This painting shows my little sister Jorah in the spring of her life, where the world begins to open before her. Yet for the first time in her life she experiences it without siblings by her side.

Jorah is surrounded by flowers that grew alongside her during our childhoods. The forsythia bush whose buds marked the coming of warm weather, the daffodils that lined our driveway pushing resiliently through snow. Asters and echinacea that sprung up in the garden as we played through the yard.

January's Snowdrop and October's Cosmos 

This portrait depicts myself at eighteen and two years old. As I worked, I reflected on themes of womanhood and metamorphosis. The struggle between the desires to evolve and change while also clinging to an idealized time of innocence and untainted imagination.

 

This portrait represents a transitional time in my life and the lives of many around me, moving from my home and community to a new one overnight. Through collage I represent the blending of old environments into a new. Visibly belonging elsewhere, but seemingly fitting into place.

The figure, my dearest -but at the time, new- friend, a place for the eye to seek rest from the vibrant and busy world art her. In this “utopia” is the perceived promise of hope and prosperity in the beginning stage of adulthood

This body of work follows the women of my maternal line. The strength and nurture of these women, their mothers and daughters, has carried our family for centuries. Despite their enduring influence, their stories and lives are most at risk of being lost to time. As a child I poured obsessively over old photographs of my family, asking the questions Who are you? How did you live? I was awestruck by the fact that each black and white photo had a  lifetime behind it, and overwhelmed by the fact that each of those lives directly created my own. 

The landscapes work as a tapestry of places, stories and events in the lives of each woman. While I am aware that there is no project capable of truly representing each woman in their entirety I attempt to preserve the lives of my beautiful and courageous foremothers by celebrating their memory and retelling the stories they passed down the line.

 

 

 

 

This charcoal  portrait depicts Klaaske Douwes (b. 1868- d. 1930), my 3 times oerbeppe  [great-grandmother]. She wears traditional West Friesian dress including  a linen over cap and Oorijzer “ear iron”. 

Klaaske's landscape or "lifescape" consists of sweeping Friesian fields and farmlands. Inspired by the lands she, her ancestors, and descendants built their lives on for a thousand years.

Eanjum (Oostanderdeel), Friesland Netherlands.

This charcoal drawing is based off of a photograph from my 2x oerbeppe, Ankje Dijkstra [b. 1890- d. 1975] while in her early twenties. By the time this picture was taken she was married and a mother. She lived near a field of yellow and red flowers, and could be seen people watching from behind a white curtain at her window. Her kindness is her legacy, remembered fondly by her grandchildren as a mother to all. 

 

Her lifescape consists of the same rolling fields of her mother, as well as the windmill De Joung which was erected during Klaaske’s lifetime. Among the distant houses is the home of her daughter, the canals her grandchildren skated on during frigid winters, and the buildings she walk by as a girl. In the foreground is the church which saw the baptisms of her children, who would grow up and carry her story with them.

 Eanjum (Oostanderdeel), Friesland Netherlands.

This portrait depicts my oerbeppe Sietske Turkstra [1917-2003]. She was named after her mother’s little sister Sytske who died in childhood. Overriding the traditional pattern of naming first born daughters after their father’s mother, Sietske’s name instead stemmed from love of two sisters. 

Sietske’s lifescape carries on recurring environments and landmarks. Fields scattered with steeples marking each towns, the home where she and my oerpake (great-grandfather) ran their bakery and raised the first of their nine children. In the foreground is the line’s first introduction to the Unites States, a promise of new life away from the memories of the war. In this place my resilient, playful, pius, musical oerbeppe buried her youngest child and raised the rest. Through her labor she changed the trajectory of our families path. 

Eanjum (Oostanderdeel) and Leeuwarden, Friesland Netherlands. Holland Michigan, USA

In 1946 Sietske had her first child, my beppe. She was given the name Ankje, after her maternal grandmother. In her early teenage years she moved to the US with her family. There she was required to “Americanize” her name, changing it to Annette. Despite the distance from her homeland Beppe never gave up her identity, passing down her culture and her name to her descendants. 

The lifescape accompanying this portrait has the United States (Michigan) and the Netherlands interwoven throughout. A clock tower where Sietske taught her to tell time is visible from her house. In the distance stands the campus where she became the first in her family to go to college. There sits the Friesian house where Beppe was raised and the “Benjamin House” which saw her four children and four grandchildren grow up. 

Eanjum (Oostanderdeel) and Pinjam, Friesland Netherlands. Grand Rapids and Montague Michigan, USA.

At the time the photo used for this portrait was taken, my mother, Elizabeth Byl [b.1978] was in her early twenties. She had moved from her primarily Dutch American community of West Michigan, to Western Massachusetts. In a place utterly know to her this could have marked a step further from Dutch culture for the line. Instead Liz raised her children to know and be proud of their multicultural identities.

Elizabeth’s lifescape shows both the home she grew up in and the home she grew her own family in. The patchwork-like environment embodies the movement of her life. The fields of West Michigan and Friesland melt into the dense forests of Western Massachusetts, weaving a new age into the tapestry of our family. 

Being a first and second generation American, whose home culture was very distinct from those who I grew up around, has had a profound impact on my identity. Rather than seeing myself as split between two cultures I see myself as embodying both, something I am only able to do thanks to my family's intentional dedication to preserving our multicultural identity. 

My lifescape includes the three major origins of my identity. Trinidad (the land of my paternal family), the Netherlands, and the United states. The landscape includes symbols that at this point in the series would have been recognizable across all six generations. The newer environments  such as a the high peaks of Trinidad and the Berkshire mountains mark a new stage for Klaaske’s lineage. 

Montague and Williamstown Massachusetts, Grand Rapids and Montague Michigan, USA. Friesland Netherlands. Paramin, Trinidad.

 

This piece is inspired by a recurring dream I had over the span of my life. It took place in a mossy, dark forest after a recent rain. From the boulders and mossy rocks came came forest trolls, draped in greenery and mushrooms. If they did speak to me I don’t remember what they said, and if this dream had a meaning that too has been lost to me. But sometimes as I drift off to sleep I wonder if I might find that peaceful place again. 

If I could not get back to this dream world naturally I hoped to recreate it in the way I love most, through art. This painting is meant to mimic the whimsical eeriness of dreams. The scene uses the artificiality of the teal water, fluidity of the trees, and the unbelievable idea that children could remain clean while sleeping on the forest floor, to give the scene both an inviting and unnatural atmosphere. 

As an artist and particularly as a painter, connection to the past is at the center of much of my work. The stylized rigidity of old academic oil paintings always captivate me, as someone who adores both portraiture and history. 

In this portrait I attempt to pair regal esotericism and grandeur, with the warmth and personality of a contemporary and empowered woman. I attempt to draw connections to the history of oil painting while looking on towards the future.

Another pillar of my identity as both a person and artist is my imagination. As a child I would “prance” according to my family, I would bounce around the house daydreaming and concocting scenarios as I went. As prancing is a less socially acceptable activity for a twenty year old, art has become even more of a space for my imagination to run. 

During this piece I considered themes of imagination and the supposed loss of it as one ages. I instead think imagination is directed to less visible destinations as we grow, but it remains all the same.

This piece was done in honor of the "unserious", imaginative nature of my childhood art. 

The piece reveals a narrative with characters and worlds sprung from imaginary lands. The dynamism and busyness of the composition attempts to embody the quick "mind-to-paper" nature of childhood artwork. A style free from the pressures of reality and respectability. 

This painting depicts a creature of Indo-Caribbean folklore. A Churile, the ghost of a woman who suffered a childbirth related death. She haunts the land in a revenge fueled rage, stalking pregnant women, and men who abandon their families. 

This piece is inspired by my identity as a Trinidadian American. In many countries-but especially those as ethnically diverse and resilient in the face of adversity as Trinidad- storytelling is the backbone of preserving cultural identity. At a young age, my grandmother introduced me to Trinidadian folklore and fables. None captivated me more than the morbid and complex Churile. 

In this piece, I use unconventional borders to create the illusion of bringing the Churile to life, much like she (and many characters like her) helped keep the spirit of Caribbean culture alive during times of colonial oppression.