She would take the train from 9 a.m. to Dordrecht station. So I could pick her up at 10.30 a.m. for a drive to “the castle”. Being able to start taking pictures around noon at a dilapidated greenhouse, with the sun in the right position. My hunch didn’t cheat on my. Yes, she showed up, but only three strange messages and three hours later than agreed. A one and a half hour drive followed with – between awkward silences – talks about her departure from London to Amsterdam, her work in a coffee shop, nude photography and my approach to photography. She was obviously restless and tired, with large bags under her eyes. Nice and friendly too, but I had no idea what kind of work I could do with her anymore.
At the little castle waiting another three quarters of an hour for a little bit of makeup and some fiddling with her hair. Hiding my rising impatience quite well. Four hours later than planned, still raised to the old, dilapidated greenhouse. Feeling a little bit uncomfortable, quietly taking pictures for twenty minutes with her behind the weathered and partially turned green windows.
Afterwards, against all odds, asking her to take place in the dark workplace of the gardener, behind a window, decorated on the inside with dust and the remains of cobwebs and on the outside framed with climbing plants. Me finding my way through weeds and bushes to the few square meters behind the workplace of the gardener. Pushed a little tree roughly aside to make room for me and then…?
No, not the special moments you sometimes achieve followed, but long, magical minutes of gorgeous light – sometimes interrupted by a cloud – falling through a roof of leaves, accentuating the remnants of spider webs and dirt on the windows, with her as a classic and fragile, lost beauty in the middle of it. With me head over heels in love trying to capture these impressions as best as possible.
For days in a row enjoying the pictures we made, from which just 6 days later – the first time I seriously presented some prints of my work – two ended up in the art collection of Generali the Netherlands, including one made during the first 20 ‘uncomfortable’ minutes at the greenhouse. Pictures that made me return many times to this wonderful place, where my love for old windows is born. What if my hunch had cheated on me that day and nicely prepared Jasmine had arrived in time?