- In Short
The garden is a sacred place with an audible inner voice.
In the hortus concluses of the city, through the cracks in the pavement, on very small waste lands, against facades, a jungle is flourishing. Perhaps as Mondrian needed his horizontals and verticals to find a visual language, a structure allows the watercolours to flow. With sheets of bamboo paper glued together, forming a grid; with schedules, calendars and weekly plans as a mental underlayment. Straight through the middle; the jungle in your head. What is garden, what is city, what is jungle, what can artists do to keep that city liveable. And what about those plants, of beauty, of edible, of an insect order, of cooling, of oxygen production, of native species, of colonial robbed species. Just plant?! These are the musings of Jolanda Schouten.
“With a tiny purple eggplant in the palm of her hand, from her stamp-sized city garden, she stood in front of him. Deep purple and super proud. She talked about her gardens, her almost lusty love for rooting in the earth, about how happy it makes her, how she can relax, how she can sink into her body. The same feeling that comes to her when painting her enormous watercolours, in that one moment of coinciding with a brush, with purple watercolours for example. The garden is a sacred place with an audible inner voice.”