Sjoerd Bakker pictures the mysteries of nature

By Parvathi Nayar Narayan

JAKARTA (JP): The limited number of aquatint prints on view here show an artist whose primary concern is nature.

Sjoerd Bakker, the artist, uses landscape to express the mysticism and magic of the natural world that surrounds us. There is a strong thread of grimly reflective, even pessimistic thought in his work, which is on display at the Erasmus Huis until Nov. 22.

Certainly, the artist's views on man's interaction with nature are gloomy ones.

Bakker's medium of expression, aquatint (or sugar aquatint as it is sometimes called), is a very demanding print technique. It more or less seeks to imitate the effects of layered wash drawings, by the process of etching a microscopic crackle on a copper plate. This coated copper plate has to be heated to just the right degree. Then it is masked with asphalt and etched in an acid bath, layer by layer, to get a wide range of depths and textures. The resultant stippling effect is very effective and atmospheric. For every color there is a separate plate.

Wagiono Sunarto, Vice Rector of the Jakarta Art Institute, who opened the show, is himself knowledgeable in the field of graphic art. Speaking to The Jakarta Post he remarked on Bakker's evident mastery of the technique of aquatint. There is considerable skill involved in the creation of the clear, sharp aquatint prints. It is interesting, too, that Bakker's pictures seem to draw inspiration from the linear techniques of etching, Japanese woodblock prints as well as the pointillist look of aquatint.

Sjoerd Bakker was born in Jakarta in 1943 and completed his education at the Reitveld Academy in Amsterdam. In 1989 he lived for a few months in Japan. Though currently a resident in the Netherlands, he has traveled widely in Asia. In fact he has even published a book of travel stories, A Hand Full of Water (1992).

In his earlier visual works the human figure was completely absent, but it has made an appearance in the prints currently on show. The presence of man is in the form of tiny featureless figures, or even more interestingly in the form of props - a walking stick, a footprint, a blown-off hat. These accouterments would suggest a traveler rather than a tourist. Other props are more ominous: a serrated knife, a gun. Even in the former case, however, it rarely appears to be the traveler in harmony or in complete sync with Nature. He is, at best, a seeker or wanderer.

The props and fragments of images create a surreal, dreamlike quality, nowhere more obvious than in The Other Side. In the extreme foreground is our traveler, though all that is seen of him are his hat, a flash of orange shoulders, and a long dappled stick. He is looking out at a remote and mysterious island. It is right in the center of a high horizon line. The craggy isle is reflected in the waters yet somehow curiously suspended in time and place. The image is as from a dream; we sense the longing to escape, to explore, to go over to the other side and discover what mysteries lie there.

The same sort of sentiments appear in a more dynamic form in The Traveling Monk. Against a backdrop of towering snow-clad mountains is silhouetted the traveler. The sense of longing is crystallized here into a more purposeful act. The traveler is not stationary but is definitely moving forward. Also silhouetted is a small pagoda-like edifice in front of the traveler. This could be one of his many smaller goals or stops. It does not seem likely, though, that this is his ultimate destination.

Hazy watercolor-like layers of indigo and charcoal are the most dominant building blocks from which Bakker constructs his pictures. In both Sato Island (Japan) and Time, for instance, this stippled blue-gray haze forms the setting for a single mysterious object. In the former the object is luminous and shell-like, whereas in the latter it is a craggy piece of rock. The faintest tinge of a yellow-orange sunrise touches the sky behind the rock, which has a timeless quality to it.

Time is effective because of this sparing touch of color. In other compositions where Bakker is more liberal in his use of color there is a certain static quality. More is less. With the different colors in abundance the composition loses its delicate balance; color ceases to play the role it does in a painting such as Time -- to accentuate, to emphasize.

The same is true for those of Bakker's images that are too graphic and explicit. The illustration-like quality of the object set against the watercolor-like background seems contrived rather than contrapunctual. It is with the hazy, defined yet indistinct image that Bakker speaks more powerfully and eloquently.

Autumn is an exception. Though the objects are drawn in a clear and distinct fashion, the imagery itself is subtle and suggestive. The intriguingly titled Autumn is a play on the other word for autumn, "fall". The print shows a landscape in blues and greens, hardly autumn colors. But somewhere outside the picture plane lies a wounded or dead bird, fallen from the skies. We see only a section of the hunter's bloodstained arrow. Feathers, some bloody, flutter in a pathetic simulation of autumn leaves.

The message is a powerful one. It brings to mind man's wanton cruelty, and suggests that man's exploitation of nature creates an imbalance that might herald an early frost. Indeed this is an idea that many of his images provoke. Nature with its beauty, power and mystery is a force that gives enjoyment and also inspires meditative and exploratory thought. At the same time it is also a fragile force; its continuation is by no means assured in the face of the encroachment of man.