lia de jonghe

Portraits (People) intrigue me. Who am I looking at? What does that say about the maker, the viewer and the person himself. I would say that it says the most about the first two. There is no fixed identity. It is all subjective.

The people in the portraits come from (old) photo’s (family or strangers), from people I meet and people I create myself by using people I see around me. In fact it doesn’t matter because the one who looks at the portrait and the one who made, they both see a portrait of a human whether they know the person or not. They are just people as we all are. You can recognize yourself in it or not. Ordinary people but also all unique

After sketching on paper to explore the portrait, I start sketching with needle and thread on a piece of fabric. I am not copying the portrait but try to approach the drawn portrait as much as possible. Each stitch must be concentrated to approximate the drawing on paper. I find that space between the drawing on paper and the drawing on fabric exciting. The stitching is so much slower than the drawing that I have the feeling that I am getting even closer to the portrayed face.
Although the person portrayed does not have to exist, it is important that I feel a connection with it. It has to be someone I could meet on the street.
I use textile because it is close to me, well known. In daily live we are surrounded by it. Textile has life in it, certainly when it has been used before (secondhand).
I draw on textiles. Compared with drawing on paper, embroidery is a slow process. I like the attention, concentration and tranquility that goes with it. When you look closely you can still see the process in the final work. Stitches that were set and taken out again, textiles stitched and taken away again and so on.

The portraits are small and intimate, that suits the people I portray. From afar you see a face, a look that may or may not appeal to you. When you get close you see the details and the nuances.

“Lia de Jonghe draws with needle and thread on fabric. With this she creates solo and double portraits with a clear signature. The portraits are small but nice: elaborate, layered, vulnerable, beautiful in color” (textielplus 2019).

“Lia de Jonghe – Headlines 

Stripping complex material down to the bone. It is the key skill of caricaturists, draughtsmen and artists – at least those artists who push abstraction to the edge of figurative recognition. Interlacing characteristics requires sensitivity and finesse.

Portraits of houses and people solely in thread lines and fabric patches. Lia de Jonghe (1962, Den Helder, The Netherlands) is one of those artists who debones the figurative. She doesn’t need a lot: some thin pieces of fabric, preferably vintage, and thread.

Pairs

In these times of selfies, in which quite a lot of people unashamedly showcase themselves to their circle of friends, it seems unimaginable that there were times when people sat and gazed awkwardly for a photo session. Take the portraits Oma and Opa that are based on family photos found in an old shoebox. The look is searching and cordial. They have volunteered to take part in the idea of a portrait, but truly exposing themselves is a step too far.

It is wonderful to be able to see this couple side by side and wonder about how these two individuals lived their lives together. A serious disposition and friendly/roguish undertone seem to connect them. De Jonghe is fascinated by pairs. She may take an existing twosome like her grandparents, or with just as much love, she may clone an individual into ‘twins’.

Identical twins they may be, but they are never exactly identical, as in Twee meisjes (Two girls). For De Jonghe it’s about the dynamics and interaction between two people, who have somehow managed to find each other in life. Picture two school girls: one very tall, the other quite short, calling each other ‘Polle’ and copying each other’s mannerisms while also inventing new ones together. Picture artistic duos like Gilbert & George or Viktor & Rolf: the outside world has no idea who’s who, but that doesn’t matter much. It’s also possible to be in each other’s heads all the time, as is the case for mother/daughter in Nooit alleen (1) (Never alone).

Coupling also happens in a material sense. De Jonghe seeks out affiliated fabrics for the faces. They don’t have to stem from the exact same time period of the person portrayed, but the total tailoring must be bespoke.

And then there’s the sewing together of wounded sublayers. Scars can be detected – sometimes ripping right through a face. That didn’t happen on purpose, but it is acceptance: when new additions stopped matching the existing work. Unpicking and sewing anew is part of the process, but ripping it in half and suturing is also an option. No one is free of scars, and for Lia de Jonghe it’s okay to see them.”

Text 

Frank van der Ploeg

Catalogue Textile Biennial Rijswijk