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16 de mai. de 2025

Arie van Geest ALICE (HIGH, LOW AND IN BETWEEN) by Franke Koksma

Arie van Geest
ALICE (HIGH, LOW AND IN BETWEEN)
(Catalogue from the exhibition in 2011–2012)

Arie van Geest
Text: Wouter Welling
The Broken Promised Land
Van Spijk/Rekafa Publishers bv, Venlo, 2016.
ISBN 978 90 6216920 7


 

The Dutch painter, Arie van Geest (1948) met ‘his Alice’ early on in his life, when as a four year old boy he taught himself to read. Also in 1952, Donald Duck was published in The Netherlands, the famous weekly “happy magazine” for children. Soon, reading Disney was followed by reading Cervantes, Andersen, Grimm and of course Lewis Carroll: a terra incognita behind the mirror! Over a decade since 1968, Alice dominates his work and she comes to represent his alter ego more and more: it tries to put our so-called reality into perspective in a clear and classic design of surrealistic sceneries. After an absence in the eighties, Alice returns in the mid-nineties, but in the ‘Neverland of the art of painting’ she is now accompanied by for instance Pinocchio, representing the ‘lie’, and Peter Pan, the eternal boy without a shadow. The series Desolation Row arises in 1999 ... Bob Dylan becomes another source of inspiration. It takes stock of imaginary beings from the domain of mild insanity ... “we’re all mad here”.


Between 2009 and 2011 Van Geest works on a series of twelve paintings called ALICE (HIGH, LOW AND IN BETWEEN), a ‘quest’ through the history of art closely intertwined with Tenniel’s illustrations. The summer of 2011 marks the start of a new period leading up to another series of paintings: The Broken Promised Land. On these canvases Van Geest transforms the garden of his summer house in France into a land of wonder, that is both bright and dark like Carroll's is. His heroes and demons figure in this imaginary circus of the mind, and though they are surrounded by proliferating plants in bright sunlight one cannot deny a certain danger lurks somewhere in between the shrubs and trees. Moreover, “Everything is interconnected” (one of Van Geest’s one-liners), so we may still hear echoes from the past. The child is the father of the man.


Arie van Geest, Manifesto, 2010.

 

Arie van Geest, Rise and Fall, 2009.

 

Arie van Geest, All along the watchtower, 2009.

 

Arie van Geest, The girl with the mirror, 2009.

 

Arie van Geest, The orphans of the sea, 2010

 

Arie van Geest, Visions of Johanna, 2010

 

In ten of the twelve paintings (125 x 170 cm, oil on canvas) there is an illustration by Tenniel in the centre, in silent homage to the first illustrator of Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass. Each painting is a closed domain in itself ... though it is in search of a connection with and a transformation into the next. You might say it is a kaleidoscopic merry-go-round, a message made up of fragments of reality in which the language of dreams is essential.

Most of the paintings are accompanied by fragments of letters Van Geest wrote to some of his
friends. Letters in which he writes how Alice confronted him with a private-tsunami of enigmatic
impressions that were to claim the direction of his activities for nearly two years. The series becomes an expedition through a continually changing and expanding ‘Wonderland-labyrinth’ in which Alice is desperately searching for the emergency exit. There are several references to illustrious colleagues in the history of art: Pieter Breughel de Oude, Henri Rousseau, Johannes Vermeer, Giovanni Battista Piranesi, Magritte etc. Alice is not the only motivation for his work: “Life itself, with its melancholy versus its emotion as the two most important players, was the real starting-point for my artificial crusade against logic.”


The catalogue comprises 24 pages only, but browse it every day and you will discover something new each time and wonder about all that was inspired by Carroll’s Wonderland!

 


 

THE BROKEN PROMISED LAND

 
The title of this book is also the title of yet another painting (2011, oil on canvas, 125x170) from the series Alice (high, low and in between). There are four image-elements in a large room: a window in the wall looks out on the Tower of Babel by Pieter Breughel de Oude. In the centre there are fragments of Tenniel’s Alice in a shattered mirror: her reflection is also broken. To the left and right of Alice there are paintings by René Margritte: Le Miroir Vivant (1928) and L’art de la conversation (1950). It is impossible to describe all the associations when considering these four elements, but this painting gives a beginning.


Of course my first association was a ‘religious’ one: the promised land ... the Israeli people leaving Egypt to march to their ‘promised land’. Later on in your childhood days, that land may have evolved into ‘paradise’ or ‘heaven’ and now it may be Dreamland, Neverland, Nowhereland or Wonderland for you. However, Van Geest derived this title from a lyric by Ry Cooder about migrants leaving their homeland: When you reach the broken promised land ...

 
There are more than 30 paintings in this book, the first dating from 2011 and the last one from 2016, all oil on canvas and most of them are much larger than one square metre. Nearly all of them depict Van Geest’s garden in France, his beautiful garden ... but is it a ‘Garden of Eden’ or a lost paradise, a garden of evil or a locus amoenus, or is it a Toovertuin, an enchanted garden? Is it a secret garden, a hortus conclusus ... is it guarded and, if so ... who are the guards? I don’t know. You have to find out for yourself. Your perception might be strongly influenced by your mood. To me it is a fairly friendly jungle and I think it is disappointing that there are so many Disney characters in this ‘miracle garden’. Even Alice is the blonde ‘WD-Alice’ dressed in blue ... Nevertheless, her confrontation with the Dodo in “Rendez-vous” is full of eloquence and reveals they are discussing Darwin. The paintings I like best show real people: Van Geest and his wife Berneja in the “Pool of Tears” or his granddaughter Moana in “Songbird”. Moana reminds me of beautiful Alice Liddell.


In “Songbird” there is Moana, “lying on a wooden ‘altar’, surrounded by watery blue and lit by rays of light radiating through an abundant green, [she] is a reference to Ophelia” by John Everett Millais.Van Geest’s painting, though, celebrates life. Lewis Carroll met several famous artists, Millais was oneof them ... he photographed the painter, his wife and two of his daughters. Not just coincidence? It might be interesting to find out if there are more similar ‘interconnections’.

 

 

 “Songbird” (Moana), 2015, oil on canvas, 110/140 cm, collection artist.

 

This book also provides new associations every time it is opened: the holy grail and a ferryman, a building resembling an Auschwitz shed, Martin Luther King and Jimi Hendrix , etc. ... wandering in a wonderbook.


In both books much is said about Van Geest and his paintings: the way they were created and a lot about what they show. For me that is very helpful; I would not recognize many elements. The more you know, the more you see! There is also a lot about what the paintings are trying to tell us. I think that the ‘message’ often is hard or even impossible to understand ... language can never explain allthat art tries to tell. That’s why art exists ... painting, music, dance ... maybe poetry can, by nót mentioning. The author Wouter Welling writes on page 20: “This meaning must not be defined (...) A painting remains an illusory surface (...) it compensates actual reality, which may be experienced as harsh and meaningless.”


Another interconnection: I just read a poem by one of my favourite poets: Herman de Coninck (1944– 1997). Yes, it is about “Alice” and not ... ànd it is in France!

Poetry.
Not Alice in wonderland,
but Alice arrived just now: is this again
a new wonderland? No, this is just
reality, after a long absence.
If only politics were like this
arriving in reality as in an
old fermette, and say: this is a
supporting wall, it must remain,
this wall and that must go, there
we’ll create large rooms.

Arie van Geest is a great painter and I was surprised that as a Carrollian I had never heard of him
before! When I met him in January at the meeting of the “Nederlandse Lewis Carroll Genootschap” he showed both books and I asked him if he would let me write a small review for the Lewis Carroll Society. All Carrollians can now get acquainted with his imposing work!


See: www.arievangeest.com
Thanks to Ron Stans for his correction of the text.


Franke Koksma
(Retired senior lecturer in Dutch language and (youth) literature.)


 

 Arie van Geest, Rendez vous, 2015.
 


                                                      Arie van Geest, Junlgeland, 2015.

 

Arie van Geest, Pool of Tears, 2013.

                                                            Arie van Geest, The Sleeping Giant, 2011.
 

12 de mai. de 2025

✨ ALICE MADNESS ✨

 First incarnation: Alice in Madderland

An experimental art and music project by Kent Kelly, where Alice steps beyond the page into a retro-futuristic dreamscape shaped by original poetry, artificial intelligence, and Victorian echoes.

Through the blurred lens of Julia Margaret Cameron’s staged portraits, 19th-century mannerisms, and the cryptic diaries of Charles Dodgson, visions emerge that dissolve the boundaries of time and identity.

Modern tools like Digen, Hailuo, Kling, Midjourney, and Suno give poetic form to image and sound — a digital theatre where Alice splinters and reassembles in impossible mirrors.

Watch below the first journey into this hybrid hallucination: Alice in Madderland.

 


6 de mai. de 2025

Alice por Cecilia Propato

Alice tem saturação de objeto. 

Uma repetição agrupada de padrões. 

Novidades sobre o Seminário sobre Alice em breve. 

Cecilia Propato é especialista em "Alice no País das Maravilhas", 

Gênero Fantástico e literatura e cultura do século IXX 

 


 

1 de mai. de 2025

Alice mets Jorge Luís Borges

 

 

by Alex Sarmento (@sarmento3172)

22 de abr. de 2025

Alice poster by Cathy Hill and Steve Sachs from 1968

Cathy Hill and Steve Sachs
 

In the 1960s, Alice in Wonderland was reinterpreted through the lens of psychedelic culture, largely due to the influence of the song "White Rabbit" by Jefferson Airplane. The song, released in 1967, explicitly connected Alice with drug use, referencing elements from the book like the White Rabbit and Alice's journey. This connection made Alice a mascot of the 60s counterculture, associating her with the psychedelic experience, particularly LSD.

Psychedelic posters of Alice from this era often featured vibrant colors, surreal patterns, and imagery that mirrored the idea of a "mind trip," aligning with the distorted realities in the story. Elements like the caterpillar smoking a hookah, the mushrooms that change Alice’s size, and the "Eat Me" cake became symbols of the effects of hallucinogens.

While there's no evidence that Lewis Carroll intended these references, the psychedelic interpretation became a significant cultural reading of the story. Alice’s journey through Wonderland was seen as analogous to a drug trip, making the character an enduring icon of the 1960s and 70s counterculture, with its focus on breaking conventions and exploring altered states of consciousness.

 

Thanks to Alan Tannenbaum, who sent me the pictures.

 


3 de abr. de 2025

Marks & Spencer’s Commercial: A Postmodern Dive into Literary Classics


In 2013, Marks & Spencer released a Christmas commercial that turned advertising into an intertextual spectacle worthy of study. The video, starring Rosie Huntington-Whiteley, blends Alice in Wonderland, The Wizard of Oz, Hansel and Gretel, and even echoes of One Thousand and One Nights, creating a visual and narrative mosaic that resonates with the aesthetics and principles of postmodernity.

In the commercial, the protagonist falls into a manhole and finds herself transported to a universe reminiscent of Alice’s adventures. The Mad Hatter’s tea party (featuring David Gandy in the role) recalls the linguistic and playful chaos of Lewis Carroll, while the encounter with the Witch of Oz (played by Helena Bonham-Carter) recreates Dorothy’s journey. The presence of a candy house suggests Hansel and Gretel, and the dreamlike atmosphere of the commercial echoes the tradition of One Thousand and One Nights, where stories unfold within stories.

This fusion of narratives is not just an aesthetic device but a clear example of intertextuality, a concept that Julia Kristeva developed from Bakhtin: texts never exist in isolation but are always in dialogue with others. The M&S commercial operates as a hypertext, remixing literary and visual icons to generate an effect that is both nostalgic and contemporary.

In an interview conducted by Nick Coates with Professor Kiera Vaclavik, a specialist in children's literature and visual culture, published in Alice & The Eggmen, we see how Alice has become a symbol of constant reinvention. According to Vaclavik, the absence of a rigid moral arc and the flexibility of the story have allowed Alice in Wonderland to be reinterpreted over the decades, from the psychedelia of the 1960s to high fashion and contemporary pop culture.

The M&S commercial exemplifies this trend. It does not merely retell well-known stories but overlaps and reinvents them, reflecting the postmodern spirit that dissolves boundaries between high and low culture, fiction and advertising, dream and reality.

If Carroll and Baum created worlds where logic unravels and imagination takes the reins, contemporary advertising uses these same foundations to build narratives that not only sell a product but sell a universe of references, emotions, and shared memories.

 

Know more: Interview with Kiera Vaclavik published in Alice & The Eggmen by Nick Coates on April 3, 2025.

27 de mar. de 2025

To Jump Like Alice: A Forgotten Boutique of Swinging London

 


 

Hidden in the winding lanes of Covent Garden, To Jump Like Alice was more than a fashion boutique—it was a portal. Opened in the late 1960s by Sarah Buadpiece and Debbie Torrens, the shop took its curious name from a 1950 poem by Philip Larkin: "to jump, like Alice, with floating skirt into my head." And that’s exactly what it offered—a place where fashion, fantasy, and altered states of consciousness merged in true Wonderland style. 

While boutiques like Granny Takes a Trip and Biba drew the limelight, To Jump Like Alice catered to the more enigmatic edge of the psychedelic scene. It was part of the vibrant "scenius" that Nick Coates describes in his Alice & the Eggman Series—where Lewis Carroll’s Alice became a muse for London’s countercultural revolution. The boutique reflected that shift: Alice not as a child's dream, but as a heroine of mind-expansion, rebellion, and reinvention. 

The shop’s visual identity was steeped in Carrollian symbolism. A rare advert from the International Times (1968) features the Mad Hatter—a wink, perhaps, to the tailoring trade, but also an invitation to step into altered realities "made cloth." A business card held in the V&A archives preserves this psychedelic Wonderland in miniature: part fashion, part myth, part riddle. Though little else survives in print, To Jump Like Alice remains one of those glittering fragments of the late ‘60s—one that, like the White Rabbit himself, invites us to follow a trail through mirrors, memories, and London fog. 

Source:  Nick Coates, Alice & the Eggman Series

 


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