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Living and working in De Biotoop

By: Franciska de Beer, 25 May 2017

It is described as a creative hotbed, an artists' commune, and a cradle for innovative art. But what exactly is De Biotoop in Haren? During De Biotoop’s open house on a sunny Sunday afternoon, we, along with some 1,800 others, took a look inside the old university building full of creative minds. 

In picturesque Haren stands an old, somewhat dilapidated, concrete building surrounded by trees and bushes. The building was once home to the University of Groningen's biological centre, and lectures and experiments were conducted there. Today, more than 300 people live and work in the seven wings that comprise the complex, roughly 30,000 (!) square metres of space in total. Three wings house the workshops, ateliers and studios where artists, designers, musicians, architects, furniture designers and other creatives can practice their disciplines and crafts in peace. 

FROM BIOLOGIST TO BIOTOPE

Despite the arrival of these artists and craftspeople, traces of the university past are still visible everywhere in the building's endless corridors: old lecture halls, labels on shelves indicating that physics instruments once lay there and a pungent scent reminiscent of the manual labour classroom. You feel that in this place, scientific research was conducted with blood, sweat and tears, where people tried to find the answers to life’s complicated questions. Now it is a place where De Biotoop residents have replaced biologists in putting these issues under the microscope. For example, there are creators who turn their gaze inwards, questioning their own medium or, conversely, looking at how creations can take shape in the world outside the walls of De Biotoop. We visited three artists, each with their own area of research. 

KROESE’S SUBCONSCIOUS CREATION PROCESS

At the end of a long narrow corridor, smelling something like sweet soaps, you'll find a tidy, homey studio. On the walls are paintings and collages, in front of the window are two large plants and in the centre of the room is a wooden table on a Persian rug. The paintings are lined up on a shelving unit, neatly bubble wrapped. Despite all the order and neatness, the traces of visual artist Gabrielle Kroese's (1963) artistry are still clearly visible. The floor is spattered with paint, and an old, worn painter's coat hangs in the room, also with a colourful spotted print. 

Kroese begins her creative process by searching for images that reflect her personal preferences: ‘I cut out pictures from magazines and newspapers that appeal to me and paste them into a scrapbook’. She then flips through the book and looks at what she wants to use for her paintings and collages. ‘This process is actually very subconscious; I just go by feeling’. Subconsciously storing certain images and choosing appealing ones is an important aspect of Kroese's work: "We live in this world of images, but everyone remembers different images. By casting my own perspective onto the images, I show my own reality’. With acrylic on canvas, installations and paper collages, Kroese gives us insight into her search for images that endure and give meaning: ‘Images create our reality, which I find very interesting’. Remarkably, the common denominator in this compilation of representations almost entirely revolves around man and nature, which Kroese often combines with brightly coloured areas of Perspex or acrylic. Kroese's work on the walls of the studio have become a surreal and cohesive whole due to the intimate setting. 

VERSCHOOR'S VICTORIAN PHOTOS

Slightly less intimate, but no less personal, is the chaotic workspace of photographer Arjan Verschoor (1967). What must have once been a physics classroom — judging by the gas taps, shower and labels on the shelves — is now home to a large white table, shelves full of old cameras, tall black screens and a separate workspace. 

The pièce de résistance is a giant wooden camera from 1900, which Verschoor uses to take portrait photos: ‘An old woman called us and said she had a camera in the attic. If I helped clean out the attic, I could just have it’. Nearby is a wall full of Victorian-looking black-and-white photographs, all taken with the old-fashioned camera. It is hard to believe that the people portrayed are probably still just all walking around Groningen.    

Yet in this space, as before, chemicals and light are played with (carefully). In fact, a fully equipped darkroom can be found in Verschoor's studio. The photographer likes to show that the camera as an instrument deserves patience and attention, so he enjoys giving workshops to young people. In a world full of selfies and folders filled with digital photos, sitting still for two seconds in front of a wooden box is suddenly quite the experience. By taking ‘old-school selfies’ and developing them together in the darkroom, Verschoor hopes to teach young people the history and craft of the medium of photography. 

CUSTOM DESIGN BY ROOD

The contrast between Verschoor's chaotic physics classroom and the tidy studio of Melvin Rood (1980) could hardly be any greater. In an old engineering classroom overlooking a weed-covered courtyard, Rood creates sleek, minimalist designer furniture made of wood and steel. Rood’s work is purely based on ‘form follows function’, and he puts his clients' needs first: ‘I don't like big, large-scale projects. I like to keep it small-scale and local. The materials are also as sustainable as possible.’ The furniture maker handles the design as well as the execution. 

Throughout the creation process, Rood discusses the design with his clients, making the process rather social. ‘Sometimes I work on a project for up to 12 weeks, then I visit the clients' homes and they come to the workshop. Then you do make a personal connection with people.’ The personal atmosphere is enhanced by the fact that Rood and his family also live on De Biotoop property. ‘It really is a village here: there are even babies being born and the other day someone died.’ His wife, standing next to him, nods in agreement: ‘Yes, we really have to remember to “cross over the fence” as they call it here,’ he said.

VILLAGE-WITHIN-A-VILLAGE

After visiting De Biotoop, one thing is already clear: the former biological centre is still a place to question prevailing ideas and examine ingrained perspectives. Only this no longer involves physical standards or mathematical laws, instead employing a variety of creative materials, specialities and experiences. Together, the diverse approaches of creatives and the peaceful tranquility that emanates from this village-within-a-village are an ideal combination, both for residents, locals and visitors.