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Dressed-up drawing notes
On this page, I write about the origins,
‘the concept,’
and further developments of the artwork The Dress
that I have been calling ‘Jeu des Aide-Mémoires’ since 2026.
Drawing with memory assistance.
I began this during
an artist-in-residence period,
in Andalusia, Spain, in 2025
“My memory is wearing a dress today”
This sentence is strange.
In any case, as far as I know,
my memory resides within my body.
And sometimes the body wears a dress,
or pants or an apron. Why do I want this?
Why do I sometimes feel uncomfortable
and sometimes festive in a dress?
Why do I want to use the form of a dress
to make a subtle statement?
Because I was born with female
organ systems
and raised as a woman?
Why did the image of a dress
with a long veil come into my mind in Spain?
Why in this place?
I am trying to figure this out through this drawing
process,
through performances and accompanying research.
From rolling to unrolling, from a smooth surface
to the leporello folding
phase of the drawing.
In a sense, the drawing process
began as a kind of daily journal in June 2025
Notes on things that occupy my mind,
such as ways of thinking, language use,
the attraction of forms of degeneration
and, at the same time, the forms that sparkle with
life energy.
It is mid-June 2025
I had been drawing for a week, (soaking up
Andalusian nature and culture)
on a 10-meter-long sheet of paper (unrolled on a
table),
For practical reasons (?!)
I began folding the drawing every 10 cm
after a week.
After a few days, I let go of the chronological
order of the daily drawings
with date notes.
Now I noted and painted daily
wherever I found it appropriate.
In doing so, the folds formed obstacles
to “boundless” drawing.
I tried to ignore the folds
by pressing them flat and
writing and drawing over them.
And the result of the emergence
of the long accordion shape
was a change in the characteristics
of the paper as a whole.
When rolled, the paper was entirely
adapted to curves,
to its curl when unrolled.
Now folded, the long sheet
took on entirely different characteristics.
It became both stiff and flexible at the same time.
This unexpected quality
triggered a chain reaction
of associations.
It is compact when folded,
looks like a promise linked
to a longing,
like when looking at a peacock
whom you know
will eventually
spread its feathers,
so I got an associative cinematic image
of the unfolding
of a long train of a wedding dress.
I experienced the coexistence of a longing
for showiness and an aversion to it
As I played with the possibilities
of the large fold, adding (commentary) notes
that felt like an almost living object-body,
I also thought of a caterpillar,
but because of a certain draping,
I increasingly thought of a white wedding dress.
I wondered what factors influenced
this specific association.
The physical, the earthly,
the patriarchal masculine and feminine traditions,
which are omnipresent
in the culture of Andalusia,
triggered a flood of
personal memories
while I was attending a Catholic procession
in a neighbouring village.
I wanted to do something with this insight and
inspiration.
The residency was almost over, and immediately
afterward
an exhibition was scheduled
in the neighbouring village where I had already
brought work
from the Netherlands.
The new artwork,
which I had tentatively titled “The Dress,”
I wanted to “unveil” in phases.
I hadn’t even tried “the dress” on yet.
I didn’t yet know
all the (alluring and repulsive) qualities of the
garment.
To get to know this new work
and explore my associations with “the dress,”
I took it with me, folded up,
to a nearby village called Corteconcepcíon.
To get closer to my memories of it, I wanted to
visit a church.
The ‘Iglesia de la Corteconcepcíon’
was closed.
So, at the church portal, I hung ‘The Dress’
on the key (which wouldn’t turn)
in the door lock, and from there draped the train
over the steps
and tried to coordinate my movements
with the elegant, fanning motions of a wedding
dress
The next phase of my encounter
with “The Dress” took place
during the opening of the exhibition
“Brota el Pueblo” around
the second church
of Corteconcepcíon.
In the Ermita de San Juan, I placed “The Dress”—
folded and placed in a case,
like a document bearing a promise of longing—
on the back pew.
During the evening opening of “Brota
el Pueblo,”
the villagers and visitors
visited the various temporary art sites around and
inside the church.
After the church closed for the evening,
the exhibition had ended, and everyone
in the church square turned their attention
back to each other, food, and drink,
I brought “the promise” outside and fulfilled the
desire
by theatrically unfolding the leporello
across the church square.
The day’s notes now lay literally on the street,
visible to everyone,
dressed up in ‘art’ with colorfully
painted abstractions
on ‘virgin’ white paper.
The villagers and exhibition visitors
viewed it with apparent indifference
from the café tables across from the church.
This effect—of attention and shift in focus—in
mind,
I took it with me to The Hague for further
reflection.
Thoughts and Associations
My association with the dress refers to
experiences of womanhood,
the daily notes to the need
to gather and retain knowledge.
And the daily drawings refer
to the cyclical nature of life.
I see the dress as a meaningful enveloping
of a body with a memory,
which also undergoes aging
after having once been worn.
A precious memory of a bygone era.
The remnant, an empty shell, after the former
living body
has vanished from it, now yearns for a
transformation.
What kind of dress does my memory wear
today?
A specific type of designed dress can be read
as a culturally determined, meaningful snapshot of
the times.
The person who wraps themselves in it reveals
themselves to others.
The spirit of the times reveals itself in fashion,
role-playing, and rituals;
a dress takes on meaning
to mark a high point in life.
Thus, the dress becomes a christening gown, a
communion dress,
a Sunday dress, a wedding dress, a ball gown,
or evening gown, a mourning dress.
(not necessarily in this order and not just once)
Thus, it becomes linked in memory to hope,
promise, comfort, and the expectations of a
culture.
Is work still being done on the dress
and memory?
What will the dress of my memory look
like tomorrow?
Will my memory still need a dress then?
Or does the dress need ongoing testimonies to live
on as a garment?
The garment is called art. The play with garments
needs help from memories.
2026 Art residence Het Lage Noorden, The
Netherlands
In March 2026, I took “The Dress”
which I now call Aide-Mémoires
to a new place I had never been to before.
I wanted to supplement my memory aid
with notes about new experiences.
I also wanted to explore the playful possibilities.
That is how ‘Jeu des Aides-Mémoires’ came about.
Het Lage Noorden is an artist-in-residence program,
located in the north of the province
of Friesland, and has a very different climate
and, consequently, culture than the Sierra de
Aracena in
Andalusia.
I was curious to see what the Wadden Sea region
would inspire.
Studio view at
Het lage Noorden
Jeu
des Aides-Mémoires, Video stills
Location: Het Lage
Noorden, Friesland, The Netherlands Erf
2026
Detail workproces in
Andalusië june 2025
Details with additions following
the return from a.i.r.Arteventura to the studio in The Hague in 2025
Detail with
additions, a.i.r. Het lage Noorden, March 2026
Thinking
My
memory wears a dress; my knowledge reflects; new knowledge interprets
recognition
September
2026, Studio, The Hague
Words,
names, dates and texts
incorporated
into the train of the dress.
Book 6 page 5 and
6
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situation and a frozen moment in time, 14.9.26 ]