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In Ilse Brul’s Studio

Ilse Brul (Enschede, 1972) creates abstracted artworks full of colour, movement, energy, transparency and light. They are based on experiences from walks in nature, on the Wadden Sea and in the Alps. Her solo exhibition at Kunstpunt presents works from different periods. Although she experiments with techniques, there is a clear connection between the works.

She herself is in the middle of a move, but in her spacious studio on Struisvogelstraat in the Oosterpark district, the works make a considered impression with their transparent light and soft colours. There is a cabinet filled with jars of pigments and various stones she brought back from walks in the Alps. “Each stone has its own energy and gives a particular feeling when you touch it. The colours and lines contain the entire mountain range, nature as a whole.”

What education did you follow?

“I began my teacher training in Drawing in Nijmegen and graduated from the academy in Arnhem with a first-degree teaching qualification. After that, I studied Comparative Arts at Radboud University in Nijmegen. In 1998, I conducted research at the Groninger Museum. Around that time, I was inspired by an exhibition of paintings—so-called ‘benzine rags’—by Groninger Ploeg painter Job Hansen. The way he depicted landscapes with airy, delicate brushstrokes embodied a freedom of painting. I could almost feel how he made them. At that time, I was also strongly drawn to the work of Jorn, Kirkeby, Kandinsky, Klee, Joan Mitchell and later Hilma af Klint. After that, my artistic perspective broadened significantly.”

Where does the inspiration for your paintings come from?

“My work is not premeditated. It arises in the moment, with memories of certain places and sensory experiences from walking. I become completely immersed in nature; time slows down. I often look down—at stones, mosses, low vegetation—on the islands, in the dunes, salt marshes, and in the mountains.

I became very familiar with the Wadden landscape when I lived with my family in Kloosterburen for nine years. Salt marshes and mountains are, in a way, two ends of the same all-encompassing experience of nature. One is salty, the other fresh, but for me they are comparable biotopes in terms of smell, colour and vegetation—places where something remarkable can suddenly survive. Beautiful tiny bright yellow or blue flowers, for example, high up in the mountains.

I love the Alps and go there every summer. Sometimes we stay overnight in mountain huts, and when there is a full moon, I want to be outside to see the mountain peaks at night and look at the stars. The immensity and energy of nature then becomes a source of inspiration for my paintings. The rock formations themselves radiate energy. Translating that into form and colour is a beautiful challenge. My work has therefore become increasingly abstract.

In the mountains, matter is more solid than in a salt marsh landscape, and you can see that reflected in my paintings. When you’re hiking, you can’t stop to sketch. I do take photos. On rest days, I make small watercolours that function as study material, although some can stand on their own.”

How do these nature experiences return in the works you create in your studio?

“Through memories, sketches and photographs. I use all my senses: I see, smell, feel, hear, experience—the ripple of water or the sound of the surf becomes visual. The loose elements in my paintings emerge during the process. They refer to and associate with colours, sounds and scents, in my own way.

I usually don’t paint a horizon. In the mountains there is no horizon—you can look up and down, each time with a different perspective. In my paintings, a line would detract from the organic forms. I want complete freedom. That’s also why I don’t use titles, or only refer to the name of the place where the work originated.”

“I PAINT WATERCOLOURS WITH WATER FROM A STREAM OR, IN THE SALT MARSH, WITH SALT WATER.”

How does your use of materials influence your work?

“I make watercolours using water from streams or salt water from the marsh, but also with silt. Sometimes I place a watercolour in the rain or let snow and ice crystals melt onto the panel. In this way, I try to get literally to the core of nature.

The Japanese researcher Emoto claimed that when people gather around a lake and speak positively, the most beautiful crystalline structures appear in ice, while negative speech causes them to break apart. I am curious whether people can also feel this essence in my paintings.

Everything is energy, and I see that as my material. I have a preference for conveying lighter energy. 

Around 2010, a friend from the artists’ society De Groninger Kroon introduced me to egg tempera. She had translated a recipe by Max Doerner and recommended it, saying it might offer what I was looking for. She was right. Egg tempera dries beautifully, and I see every gesture of my brushstroke reflected in it. It follows my hand more precisely than oil paint—the tempo of my strokes and the pressure of the brush.

I make the egg tempera myself using egg and pigments, and I also give workshops in my studio for small groups. I would love to share my knowledge in teaching at art academies as well.”

Do you experiment with materials?

“Yes, I constantly experiment with materials. I see many possibilities and test and investigate them. Eventually, something emerges that aligns with the image I have in mind, or something new appears that surprises me.”

The solo exhibition Lichtvloed by Ilse Brul runs from April 16 to May 23, 2026, at the Art Rental of Kunstpunt. All works are available for loan and/or purchase.

After her exhibition, part of the graduation exhibition of Academie Minerva will be shown at Kunstpunt in July. From the end of August, the Purple Carrot Collective will present new work.

This article was published in KUNST. magazine #4.