What's in a man's mind
Travels with Ysbrant
Wiepke Loos
The legend of the 'Flying Dutchman' tells the story of a seventeenth-century ghost ship, doomed for eternity to roam around the Cape of Good Hope, at full sail and against the wind, bringing misfortune on all who encounter it. The captain of the Dutch merchantman, on its way to the East Indies, brought the curse upon himself by calling on the devil as his ship threatened to founder in a storm on Good Friday. The crew is dead; spectres carry out the rudderless captain's orders. Over the centuries this tale has inspired countless writers and composers, among them Walter Scott, Heinrich Heine, Richard Wagner and Simon Vestdijk.
The phantom ship found its way into Ysbrant's imagination as well. His interpretation is captured in a monumental painting (approximately four by five metres) now in the collection of the Stedelijk Museum in Amsterdam. The artist here uses the theme to give visual expression to his personal world: his loves, muses, motivations and fears. He himself is the main character, the captain of the ship that rushes towards the viewer. On board we find a heterogeneous collection of his favourite people and objects. A tiny figure among the teeming masses, Ysbrant tries to steer the reeling ship, to flee from the horrors of life, from the evils that threaten him and his passengers. Emerging from the chaotic cityscape to the left and right are myriad dangers: rape, murder, bureaucracy, noise pollution and all sorts of modern inventions. Plugs, electrical wires and iron grabs are his symbols of destruction. Hideous insects plague the travellers, while the captain's thoughts flash from his brain like lightening. Ysbrant himself spoke of the work as illustrating what's in a man's mind.
Besides the artist himself, a number of other figures can be identified. We see Anna, Christina and Marianne, as well as a woman with a lovely bare thigh and a playful hairdo who appears to have climbed over the port side at the last minute. A number of tantalising female characters from literature and the Bible are also brought to life: Judith, Salome and Gretchen, all dressed in flamboyant baroque costumes, with lots of bows and sporting provocative stockings. Also on board is Adriaan Raemdonck, the Antwerp dealer who gave Ysbrant the huge chapel at Galerie De Zwarte Panter, for three months so that he could complete The Flying Dutchman. Two of Ysbrant's friends from the Zwarte Panter circle still need to be picked up from the urban jungle: Fred Bervoets and Jan Cox, the latter appearing as a television cowboy. The German painter Max Beckmann and the French sculptor Rodin -artists of an earlier period much admired by Ysbrant - are also fellow travellers, represented by the central panel of The Departure and La Vague, respectively. His admiration for these two seems to have arisen from their love of modelling and movement, as well as their preoccupation with memory and symbolism. A number of Ysbrant's other passions can also be seen: a friendly bulldog, seated near the Beckmann painting, represents England. Candles and champagne are ready for the coming night.
This jumble of (cut-out) figures and objects, apparently randomly strewn under, over, in front of and behind one another across the picture plane, is characteristic of Ysbrant's work at the time. Still, as complex and confusing as these compositions seem at first glance, there is always a sense of structure supporting the whole. In the case of The Flying Dutchman, the large V-shape of the ship and the vertical line of the mast form the basis. The space is then 'stitched up' within the prevailing pattern. The evil outside world moves - counter clockwise - like a whirlpool around the ship. Although in this fragmented world figurative elements remain recognisable, the real subject of the painting is its own making. The 'how' is far more important than the 'what', even though real motifs are always the starting point. Although he has no need of abstraction, Ysbrant thus paints paintings, not stories.
Nonetheless, there is a certain amount of abstraction in the representation of space. In fact, there is no recognisable space at all, no natural landscape or horizon. This is a new kind of space, created by the artist, into which the viewer literally plunges. The focal point is at the top; the colours are darker here than at the bottom, where the painter used a considerable amount of white. The aim of this ascending line is to create the impression of a floating mass. The dense compositional scheme has an almost two-dimensional quality. Ysbrant has spoken in this context of the influence of both Disney cartoons and Japanese prints.
The Flying Dutchman, with its complex composition and virtuoso colouration (with plenty of red and blue, but also silver and gold), has a pronounced dramatic character. Ysbrant was well aware of this theatrical aspect. Indeed, The Flying Dutchman turned out to be a kind of prelude to the theatre sets he would eventually design. Fulfilling a long-held dream, he later painted backdrops for the Antwerp and Amsterdam productions of Antigone (1985), Beeldbeschrjving (1986), Oidipoes/Kommentaar (1987) and A Midsummer's Night Dream (1997).
The ship continues on its way, besieged by its enemies. The captain stands at the wheel, tense but determined to bring his heroes and heroines to safety. Is the end of the journey in sight? Until now he has been able to defy the elements; he will, and must, triumph.
