of
exhibition despite the different starting points of the
individual artists.
Ellie Vossen was aware of the difficulties facing the new
textile art. But with her Dutch background and her interest in
both monumental art and textiles, she mainly felt inspired by the
new avenues that were opening up for her.
1973-1975
A love-hate relationship with textiles
A photo dating from the 1970s shows Ellie – long-legged
and colourful - standing next to an imposing textile sculpture.
The photo was taken in her studio at the Hoger Instituut
in Antwerp and was probably made just before the work was
transported to the 6 x Antwerp exhibition that was held at
Roermond’s Gemeentemuseum in 1973.It is a spatial
object made of unbleached cotton rope that is almost three metres
long and hangs from the ceiling. The sculpture resembles a living
organism with tentacles and aerial roots. This early, expressive
work by Ellie Vossen is a typical example of the spatial hanging
sculptures that were made from the beginning of the 1960s. Its
sheer size, its dramatic, primal power and the use of natural
materials reveal the unmistakable influence of the Polish
pioneers of textile art, such as Magdalena Abakanowicz and Tapta,
who were much followed.
Ellie Vossen soon shifted her focus away from the
material’s organic effect and onto a more conceptual
approach towards shape and space. Here, she may have been
inspired by American sculptors such as Oldenburg and Christo, who
at the time were exhibiting at the Wide White Space Gallery in
Antwerp.
Her development is clearly documented in three detailed
designs for monumental, spatial sculptures that also date from
the early 1970s. The first, somewhat surreal drawing is for a
vertical floor sculpture of three ropes that have been wound
together. The three ends of these thick ropes enter the wall at
the same height so that they look like pipes that are connected
to an energy source that drives them and twists them together
into a human form where the frayed strings at the other end
create a thick shock of hair.
A second, less dramatic drawing shows a sturdy, upright plait
that is once again made of three ropes and where the ends make a
rapid, rotating movement.
A third drawing shows the design for Variable
Situation, a space-filling installation that was made in two
versions. A photo of the maquette (scale 1:10) of the first
version, which dates from 1972-1973, shows what looks like a soft
sculpture of a machine that consists of two cylinders or drums,
one of which is connected through a tube to a chaotic heap of
rope from which a vertical pipe emerges and disappears at an
angle of 90 degrees into the wall. The cylinders are covered with
jute that has been crudely sewn together with rough, upright
seams of stitches. The design shows the cylinders rotating as if
they are being driven.
It was during this phase of her development that the studio
visit took place that Jan Walgrave remembers elsewhere in this
book. The Belgian National Commission for Arts and Crafts had
asked him to prepare an exhibition called Contemporary
Ceramics and Textile Art from Antwerp, which was to be held
at the De Sterckshof Museum in Deurne-Antwerp in 1974. He
did not understand these textile cylinders and tubes, ‘one
of which was a good three metres high’, but nonetheless
included the second version, Variable Situation II, in the
exhibition.
Variable IIwas similar to the first version but the
cylinders or drums had been ‘wrapped’ in pieces of
canvas in a way that is reminiscent of Christo.
Just how narrow-minded Belgium still was at that time is
illustrated by the scandal created by Jan Hoet, the director of
Ghent’s Municipal Museum of Contemporary Art, when he
bought a ‘flying machine’ by Panamarenko in 1976. In
1979 he was even threatened with the sack for purchasing
Wirtschaftswerte by Joseph Beuys!
Ellie Vossen (who greatly admired both Panamarenko and Beuys)
was a part of the dynamic of that era with her portrayal of
mechanical processes. That same zeitgeist is exuded by a
series of machine-like drawings that the American painter Eva
Hesse made in the mid-1960s during a period spent working in a
former textiles factory in Germany. It was in this factory that
Hesse created her first sculptures from the textile materials
that were just lying around.
Hesse belonged to a small group of avant-garde artists in New
York. Her new work was recognised and placed in the context of a
general movement of artistic innovation that included Christo,
Oldenburg with his soft sculptures, and many others who used
textiles as a medium. Ellie Vossen, who as a young installation
artist had not yet found her place in the gallery and commission
circuit, allowed herself to be incorporated into Jan
Walgrave’s group of ‘textile ladies’.
Marie-Jo Lafontaine, a Belgian contemporary of Ellie Vossen,
initially participated in the same group shows including the
Textile Art Triennale in Lodz (Poland) in 1978 and in the
Contemporary Textile Art in Flanders exhibition in 1979.
Lafontaine opposed being excluded from thecurrent art debate and
the fine arts world because of being labelled a ‘textile
artist’. Her monumental, monochromatic wall hangings were
considered at first to be a form of applied art. She felt that
this was completely unjust because her objectives could be
compared to those of the Minimal Artists she admired such as
Robert Ryman and Brice Marden. Her arguments resulted in her
black monochromes being exhibited alongside sculptures by Carl
Andre at the Palais des Beaux Arts in Brussels in 1978.
She had already switched to video and photography by 1979, which
is what she is now known for.
The Dutch artist Loes van der Horst (born 1923) has also spent
her life fighting the stigma that she feels is associated with
the term ‘textile art’. For that reason she decided
to stop participating in the Lausanne Biennales in 1973.
Ellie Vossen never spoke about this issue in public but,
according to her friend and colleague Hetty van Boekhout, she did
not want to be seen as one of Walgrave’s ‘textile
ladies’.
Meanwhile she was hard at work and she taught art several days
a week to support herself. She must have mostly spent the rest of
the time in her studio. In 1974 she entered a maquette of her
7 plus 1 installation for the 7th Lausanne
Biennale. The international jury, which involved both Willem
Sandberg and Edy de Wilde, judged the 765 international
submissions and selected just 60 participants including Ellie
Vossen.
1975-1976
Larger Than Life
7 plus 1 was a continuation of Variable Situation I
and II. The sculpture consists of four supple tubes of woven,
unbleached cotton that have been strengthened with iron and where
each tube has a diameter of 15 cm. Together they create a loose
interweaving of two horizontal and two vertical forms on a base
measuring four by five metres. The frayed ends of the woven tubes
are contained in large drums or cylinders of transparent plastic.
One of the eight drums has been placed upright outside of the
base and is connected to a tube that has been pushed upwards.
Just like Variable Situation I and II, it suggests a
mechanical process that evokes the atmosphere of a laboratory
experiment by the use of cool plastic and white cotton.
The colossal sculpture was given a prominent place at the
7th Lausanne Biennale right in the centre of the main
hall of the Palais de Rumine. The regional press in
Limburg, Zeeland and Flanders focused on the Limburger Ellie
Vossen, who was also the only participant from
Flanders.
Paul Haimon discussed her work in detail in his review of the
Biennale in the Limburgs Dagblad of 21 July 1975. Under
the headline ‘Ellie Vossen from Bunde in Centre of
Museum’, he described ‘the project that is based on
the principle of weaving’, as ‘a monument in textiles
for controlled movement’. He portrayed Ellie as a tall,
young woman who was ‘one of the most remarkable figures at
the private view because of the casualness with which she wore a
fashionable, long garment that was inspired by Eastern
costumes’. Ellie’s response was dry but amusing:
‘I studied fashion for two years in Maastricht so
it’s not difficult to dress tastefully and for a reasonable
price.’
Piet Sterckx of de Nieuwe Gazet interviewed her on 9
May 1975 under the headline: ‘Ellie Vossen Elevates
Textiles to Sculpture’. Her hands were bandaged when he met
her on the day that her work was to be sent to Lausanne. She told
Sterckx that to complete this work, she had spent four-and-a-half
months plaiting the six-metre-long tubes in the cellar of the
Hoger Instituut! Sim van den Bos, a ballet dancer friend
who helped her with this work, remembers that during this time
Ellie Vossen suffered from both agoraphobia and hyperventilation.
The many hours of monotonous work must have driven her to the
point of physical exhaustion. She came from a generation that
believed that you had to suffer for your art. For instance,
Marie-Jo Lafontaine described herself as a human machine, an
extension of the loom. Lafontaine based her approach on the
assumption that her extreme exertions would charge her hangings
with an energy that the viewer could experience on a physical
level.
In the interview with Sterckx, Ellie remained reticent about
the interpretation about her work’s content: ‘I
can’t deny that there’s a form that grew from my
heart and intellect, and that undoubtedly there’s a whole
world either in it or behind it, but I don’t like people
trying to pin it down in some concrete way. However, I have to
say that the work is more than just playing around with
materials. For me, the beauty of the cotton or the fabric is just
not enough in itself although it used to be some years ago. When
you first start working with these kinds of materials, you always
fall slightly in love with them. (...) That’s why I started
to work in a more detached way. And perhaps that’s also why
I’ve added metal and plastic to the textile materials. To
be honest, the textile’s presence is almost coincidental.
I’m concerned with the sculptural aspects. The
sculpture’s eloquence – that’s what
it’s all about.’
These are the words of an artist who was working on a
particular program and was well aware of the prejudices
concerning textile art.
Loes van der Horst had already assumed this same, detached
attitude towards both materials and technique in 1968 when she
participated in the previously mentioned Works in Textiles
exhibition at the Frans Hals Museum in Haarlem. Van der Horst
stated quite openly that she had switched from painting to
textiles for purely practical reasons. And just as Ellie Vossen
opted for plastic and iron, Van der Horst was one of the first to
use smooth, synthetic fibres, ‘which were not burdened with
connotations of natural warmth or domesticity’! The fact
that textile art assumed such monumental proportions at that time
may have partly been a reaction against these prejudices. For
instance, Ellie Vossen told Sterckx that ‘small works are
too close to amateurism. They really mustn’t turn into bits
of knitting.’
Several months later (22 July 1975) a full-page article by
Paul Maartense was published in the Provinciaalse Zeeuwse
Krant under the headline: ‘Ellie Vossen (27) in
Lausanne Biennale. Textile Sculptures Acquire Strength and
Dimension Through Size and Spatial Effect’. The article
begins with a quote by Ellie Vossen where this time she agrees to
discuss her work’s content: ‘This sculpture depicts
the complexity of human relations and connections. The trunks,
which are reinforced with wire and woven from natural-coloured
cotton, represent the life lines that are attached to transparent
cocoons that emit life that then finds its own way’.
Maartense introduced Ellie Vossen as an artist who, before
Lausanne, ‘had reached the ceiling of anonymity’ and
was mainly conspicuous in exhibitions ‘for her work’s
colossal dimensions’. Maartense: ‘She regards her
inclusion in this prominent world exhibition for textile and
tapestry as an initial breakthrough for greater recognition and,
more importantly, as an acknowledgement of her style, originality
and working method’.
When Maartense brought up the subject of her work’s
size, Ellie commented:
‘A textile sculpture is not necessarily good because
it’s big and it gets all the attention and is impressive.
(...) Nonetheless, a large textile sculpture will communicate its
intentions more rapidly and directly because the viewer is
physically involved with it. This is actually the most important
reason why I love working on this scale.’ This remark
clearly shows that Vossen, like Lafontaine, primarily focused on
communicating with the viewer. Her comments also distinguished
her from an artist such as Loes van der Horst, whose monumental
installations were a response to the spatial environment. This
difference in approach was possibly connected with the lack of
policy for this area in Belgium. ‘A large work should be
integrated correctly into the architecture and there are not
enough opportunities for this’, was what Ellie Vossen told
Maartense. ‘I’ve never had a commission and
I’ve never sold anything at an exhibition. I have lent a
work (Variable II, R.v.d.L.) to the museum in Roermond,
and I think that that’s quite an achievement’.
Vossen was well aware of the international developments in the
textile art of the day. She praised the progressive artistic
climate in the Netherlands that, in her opinion, had overtaken
the Eastern European countries and had gone into the lead with
America. By contrast she felt that textile art in Belgium was
still essentially considered to be an artistic craft that was
made by ‘the little woman (sic) behind the loom’.
By the time this interview took place, she had apparently
overcome her resistance to small-scale work. This was possibly
because she now had the prospect of a one-man exhibition at the
De Zwarte Panter gallery in Antwerp. Vossen told Maartense
that for a change she was ‘also working on small,
relief-based textile objects where the changing light creates
different visual patterns and shadows.’ She added:
‘The relation between this work and the viewer is
completely different. A small textile object on the wall
excludes the space around it. The viewer must adopt a more
cerebral attitude. He stands opposite it calmly and passively so
as to be able to grasp its intentions.’
1976-1978
‘The event is an entire human life’
(Wout Vercammen on Ellie)
In the spring of 1976, Ellie Vossen made her solo debut at the
De Zwarte Panter gallery in Antwerp with the exhibition
Number Tapes Weaves and 7 plus 1.
Many former KASKA students felt that they had acquired a new
home in the gallery of Adriaan Raemdonck, who was also a former
student. De Zwarte Panter was already housed at its
present location in the Sint-Julianusgasthuis hospital, an
historic complex at Hoogstraat 70-72 that also includes a
spacious chapel. Photos of the exhibition show that the chapel
created the perfect ambiance for 7 plus I and her new
mural work. This new work consisted of a series of suspended,
diamond-shaped rectangles, which involved transparent plastic
plaits that had been cut into strips, along with the Number
Tapes Weaves that entailed a series-based investigation of
woven tapes that took the rectangle as its point of departure.
This exhibition was commended by the Belgian Association of
Art Critics as being one of the season’s best solo shows in
Belgium.
The Number Tapes Weaves series was particularly well
received. This work was actually a personal interpretation of the
various basic principles of weaving and was created in number
tape, which is used in the textiles industry for indicating
clothes sizes. Using this narrow white tape, with the numbers
woven into it in red thread, she wove various types of weaves
such as flat weaves, twilled weaves, waffle weaves along with
twisted and double fibres, which resulted in a great variety of
surface structures. She constantly increased the complexity of
the woven structure by applying different kinds of weaves within
a single composition and by using both the front and the back of
the number tape, which she called positive and negative. The
visual potential of the red numbers was exploited in an ingenious
way that accentuated structures, varied and shifted the line
constructions, and deepened or blurred the colour so that a cross
shape, a centre formation or a star-like form could be created.
She succeeded in achieving poetic effects particularly by
utilising the abstract back of the tape with its threads that had
been loosely attached and detached.
‘The work looks extraordinarily sensitive, mostly like
pink-tinted miniatures where the numbers on the back of the tape
suggest Arabic script’, wrote the critic Paul de Vree in
De Periscoop of September 1976.
Ellie Vossen had an extraordinary sense and control of her
materials. Aesthetic qualities flowed in a completely natural way
from the harmony that she created between the material, the weave
or structure and the colour.
The exhibition at De Zwarte Panter was opened by
Florent Bex, who at the time was the director of Antwerp’s
International Culture Centre (ICC), which was an important
platform for experimental art in the 1970s. In his opening
speech, the notes of which are still stored in the De Zwarte
Panter archive, Bex was referring to Marshall McLuhan’s
The Medium is the Message when he described her work as
‘an extremely elemental investigation’. He felt that
Ellie was ‘one of the few to withdraw from the
medium’s tradition.’ However, these compliments,
which clearly made her ‘one of the boys’, were only
partly true. Although she was certainly involved with an
extremely elemental investigation, she had not withdrawn from the
medium’s tradition. On the contrary, she had explicitly
chosen weaving as the starting point of her investigation, which
in turn had resulted in an austere geometry that had much in
common with the Zero Movement. Moreover, she was not interested
in a pure l’art pour l’art approach, as Paul
de Vree also noted in his comment: ‘Ellie Vossen calls her
work ‘number tape weaves’ and it is precisely the
word ‘weave’ that refers to the reflective side of
her intentions.
Apart from the number tape, she had also begun to use text
tape during this period, which she had made in a small factory
that she had discovered. Two small text tape works that measure
20 x 20 cm, and are called Square and Circle, can
be seen as witty comments on Minimal Art because they literally
refer to themselves. Circle consists of a combination of
unbleached cotton, a white text tape with the word
‘circle’ woven into it in red thread, and red pencil.
A square containing two concentric circles has been drawn in red
pencil on a rectangular scrap of unbleached cotton. The drawing
is divided by horizontal pencil lines where the distance between
these lines is the same as the width of the letter tape. The
letter tape has been woven alternately into the cotton in the
inner most circle.
Her self-confidence would have certainly been boosted by her
participation in the Lausanne Biennale and her subsequent,
successful exhibition at De Zwarte Panter, which was very
important in terms of her acceptance within the fine art circuit.
Notes that she made between 1975 and 1979 about the Number
Tape Weaves (or ‘small works’ as she called them)
show that they sold well. The number tape, as combined with her
virtuoso technique, made this work both unique and extremely
aesthetically attractive. Her systematic and regular working
method, the geometrical structure and the modular construction
(the repetition of numbers and words) were in keeping with
Minimal Art. The use of prefabricated, everyday materials imbued
this work with a contemporary and authentic character.
Her contact with Wout Vercammen, with whom she had a happy and
intimate relationship between 1976 and 1980, was of considerable
importance. Vercammen, who worked with Hugo Heyrman and
Panamarenko on countless happenings in the centre of Antwerp
during the 1960s, had both an interesting circle of friends and
good contacts in the art world. Moreover, she relaxed when she
was around him and was able to unwind.
In 1978 Ellie Vossen recorded in her notebook the details of
her latest work in the 180 x 180 cm letter tape series:
Large diamond (with cross). Text tape positive x
negative.
Silver or black tape in transparent Plexiglas frame.
Spatial work that can be seen from both sides.
(Owned by Bernard Blondeel)
This monumental work, which was freely suspended in the space,
formed the apotheosis and the definitive conclusion of her
involvement with the concept of positive/negative. The front and
the back had completely merged into each other and no longer
formed an antithesis.
Large Diamond was exhibited in 1978 in the
Fattura exhibition in Bernard Blondeel’s Spectrum
Gallery in Antwerp. This exhibition was the first group show that
Ellie Vossen had participated in that did not focus on textile
art. Here, she was the only woman and the youngest artist to
participate alongside six Antwerp artists who included Wout
Vercammen.
This was an exhibition of works by experimental artists: Luc
Deleu was represented by a design for an alternative housing
project with house boats that were partly self-supporting; Filip
Francis attempted to create a bridge between performance and the
practice of painting by, for instance, painting with both hands,
with his feet or while blindfolded; Wybrand Ganzevoort had
produced DIY kits of constructivist sculptures; Dominque
Stroobant had made photos with a camera that he had built
himself; Thé van Bergen had created a series of paintings
where he explored the principle of originality, and Wout
Vercammen presented perverse, handwritten Dada-esque texts such
as ‘Legalize Consciousness’.
It was amongst these works that Ellie Vossen exhibited
Large Diamond along with her latest work that consisted of
relief-like ‘wall hangings’ of cellulose paper on a
textile support, which involved the documentation of a controlled
capillary process of absorption.
A black-and-white photo from the Fattura exhibition
catalogue shows a freely suspended canvas in the form of a
vertical rectangle with a modular structured composition that
consists of 26 rows of nine paper handkerchiefs. The paper
handkerchiefs are still folded in the same way as they were in
the packet. They have been placed seamlessly next to each other
in a horizontal direction and stitched onto a black canvas
support with a sewing machine. Colour has been applied in a
special way that creates a relief effect with an upward and
downward movement.
The work, which is called Vertical Movement, measures
180 x 100 cm. The composition has been systematically structured
according to a plan that had been determined in advance and was
implemented in various stages. The paper handkerchiefs had been
‘treated’ before they were sewn onto the support.
Ellie Vossen first made 26 stacks of handkerchiefs, each of which
was placed for a certain length of time in a measured quantity of
water to which a dye had been added. The first stacks were left
to absorb the fluid until they were saturated, after which she
adjusted the process so that each subsequent pile absorbed less
and less until the point where the paper stayed completely white.
Once they were dry, the 26 stacks were separated into single
handkerchiefs and placed in rows that were analogous to the
absorption process: the darkest rows are at the bottom with the
colour gradation developing in an upward direction. The
composition reveals both the regularity of the absorption process
and the course of time.
On the basis of Ellie Vossen’s previous statements, one
can assume that this work also entails more than simply playing
with materials. A vertical strip runs through the middle of the
composition, which is as wide as a single, folded handkerchief,
where the colour gradation occurs in a downwards and, therefore,
in an unnatural direction. Human intervention in a natural
process is revealed here in the form of an artificial
reconstruction.
Just as the Number Tape Weaves were Ellie’s
personal interpretation of the basic principle of weaving, once
again this work creates a bridge between the female tradition of
handicrafts (in this case, the appliqué technique) and
Minimal Art. The dye technique that was applied here has much in
common with the great textile traditions of India, Japan and
Indonesia where dying textiles is regarded as an autonomous art
form, particularly when dye resistant techniques are involved.
The growing interest in non-Western cultures in the 1960s and 70s
led to the artistic application of these techniques both in
Europe and the United States. Ellie Vossen’s fundamental
approach to the controlled capillary process of absorption as
linked to ecological considerations is, so far as I know, unique
in the art world.
Apparently this was also the opinion of Bernard Blondeel, the
owner of the Spectrum Gallery, who purchased Vertical
Movement and also organised a one-man exhibition of her new
work in that same year.
As always, her writing consists of brief working notes and
small sketches. Under the heading ‘Spectrum’
Exhibition 6 Oct.- 4 Nov. 1978, she describes thirty works
that clearly indicate the course of her development. Just like
the Number Tape Weaves, she began simply, on a small
format and without using colour. The works’ complexity was
then increased systematically.
The first ten ‘cloths in small Plexiglas cases’,
as she called them, measure 50 x 50 cm. She started with a series
of three that are now owned by Sam IJsseling, the philosopher and
expert on Husserl, with whom she had a close
friendship.
Series of 3.
White handkerchiefs cut in two(small squares) on a
silver-grey background.
Stitched with white silk (no visible seams).
Beneath this description are three small sketches of identical
squares that are transected by a diagonal line: from the lower
left-hand corner to the upper right-hand corner, from the upper
left-hand corner to the lower right-hand corner and two diagonals
that cross each other. In the numbers that follow, she began to
play with the formal potential that the material provides as a
support: she utilised the raw seams so as to create a variety of
surface divisions and structures that are constantly based on the
square.
For the first time she mentions the use of colour in Work
Number Nine:
Violet-blue drenched handkerchiefs (square) stitched on
black material.
Crude seams so pronounced relief.
(owned by Philip Francis)
This process-based work left little to chance. In a separate
notebook, which she reserved for technical details, she collected
colour experiments and she carefully recorded each work’s
colour, the duration of its immersion process and the number of
hours that it took to complete.
The first ten works were followed by a series of three
monumental canvases measuring 180 x 100 cm, which were entitled
Vertical Movement, Vertical Movement + Horizontal
Confrontation, and Vertical Counter-Movement (Middle
Sections White).
This phase was concluded with Black Spring, a canvas
measuring 280 x 190 cm that was shown at various textile
exhibitions in Flanders, Poland and Norway. Just as the Number
Tape Weaves evolved into spatial work, she now began to make
three-dimensional objects in paper: the Stacks.
She wrote in her notebook:
20 ‘little packets’ of handkerchiefs tied
together and drenched o r dyed. Owned by Guy Stevens, Sam
IJsseling, Angèle Bourgonje, Herman de
Ceulenaer, and Bernard Blondeel.
1979-1980
I love paper because it sucks
In the summer of 1979 Ellie Vossen was invited by Florent Bex
to participate in an international group exhibition at the ICC
called Art with Paper as Work/ Work with Paper as Art.
Ellie Vossen and Lena Halflants were the only women amongst the
13 exhibitors.
Each artist was given two pages in the simple, black-and-white
catalogue to present illustrations and a personal statement.
Ellie Vossen limited herself to an illustration of a half-open,
folded paper napkin on which she had written in ink in block
letters I LOVE PAPER BECAUSE IT SUCKS. This sentence,
which was unusually exuberant for her, was written like lines at
school in three rows beneath each other on the lower surface of
the napkin. The first row is clearly legible, the ink has run in
the second row and in the final row the words have been absorbed
into the ink.
On the opposite page of the catalogue are six photos of the
six sides of a cube that document the controlled capillary
process of absorption. Here, a cube consisting of a stack of
paper napkins has been tied together with string in such a way
that it has divided four of the sides into two while the top and
the bottom have been split into four. The cube was then immersed
for a certain length of time in a measured quantity of water to
which a dark dye (ink?) had been added. This dye saturated the
bottom half of the cube and was then sucked along the strings so
that a pattern was created. The effect of damp on the bundled
paper and the drying process reveal the paper’s capacity to
expand and contract as a material while its texture is
reminiscent of the surface of textiles. The cube as an object is
purely the documentation of natural processes but, as a part of
the installation that Ellie Vossen made for this exhibition, it
has now acquired an engaged context.
All the artists in this exhibition explored the fundamental
characteristics of paper and many of their statements could have
been written by Ellie:
Eric Croux: ‘In my work, paper is not simply the
work’s support, it is the work itself. (...) Irregularities
in the systematic rhythm create surface tension’; Alex
Nijs: ‘Apart from the act of “painting”, the
support is also involved in the painting’s process’;
Frank van den Berghe: ‘Since 1970 I have been trying to
upgrade my material (materials) to the level of matter. For these
pieces, regularity and innate characteristics have been essential
for visualising my ideas’.
Ellie Vossen’s contribution to this exhibition went a
step further. She presented an installation that resembled a
happening and had been carefully prepared. This installation can
be precisely reconstructed on the basis of two, detailed plans
that she made and to which she added a hand-written explanation:
Plan (1) Material/Working Process
Material: 25 cellulose paper napkins that have been tied
into bundles. Each napkin measures 20x20 cm, the bundles create a
cubic form measuring 100 x 100 x 20 cm.
Working Process: the bundles of paper are placed in a
quantity of fluid. The way in which the dye is absorbed into the
material is determined by the amount of dye and how long they are
immersed for.
Duration: the period of the exhibition.
Amount: a) to be determined by the number of people present
at the exhibition’s opening and their desire to co-operate:
a particular quantity per visitor.
b) ... litres are added for each day of the
exhibition.
c), d), e), etc.
The Dye’s Composition: a) water from the River
Scheldt.
b) each day’s coffee grounds from the ICC coffee
machine.
c),d), etc.
Plan (2) Fluid Container.
Plan (2) consists of trials of the immersion process involving the fluid container that was made from a plastic sheet with fastenings on each corner to which a rope could be tied and attached to the wall or ceiling. This plan also includes the installation’s definitive version where the sheet has been filled with a quantity of fluid and the 25, cube-like bundles of cellulose paper napkins have been arranged to form a square as based on a formation of 5 x 5. The austere modular construction of the square and the emphatic materiality of the cubes, which are slowly saturated with the waters of the River Scheldt and are turned increasingly brown with the coffee grounds that are added with each new visitor, imbue the process of change (which each visitor contributes to) with a fixed and regular structure. A photo of the installation’s construction shows Ellie Vossen and five colleagues, including Wout Vercammen, toiling away with funnels, buckets and a sounding rod. Vercammen remembers that period well: ‘Questioning yourself, engagement as opposed to structure, was becoming increasingly important for her. She experienced the “dye-absorbing images” as the height of freedom.’
Belgian art had reflected ecological issues since 1975, and
had been influenced by events such as the publication of the
Report to the Club of Rome. By contrast, the
organised women’s art movement, which had
spread to Europe from the United States during the 1970s, failed
to catch on in Belgium at that time.
Ellie Vossen was certainly aware of feminist publications, but
her attitude here is not clear. Her documentation includes a
somewhat extraordinary project that dates from 1979: a fictional
letter to the Anti-Professor Siemershof Department. In
this letter, she writes that, through an intermediary, she has
come into possession of a number of manuscripts and
autobiographical notes by Julia Siemershof-Vuylsteke, the wife of
the afore-mentioned professor. This lady had submitted a
manuscript called Scorching Grievances of Ladies to a
number of publishers in vain. In her letter, Vossen offers to
send this eight-volume text to the headquarters of the
Anti-Professor Siemershof Association . She also states
that, now that her husband was the subject of considerable
scandal, Julia Siemershof-Vuylsteke felt that the time was ripe
to write her memoirs. She already had a title: ‘Growing
Together and Growing Apart; Looking Back on My Marriage with
Prof. S. But for practical reasons, she could only begin
working on it once her divorce had become final and the alimony
had been settled satisfactorily! A page from Imaginary Books
in Eight Volumes by Julia Siemershof-Vuylsteke includes a
scorch mark that has been made by an iron on plastic.
Probably Vossen was poking fun at the so-called confessional
literature of the women’s movement of the day that included
Anja Meulenbelt’s The Shame Is Over, which was
published in 1976 and caused a great deal of commotion. However,
this project may have been more than a mere joke as is
demonstrated by the 1981 exhibition papiers
d’affaires in Amsterdam’s Stempelplaats, where
this piece was shown alongside work by Peter Oosterbos, Agnes
Smit and Rien Timmers.
Ellie Vossen had now assumed a special and prominent position
in the Flemish textile circuit, which had been pioneered by Jan
Walgrave. Lausanne was apparently no longer an option. A work by
Ellie is featured on the cover of the catalogue that accompanied
the 1979 exhibition Contemporary Textile Art in Flanders,
which had been organised by Walgrave. This show with work by 12
women and one man opened at De Warande in Turnhout and
then travelled to Lillehammer and Bergen in Norway. Three
Number Tape Weaves, measuring 70 x 70 cm and dating from
1975, were included: Nine Diamonds, Line Structure and
Dégradé. Squares (Resist Dyeing), a 1978
work measuring 200 x 200 cm, was also shown and was included as a
black-and-white illustration in the catalogue. Squares
consists of a square constructed from 25 squares (5 x 5). Each
square is made from 18 folded paper handkerchiefs that had
already been drenched in fluid, seamlessly placed next to each
other and stitched to a canvas support in such a way that a edge
was left on all four sides. The 25 squares were then crudely
stitched together onto the front. The raw edges of the material
create a grid effect so that the support has become a
constructive element in the composition. The handkerchiefs’
upper edges bear a slight fingerprint that the dye could not
penetrate (resist dyeing). Walgrave wrote in a short text about
the work that: ‘Her art is not based on singing colours or
a sparkling imagination; it is the silent witness of her logical
and constructive mind that is revealed in an austere
aestheticism’.
The exhibition showed a wide variety of works by the artists
who at that time determined the face of Flemish textile art:
Lieva Bostoen, Jacques De Groote, Veerle Dupont, Marie-Jo
Lafontaine, Lut Lenoir, Liberta, Leen Lybeer, Marga, Ingrid Six,
Corinne Toussein, Hetty Van Boekhout and Edith Van Driessche. It
was a cross section of textiles’ diverse potential: from
weaving and embroidery to wool reliefs, small, spatial
installations and woven wall hangings.
1980-1983
Spirituality
Ellie Vossen’s curriculum includes a visit to Japan in
1979. In fact, she was to visit the country on several occasions.
She was extremely interested in Eastern culture and aesthetics,
the traces of which were to become increasingly apparent in her
work. She still used paper as her exclusive material, with the
controlled capillary process of absorption as her
technique.
Apart from the exhibition Merchandise in Montevideo in
1983, her work would only be included in textile art group shows
from 1979 onwards. She had not been reviewed by the art critics
since Lausanne in 1975 and her one-man exhibition at De Zwarte
Panter in 1976.
She showed the ‘little packets’ of bound and
drenched or dyed paper handkerchiefs, the Stacks which she
began in 1979, as small autonomous sculptures. That was until her
work took a new direction. She began to separate the tied bundles
and to hang the unfolded napkins as separate sheets underneath
each other in long, vertical strips on the wall.
The folds in the earliest examples form a cross with a dark,
star-like structure at the centre, as if an explosion had
occurred. Each sheet came from the same bundle and therefore had
a similar pattern that, thanks to the working process, was
subject to slow, serial changes. In another work, the cellulose
napkins were hung over each other like roof tiles that created
yet another new pattern when viewed in its entirety. This work
has a spiritual quality; it is free and less controlled.
In 1983 she included a new series of these Dye-absorbing
images in the group show Merchandise at
Antwerp’s Montevideo. A photo of this exhibition shows two
pink-red ‘wall hangings’ that hang in vast, vertical
strips across an untreated brick wall. These hangings consist of
square paper napkins that have been placed right next to each
other and stitched in rows of nine onto a textile support. The
resulting patterns are once again very systematic, and the
composition has been developed in the usual way with a colour
gradation that moves in an upward direction. The squares on the
top row have only a vague red dot at their centres like the
Japanese flag. When viewed in its entirety, this work looks like
a radiant dawn.
There was much emphasis on colour during this phase of her
development. The composition’s structure still involves a
grid form but the patterns flow into each other organically and
without lines.
After this exhibition, her curriculum mentions two other shows
in 1984 and 1989. And that was it.
In 1992 and 1993 she made a series of small squares of
drenched and painted tissue paper. Some of the squares include a
separate V form that has been painted on a monochrome background
on which ‘sutures’ have been applied in crude
stitches. There are also studies from 1995 for a monumental
commission that was never realised. Two, related abstract
compositions in yellow marl sand are her final
works.
Epilogue
When the axe entered the woods, the trees said:
one of us is the handle
(Ellie Vossen’s favourite
haiku)
Franck Gribling met Ellie Vossen in 1988, and all the time
that he knew her there was a large package in her cupboard on
which had been written: ‘In the event of my death, please
destroy the contents without opening or reading them’. The
contents of this package, which her family removed after her
death in 1998, are unknown. With so little personal information
available, it is tempting to speculate about them. What was it
that she could not or would not part with during her lifetime?
Were they personal memories? Or her collection of fluff from
Vercammen’s navel that, as he tells us, she collected as
‘notes’?
Who was Ellie Vossen? The image that emerges from the stories
of friends and colleagues is completely contradictory. There is
the Ellie from the early years in Antwerp who was determined to
live in a passionate way. There is the Ellie who suffered from
stress and hyperventilation. And there’s the Ellie with the
image of the strong and independent woman, a perfectionist who
wanted to have everything under control, and whose demands of
herself became greater and greater. This was a woman who
travelled a lot because she could only relax on journeys. She
loved cats, and was a woman who felt that the little things in
life were important. And she was a woman of taste who felt
attracted to Eastern aesthetics and philosophy.
Ellie Vossen belonged to a generation of engaged women who
fought for autonomy and an independent, professional existence.
Her friends and colleagues say that she loved to talk about art,
but rarely about her own. As I understand it, art formed her
frame of reference from which she tried to come to terms with
life.
During her brief career as an artist, she first operated
within the world of monumental art but found it impossible to
achieve her ideal of working with architects on her own. As based
on the principles of weaving, she then developed a form of
Minimal Art that related to the fundamental research of the
1970s.
Weaving entailed order, the systematic and structure, and gave
her a sense of security. But weaving was also the perfect
metaphor for what she was involved with on a contemplative level.
In addition, the combination of horizontal and vertical lines as
a grid was one of the formal principles of Minimal Art. But in
practice, textile art and Minimal Art were two separate worlds
that she nonetheless managed to span.
Ellie Vossen was also an enthusiastic teacher of art. She
taught for more than 15 years at the Academie Sint Joost
art school in Breda, where she was one of the few female teachers
and was the source of much support for her young, female
students. Her educational views were inspired by the Bauhaus and
she championed a broadly based, general basic curriculum that
emphasised a knowledge of materials and techniques. Art was
always central to her thinking, and probably education provided
her with the satisfaction that she no longer found in her
artwork.
Her art career stagnated in the mid-1980s. International art
movements with utopian ideals had made way for radical
individualisation. The interest in textile art and in Minimal and
Fundamental Art was on the wane. Times had also changed in
Antwerp. Florent Bex, the inspired director of the ICC and the
stimulator of young Antwerp artists, lost his job in the
mid-eighties.
In the more than ten years that Ellie Vossen worked
systematically on her oeuvre, art critic reviews were limited to
the regional press and to some Minimal pieces in simple
catalogues. After that she and her work faded into the
background. A factor that possibly played a role here is that
– despite her unconventional use of materials, crafts and
working techniques – she was always stuck with the label of
being a textile artist.
Florent Bex knew Ellie Vossen well but failed to stick up for
her. In his recently published book Art in Belgium after
1975, Ellie Vossen – who was one of the few women
artists in the small group of innovators in Antwerp in the 1970s
– is only included in the list of names along with a select
number of her exhibitions and the date of her death.
Significantly not a single textile exhibition is
mentioned, not even her participation in the Lausanne Biennale.
In 1976 Adriaen Raemdonck of the De Zwarte Panter
gallery donated 7 plus 1 to the Museum van Oosteinde.
Ellie Vossen died in 1998.
Riet van der Linden is an art historian and a freelance
journalist. She worked from 1984 to 1995 at the Foundation for
Women in the Visual Arts in Amsterdam where she was
editor-in-chief of the women’s artists’ magazine
Ruimte, Vrouwen en Kunst.