Following Observation,

Drawings by Hans Lemmen

“Know that it is not imagination, but experience, which makes poetry.”[1]

In the drawings of Hans Lemmen, the image seems to have been committed to the paper without hesitation. It is set down in concise lines, in pen and ink. The clarity of line suggests that the image itself is also clear and definite. And in a certain sense, it is: the images are so surveyable that they appear to the viewer in a single glance. But anyone who attempts to describe the drawings of Lemmen will notice that they are difficult to put into words. Though it is easy to designate the individual elements - man, woman, tree, house - that cannot be said about the constellations in which they appear. These can only be indicated in a general way: a man fits himself to a (cramped) niche in a tree. A nude, spotted woman bends her hand into a panther-like claw. A tree trunk topped with a mysterious building lies in the water like an island. The amazing, sometimes dreamy, sometimes surrealistic atmosphere that these images exude can hardly be evoked in words, or it would have to be poetry.

Despite the fact that each drawing is independent and seems to be contained in itself - the visual compositions are often ‘complete’, cut-outs and fragments being rare - they clearly refer to each other. That is particularly due to a recurrence of certain motifs. The man-woman-tree-house sequence can easily be expanded: dogs, birds, deer, hills, power pylons, tents, arrows, swords and stones can often be seen as well. In addition to these motifs, certain subjects continue to crop up, too. Aside from that of drawing itself, they can include such matters as the building of a house and being on the road / on a journey. And various drawings by Lemmen deal with the confrontation (or the encounter) of man and beast. The two frequently exist in close proximity to each other, sometimes to the extent that one could speak of a symbiosis or that they literally merge with each other: almost as a matter of course, people change into animals and vice versa. Other types of transformations also occur with apparent matter-of-factness: the growth rings of a tree become circles in water - that which seemed to be fixed is fluid, and vice versa. Another aspect of Lemmen’s images is that blood often flows in them - not infrequently, there are amputated creatures, and cutting, chopping, stabbing, dissecting or skinning is being done. But with this violence, one can by no means speak of excessive dramatics or the intent to create a poignant effect. Even the cruelest image is put in perspective: by way of strange distortions, by humorous or even poetic-looking details.

The images, as evoked by Lemmen in clear lines, possess an almost archaic quality; they are, as it were, ‘lifted from time’ and seem to elude the temporal and the incidental. The overall, and perhaps even universal human recognizability of these images is further heightened by the linguistic nature of Lemmen’s drawings, which is to say that motifs are employed as fixed schemes. This gives rise to a kind of visual language, in which an ear (for example) always appears as a particular type of ear: this, and not that, is how it looks. In a way similar to that in comic strips (for example) the drawings are inhabited by one type of dog, one type of woman, one type of tree. When any deviation is made from these fixed images, not only the form but also the meaning of the image changes, as though a different word is being used.

The composition of large forms and the apparent simplicity of the image give the drawings an imposing character which startlingly contrasts with their actual size. [2]  For in reality these are fairly small works with dimensions averaging about twenty-five by thirty-three centimeters. Hans Lemmen draws directly with pen and ink, never using a pencil and eraser. He has a rapid and irrevocable way of working; throughout the process of drawing, little can be adjusted or corrected. The result is either satisfactory or not.

To Lemmen, it is important that a drawing also becomes an object, that the paper not only functions as the support for the image, but that it possesses a certain materiality in itself. With his earliest drawings, for instance, he was known to splash a bit of water on the paper, and thus dampened, the lines to be drawn on it would bleed slightly. Sometimes a cup of coffee was more readily available than water, and the brownish tint produced by the liquid coffee gave the drawings a patina that Lemmen happened to like, as it further underscored the ageless character of his images. In a later phase, entire stacks of drawing paper were bathed in coffee, and each sheet of paper acquired its own identity due to the emergence of spots and shrunk edges. The spontaneous formation of mold was also regarded as a meaningful addition. Pigment eventually replaced the coffee, since Lemmen sought optimum durability. This is why he also experimented with different kinds of paper. Nowadays he applies a casein solution to the paper before drawing. The casein acts as a transparent buffer, which prevents the ink from seeping into the paper too quickly while he is drawing and allows him to work longer on a drawing. If desired, a suggestion of spatiality can be brought about by using a wash on the drawing.

By providing the drawings with a patina, making them look ‘old’, the archetypal character of the images is further accentuated. In connection with this, Lemmen tells about seeing ex-votos and nineteenth-century drawings on a trip through Mexico. What he discerned in these was “the same atmosphere in which people undergo the strangest vicissitudes in a state between slight surprise and acceptance.” [3]

When Lemmen sits down to draw, this is not done with the ambition that the images ‘written down’ by him must come from his own mind. He sooner has the feeling that his images come from a reservoir which, in a certain sense, is suprapersonal and describes general human emotions and actions. In order to tap this reservoir, a mixture of concentration and absent-mindedness is required: the concentration to ‘tune in’ (as with a radio) to the wavelength at which these images are located, the absent-mindedness to give the images room to surface entirely. As he draws, the artist himself is primarily an outsider and observer: he sees what is appearing on the paper and looks at this with amazement. It should be no surprise that the most intriguing drawings of Lemmen are, in fact, dedicated to the matter of drawing itself.

Hans Lemmen mainly considers himself a sculptor, and though drawing is essential to him— a kind of second nature, he literally cannot abstain from it—he has regarded it, until several years ago, as something which takes place on the fringes of his artistry. The very matter-of-factness with which his drawing is done prevented Lemmen from counting his drawings as ‘actual work’. “I kept on thinking: work is toil and doesn’t come naturally, but the drawings do.” Increasing appreciation for his drawings caused him to start looking at them differently and attaching more importance to them.

For Lemmen, drawing and the making of sculptures are closely related to each other; in fact, the sculptures usually originate in drawings: “A sculpture is a drawing that has been contemplated. Sculptures often first appear as drawings and then, possibly much later, become crystallized into sculpture.” On the other hand, the drawings possess a sculptural quality for Lemmen, as it has been said that he regards them as objects. [4]

Despite this close relationship, the act of drawing and that of working on sculpture can differ immensely, particularly when this concerns sculpture for public space. This often involves long processes, where one can speak of many factors and outside influences on a political and social level, as well as from a technical point of view. The development of such projects contrasts sharply with his drawing, which is preeminently an individual endeavor and which, until recently, has had a distinctly private quality.

Although the drawings of Lemmen mainly seem to evoke a dreamed world - one dominated by cat-like women, vicious dogs, slender deer and winged men - on closer consideration, this dream world proves to be intertwined with everyday life. Those who become acquainted with the artist’s immediate surroundings will recognize a great deal from his drawings in them. The details then become less ‘whimsical’ than they seem to be (not that this detracts in any way from the captivating nature of the images). The houses in Lemmen’s drawings seem to be grafted onto the ample Belgian farmstead that he inhabits with his family and is constantly repairing and renovating, and the landscape that he draws is reminiscent of the rolling countryside in the Haspengouw region, where power pylons look like alien signal towers and age-old trees are ruthlessly felled. The world of Hans Lemmen is that of countless individuals whose desires, fears and vicissitudes gave rise to humanity’s ‘treasure of images’. He shows us a reality which can only be seen ‘following observation’ and which is highly personal, yet recognizable to many.

Jonieke van Es

Footnotes

1 - Statement by the American filmmaker, photographer and publisher Ira Cohen, on a CD which he produced together with DJ Cheb I Sabbah (The Majoon Traveler, Sub Rosa) in 1996.

2 - Occasionally Hans Lemmen has indeed executed a drawing as a wall painting.

3 - The statements by the artist quoted in this article have been taken from conversations and e-mail correspondence between Hans Lemmen and the author.

4 - This has also been expressed in the manner of presentation with earlier drawings. These were shown not as autonomous works, but in a particular setting: after being sealed in plastic, they were ‘forged together’ into a roll of several meters. In yet another work the drawings sealed in plastic constitute the walls and roof of a small house.