SPOTTED: Metropolis M on Maud de Vries – illustrating the quiet impact of care and loss
- Design
Every year, the magazine Metropolis M releases a Graduation Special, featuring work from various alumni who graduated as visual artists. Maud de Vries graduated from Illustration Design, and is one of the alumni featured in the special. Metropolis M asked Maud: "What is the story behind your work?”
When Maud de Vries started a part-time job in community care three years ago, she had no idea that those few hours a week would provide the starting point for her graduation project: ‘I was a cleaner for a community care organisation, which involved cleaning houses for people who couldn't do it themselves for various reasons. I like the idea of giving something back. I underestimated how big a deal it is to step into somebody's personal world. You drink a cup of tea and have a chat and before you know it, you know every detail about that person.’
Her illustrations are minimalist ink drawings, sometimes in colour, usually in black and white, on diverse surfaces: paper, glass, tea towels, plastic gloves. A striking feature is the absence of people. Aside from the odd hand, De Vries focuses on everyday objects. We see a hospital bed, a sandwich, a stack of coins, sometimes accompanied by a few short sentences that Maud scribbled down during her shifts as diary fragments. The very absence of people expresses humanity. Because for those whose abilities are limited, the functioning of everyday objects is vitally important. Nevertheless, De Vries claims not to have a larger, societal agenda. Above all, the illustrations are intended to make the world a more cheerful place. After graduating, she would like to work for a newspaper. De Vries points to the drawing of a hospital bed. ‘See those scratches someone has made on the wall with their nails? That person couldn't stand up unaided until the hand rail was installed.’ On a low plinth, an immense Alice in Wonderland-like crockery set is displayed. Sadly, De Vries relates: ‘This is an ode to Mrs K. who I cleaned for on Wednesdays, who died suddenly. At her funeral, I felt desperately sad that I hadn’t told her how much I enjoyed spending time in her home.’
Author: Annabel Essink, writer and art historian