in conversation with
In conversation with Christophe Evers
JOAQUIN PECCI in conversation with
Berend Hoekstra
JP : Berend, we met around 20 years ago. At that time you had just bought a very nice club
from New Caledonia. Do you still have it? BH : Unfortunately, I don’t. And parting with it was painful. I choose the objects I buy very carefully. When I buy a piece I ask myself “could I look at it for the rest of my life”? It is, therefore, rare that a piece leaves my house. Occasionally I have to part with a piece in order to buy another one. The New Caledonian club, a king-size phallus, is in good hands. I glad you mentioned it, though, its time to get it back.
JP: You look at objects so carefully. Do you ever make a mistake? BH:When I see an object that I like, I research it. I ask myself whether I really want it or not. I compare the object with other examples. I trust my eye. I walk around the piece and ask myself if I really need it. I think it is important to select pieces that take you deeper into your collection. But, of course, I do make mistakes.
JP: After people come to Brussels they become very interested in art from the Congo even
though they had been collecting art from other geographical areas. But that was not what happened in your case. BH: After people come to Brussels they become very interested in art from the Congo even though they had been collecting art from other geographical areas. But that was not what happened in your case.
JP: You are a well-known painter. Does tribal art influence your work, and if so, how and to
what extent? BH:Since the very beginning of my career, I’ve always been fascinated by tribal art. But I never really talk about it. In a way, I find it quite pretentious when an artist talks about his relation with art from other continents, as if we were really able to understand it. Though I’m very sensitive to the impact of a sculpture, I’m unable to give a definition of it. I look for intensity, like in the Marquesas art. There is something striking about their art – I would call it concentration. Their vocabulary is quite consistent in a formal way, like the figuration of the Tiki, but the intensity and concentration of Marquesas art runs deep in a magical way. In their war clubs you can find a complex view on life--their mythology, their religion, their whole cosmos.
JP: In addition to the Marquesas Islands, are there other areas that you feel particularly
close to and that speak about your tastes? BH: In Oceanic art, I would say New Caledonia and art from New Ireland, New Britain and some other parts of New Guinea. Currently, art from New Caledonia is very much appreciated, though it has not always been the case. In 1988 I bought a New Caledonian mask from Mia Van Bussel and then a year later, a figure. People in Amsterdam wondered why I would buy such an ugly, grotesque, peasant-like object. The statue looked like the Michelin man. It’s true that its volumes and carving could be considered grotesque. I would also say that this is what makes it a quality object.
JP: In tribal art do you look for the strength, the expressivity, and the emotion of an object? BH: Looking at art from other continents, the position I take is the same now as it was when I began collecting. For me there is only one possible position to take: how can I understand this, will I ever understand? Most important of all is that I might never be able to understand it. These objects are the products of completely different cultures, religions, and mythologies. For me they remain a question mark. I do the only thing I can, I walk around it in circles and, as always, I’m fascinated by something I don’t understand.
JP: Non-European cultures immediately fascinated you. When was your first encounter
with an object? Was it in a museum or in a gallery? BH: I grew up in Breda, where you find the House of Governor, which was an extension of the Leiden Museum. I was 14 or 15 and I liked it so much I started to go there on a weekly basis. Every Wednesday, not far from there, was a flea market. One day I saw a few Chinese figures for 60 gulden, about 30 Euros. At the time that was a lot of money for me so I hesitated for more than one hour looking at the objects and holding them in my hands. Finally I decided not to spend all my savings on them. I left and went back to school. A few hours later I changed my mind and ran back. Unfortunately a delegation from the ethnological museum was already there buying all of the pieces for the museum’s collection. Of course, I regretted not buying the pieces but the episode gave me a good feeling about my eye.
JP: That gave you a good feeling and the encouragement you needed to start buying. But
that started much later, right? When did you actually start to buy tribal art? BH: After school I moved to Amsterdam--that was a big change. I started to go to the galleries but I was always very skeptical about the art they were offering. Finally I saw a French publication, a magazine that doesn’t exist anymore. It was 1985 and there was an article in it about Baudouin de Grunne’s Akan terracotta heads. I didn’t know what they were; nonetheless, I was fascinated by them. I could find similar objects in some of the galleries, boxes of them. Africans walked around with them. I started to go to libraries and found some documentation about their origin and their quality. After this research I finally felt comfortable enough to start buying them. At the time they cost about 50 Euros and I ended up buying about 10 or 20 of them.
JP: It was this event that made you click? BH: I didn’t know who Baudouin de Grunne was, but it was the first time I’d read an arti-
cle about a private collector of tribal art. Subsequently I bought more heads, also bigger ones. What I liked about them was that they were made by widows to commemorate their dead husbands. They were very fine portraits of noble people and the more elaborate the headdress was, the more important the person was. There was a particular sensitivity about them. I really liked them and for two years I collected only Akan heads. I frequently visited all the galleries to the point that I almost felt ashamed because I rarely bought anything. But I learned a lot.
JP: To what extent is the origin important? BH: Not very. I like to look up and learn where the item comes from. This is part of my research work but I’m not ready to pay much more for a particular origin. Today, when I buy an object I don’t need to know about its origin. I know that possessing an item, which comes from a well-known collection, is a way of keeping ties with the collection as a whole, but this is not essential. Art pieces speak for themselves. I see this with some of my neophyte acquaintances who immediately identify the best pieces of my collection. There is a universal intrinsic artistic quality that many people concerned are able to perceive.
JP: So that’s how it was for African art. How about for Oceanic art? BH: In Amsterdam I visited the Tropen Museum, with its anecdotic pieces for children. I
also came across the Loed and Mia van Bussel gallery, and, therefore, to the highest level of Oceanic art. In those days even the oldest Oceanic piece was cheaper than any African object. Africa is a big continent, whereas Oceanic islands are small and scattered. There is less art from Oceania, also because the cultures were destroyed very early by colonization and Christianity.
JP: Did getting in touch with Mia and Loed encourage you to buy? BH: Yes. They had figures and masks but also utilitarian objects and less expensive ethno-
graphic material. When I saw their level and compared it to the other Amsterdam galleries, I immediately understood the difference. That helped me find my direction: it’s not a matter of quantity but of quality. Mia and Loed made it possible for me to buy authentic and good pieces, and they were also great advisors. I still have a good relationship with them.
JP: Was that during the period of your moving to Brussels, in 1993 or 1994? BH: No, it was earlier. I bought my first New Caledonian mask in 1988 and the figure in
1989. I experienced that, as a collector, you never forget the pieces you missed out on. So I have an anecdote about a wonderful mask from New Guinea. It was exceptional, incredibly strong. It was one of the first things I’d seen at Mia and Loed’s gallery and it cost a fortune, it was totally out of my budget. They kept it in the window of their gallery for a while and on my way home from my atelier I always made a detour just to see that wonderful creation. But one day it was no longer there. I asked Mia and she confirmed that she’d sold it. It was stupid of me but I had missed it and there was nothing I could do about it. Four or five years later I moved to Brussels and was passing in front of a gallery on rue Allard and in the window saw the same object. The owner was busy spraying it with an anti-moth spray. I went in and he told me that he got it in an exchange with a Dutch artist. I told him I was interested in it and that I already knew the piece. He offered to take part of the payment in trade for it but, except for terracotta pieces, I didn’t have anything to exchange. The price was already lower than the one asked before so I said to myself “this time you are not gonna let it get away”. I asked for a discount and after some negotiations I got the piece.
JP: Do you think that sometimes there are objects that are especially for you and that there is a sort of magic in the way they come your way?
BH: There have been objects that crossed my path and I could not ignore them. JP: Other than the Chinese figures, is there something else you regret not buying? BH: Yes. I was focusing on ancestors’ cults. I’m interested in skulls. Mia and Loed were in touch with a German skull collector and once they called me after coming back from Germany with three skulls. They were on a table, all of them very beautiful: one was from New Britain, one from New Ireland and the third from the Marquise Islands. The prices were quite high so I could afford to buy only one. I chose the New Ireland one, but I regret not having chosen the New Britain one. Two years later Mia told me that she could again acquire the skull and offer it to me. But then the price was really too high for me and I had to pass on it again.
JP: All these stories bring us to Brussels. After moving here, you soon realized that the level of galleries here is higher than in Amsterdam. In Brussels you met important African art dealers like Marc Felix, but your main interest was Oceanic art. In Brussels there were not many dealers specializing in Oceanic art. BH: Even before moving to Brussels, I came here on a regular basis. Sometimes Pierre Loos had some Polynesian clubs, as well as Stephan Grusenmeyer, but there were not many sculptures available. Then I met Kevin Conru and we became friends. One day in Paris I was walking on the Champs Elysée. At that time––it was in 1999––I had an exhibition in Amsterdam at the Stedelijk Museum. I saw Kevin on the other side of the street and he screamed to me “your name is on the wall of the Stedelijk!” In fact, there was a big banner outside the museum announcing the exhibition. He crossed the street and we shook hands. He said that he was interested in my art and that he wanted to come to my studio. He bought a few of my paintings and that’s how things got started. In addition to Mia and Loed, he also made it possible for me to buy Oceanic art.
JP: I have a lot of friends and collectors of contemporary and modern art who are also very interested in tribal art, but for some reason the opposite rarely happens. Can you explain this? BH: Often it means making a big change and people don’t want necessarily to make such changes. Often top collectors of primitive art see contemporary art just as decoration. It’s a pity because they have sharp eyes, they would just need to make the effort.
JP: But there are excellent contemporary artists who have great tribal art collections, and also mediocre artists who have good collections. How do you explain this?
BH: The opposite is also true. Sometimes I go to the studio of some fellow artists and I see
objects there that totally shock me. I wonder how it is possible that they actually bought them. I remember seeing an Easter Island figure in an artist’s studio. From far away I saw that it was not good, but I did not want to comment on it. It was he who asked my opinion. Then he was insulted and said that being an artist himself, he was in the best position to judge someone else’s creation. I think this is a totally wrong and presumptuous approach. Stupidity is human. I think it’s a pity that there is not more communication between the two worlds. I don’t only listen to music from the 16th century and, sometimes I buy works from other contemporary artists. It’s my way of being part of the present.
JP: You had the chance to buy from very good dealers, like the van Bussels and Kevin Conru. What do you think of the new generation of dealers? Do you see these people as competent and passionate? BH: Recently I’ve seen new faces on the market. I appreciate Serge Schoffel, Kellim Brown and Michael Thieme. They go for quality, they take risks. Besides they come from outside and this is good for Brussels. Also good for Brussels is the yearly visit of Sandy and Tad Dale. As people and dealers they hold a special place. They have a great eye for rare and non-classical objects. Some of my most special objects come from them.
JP: What do you think of sellers from different backgrounds taking an interest in tribal art, such
as the big auction houses? BH: I don’t really have an opinion about this, but in any case, auction houses don’t work very well for me. Maybe I’m too slow in making my decisions; the hammer of the auctioneer is hard to follow. I feel privileged to be in contact with good dealers who also became friends and helped me build up a small collection. We need experts and we need them to be responsible. Most of the objects we talk about have an important place in other cultures, they are related to religion and ancestors and they deserve maximum respect and to be preserved for future generations. It is a mandate for restoration: I think it’s crazy that a mask originally was black and tomorrow appears on the market white. It’s a bit like in nature: you cannot do what you want with our planet, otherwise nature strikes back. In the same way if dealers are only focused on the commercial aspects of the objects, and not enough on the spiritual one, sooner or later that will work against them. They shouldn’t be surprised if people don’t come back to their galleries and if there is a general mistrust of dealers.
JP: In a way, TAS is working exactly in this direction. We have dealers, even the younger ones, who are passionate, competent, correct, and have the right spirit. BH: If this is the case, then TAS should voice their position with a load, clear voice. Many discussions held behind closed doors result in collectors turning their backs on dealers.
JP: But the objects sold at auction houses were usually once in the hands of dealers. BH: I know. These days, people seem to have more trust in the auction houses and that’s just
weird. There’s no reason why it should be like this. I’m sure it will change. A good relationship with a dealer you can trust and who knows your taste and your collection is a precious thing. I would recommend anybody who is starting a collection to spend at least a couple of years finding someone with whom to share your first considerations, someone you trust, someone who knows your taste, someone who will help you build a good collection.
JP: You are married to a woman who sells books. That says a lot about your passion for books. BH: Books provide information. I need information to get closer to an object. I want to know as
much as possible about an object, even if I’m not going to buy it. I think knowledge is the only way to get closer to objects. I believe it is important for every collector to have a big library.
JP: Is there an object in particular that you dream of having? BH: A dark New Caledonian figure awaits me in Paris. JP: Which piece would you save first if there was a fire in your house? BH: I can think of two objects, one for each hand. First, the New Caledonian mask that confronts me every day. The second object is a completely different one. It’s a Fiji Islands pendant. The hole is so extremely thin that if the owner had worn it one more day, it probably would have broken through. It is magically erotic, delicate and sensual.
JOAQUIN PECCI Tribal Art