Dutch Canadian artist

OLGA LIVSHIN

The new exhibit of Peter John Voormeij’s paintings in the Sidney and Gertrude Zack Gallery is called Through Dutch Eyes III. While that title reflects the artist’s geographic origins, the more appropriate name might have been Through Joyful Eyes, which would have reflected Voormeij’s brilliant compositions and ebullient personality.

Born in Amsterdam, Voormeij knew from a very young age that he wanted to be an artist. He attended a special school for talented children and enrolled in the Art Academy when he was 16; the youngest student there.

“There was a problem though,” he admitted with a wink. “They had nude female models. I was so embarrassed at first.”

In 1965, his father sent him to Canada to evade being drafted into the Dutch army. The young artist settled in Montreal, studying at Concordia University for his master’s in painting.

“In Amsterdam, I received academic training, mostly in the realistic style,” he said. “When I moved to Canada, I fell in love with the abstract art of North America.”

Voormeij has a mastery of both styles now, although abstract painting has supplanted realism as his favorite style.

After graduating from Concordia and teaching art for several years in the United States and the Netherlands, Voormeij finally chose Canada as his second home in 1988. He travels from Vancouver to Amsterdam twice a year to participate in art shows and visit his few remaining relatives. “I don’t have many left,” he said with a sad smile. Sharing the fate of many European Jews, his family was decimated by the Nazis. “They killed 144 of my family members. My father was imprisoned by the Gestapo.”

Voormeij lost his mother when he was three, but, despite so many losses, his art is exuberantly bright; every painting a kaleidoscopic explosion of colors.

“My art is inspired by women, poetry and politics,” he explained. “When I’m in love with a woman, I paint to express my love. When I read poems, I paint to show my joy. When I’m unhappy about a political event, I make a political statement with my paintings.” The artist compared himself to a sponge, absorbing life around him and pouring it out into his paintings as a stream of personified emotions.

“Every morning, I go to my studio, stand in front of a canvas and listen to my mood,” he said, describing his daily routine. “I never know what I’m going to paint until I start. I can’t plan my emotions. In the same way, I can’t say I’ll feel hungry tomorrow. I don’t know that. I have to wake up tomorrow and realize I’m hungry.” But one thing he knows for sure: he has to paint every day. “I feel guilty if I don’t,” he joked, though it sounded like a confession. “It’s a Jewish thing. We Jews always feel guilty about something.”

Buoyant spirits and gloomy contemplations coexist in his art. The largest painting, “Origin,” dominates the front wall, meeting everyone who enters the gallery. With its dark blue and lavender palette, dotted with sharp angles and Judaic symbols, it generates feelings of sadness. “It’s dedicated to my mother,” the artist said. “I lost her when I was so young, it seems I’m searching for her in everything I paint.”

Next to “Origin,” “A Child’s Memory” is marked with contrasting black strokes and colorful splashes of yellow on the white background, invoking images of blond beauties, shining smiles and tragic childhood. “This one is dedicated to my friend Lillian Boraks-Nemetz [a local Holocaust survivor]. She is such a lovely woman, although I can’t read her books; they are too sad.”

Another painting dedicated to a woman is the artist’s declaration of love: “A Woman to be Loved” is a showcase of interlocking colors. The bright arabesques of red and white, blue and orange overwhelm viewers, echoing the optimistic overtones of the artist’s heart.

Azure blue, like the sky on a sunny day, commands many paintings of the current selection. In “We Dance Together,” blue and white swirl like an intertwined pair of dancers. Their complicated duet resonates with the passionate skirls of a waltz, while “Miracle” brings to mind shiny blue crystals, orange sparkles and a tinkling song of a flute. “It was a perfect morning,” the artist recalled.

For Voormeij, abstract art is often allied with classical music, and his paintings reverberate with silent melodies. He even tried to explain one of his pieces by humming the opening notes of a Beethoven symphony.

Since he first picked up his brush, Voormeij has created an astonishing variety of paintings of all themes and sizes. “I once painted one kilometre of ceiling,” he said. “It was a commission for the Council of State Building in The Hague and it took me two years to complete. In Holland, by law, two percent of the cost of every government building must be dedicated to the arts,” he added, lamenting the lack of a similar law in Canada.

Through Dutch Eyes III runs until Feb. 28.

Olga Livshin is a Vancouver freelance writer. She’s available for contract work. Contact her at [email protected].

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