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The
Brabant Bohemian
by
Zed De Rome
His
Early Years
Confronting
the Unknown
An
Inventive Mind
Gaining
Recognition
A
New Beginning in New Zealand
Being
Different
New
Zealand
Life
The
Big Mountain
A
Band of Followers
His
Departure
The
impossible was nothing. Amongst the aroma of tobacco, coffee and deathly
deep thoughts, tireless work in a dedicated life took Martin
(Martinus Wouterous) Roestenburg on an
unwavering journey of creations, across a remarkable number of mediums.
Challenges were friends in this life and artworks spoke and speak
in a language with no geographical limits.
Perhaps
best known for a huge lump of plaster and wood on a hill above
Paraparaumu, New Zealand, the revealing complexities of his work are only
now being explored further and appreciated, some 40 years after his death.
His
Early Years
Born
in Eindhoven, The Netherlands in 1909 Martin Roestenburg was from a
working class family who lived simply, on, and off, the land. The
rural landscapes that surrounded him daily as a child would become an
inspiration and solace throughout his life. Little did he know then that
these landscapes would grow from the flat hills of his native Brabant to
the rolling hills of a small but vibrant rural community in a country half
way around the world?
His
artistic talents were apparent in his early years and through
encouragement he sought lessons from Jan Kruysen, a Master Painter.
Kruysen started his teachings by informing Martin that he could not show
him how to paint, because painting is a matter of seeing and feeling, but
he could teach him how to mix colours and to apply the paint to the
canvas. This type of thought provoking challenge was one on which
Martin was to thrive and in turn would use, in his own engaging style, to
provide inspiration to his eager students in later years.
Confronting
the Unknown
At
the age of 22 he showed the first signs of confronting the unknown by
building a house from scratch, on land next to his parents’ home, for
himself and his wife Maria. Perhaps it was from this, he realised
that there needed to be no barriers to creation. Whenever this point
in time was there certainly was no end to his adaptability and acceptance
of a creative challenge. Later he would also build furniture,
scaffolding, tools and anything that wasn’t available, or to his
demanding needs. Through the following years he would attempt and
master a range of artistic skills, including painting, sculpting,
leadlighting, photography, mosaic application, and mural construction.
While many people struggled to attain ability in one artistic field over a
lifetime, he found he had a gift of expression through a myriad of
mediums.
An
Inventive Mind
He
was also an inventor of a somewhat wacky and unusual bicycle where the
pedal mechanism worked in a piston like up and down motion as opposed to
in circles and his family was encouraged to assist him away from prying
eyes under the cover of darkness, testing the cycle along the local canal
ways at night. Reaching speeds of 40 kilometres per hour it was an
invention with some promise, however with the creative aspect concluded,
marketing and mass-producing such a product was a distracting exercise
when drawn to more creative endeavours. In later years he also
developed a new process to apply paint and oxides to heated metal and
experimented with the flow and effects that could not be achieved in
standard application manners.
Gaining
Recognition
As
his reputation grew he began exhibiting and was admitted to the St Lucas
Guild of Amsterdam, as a Master Painter, and after the unfortunate loss of
his wife in 1941, from which he may never have recovered, he attended the
Munich Academy of Fine Arts and furthered his already considerable
talents. He then threw himself into painting, sculpting and life.
Perhaps
because of his deep personal loss, his recent study, or the need to
provide a work of pride to his hometown, in 1945 he painted what many
regard as his best work, the Pieta, Jesus being taken from the cross.
Full of pain, vibrancy and despair it personifies the acclaimed New
Zealand artist Colin McCahon’s macabre proclamation that ‘all great
art has death as the subject’. In later years this painting was chosen
for an exhibition in Rome which gathered the planet’s most celebrated
works and today it hangs with dignity in the St. Antonius Abt Church in
Acht.
A
New Beginning in New Zealand
His
skills at a peak and with times hard in post-war Holland in 1951, with
little prospect of work for his children, he decided to carry his family,
and a new wife, Corry halfway across the world to New Zealand, in search
of a new beginning.
After
posing for a photo for the local paper, sitting on the Wellington dock,
with long hair, flowing green corduroy trousers, and a smouldering
cigarette in hand, the newspaper article and keen young reporter that
pronounced Martin’s arrival referred to him as appearing
“‘Bohemian”, a person with artistic interests who disregards
conventional standards of behaviour. This initial description was
remarkably prophetic.
Being
Different
Martin,
the bohemian, had strong ideas about being different, about art needing to
be ugly, painful and real. Cheap chocolate box accuracy was
something that he had perfected some years earlier, but chose to avoid and
dismiss. His real passion was to create something that provided
affinity and connection for the viewer. This was when he felt he
could best communicate the message and emotion in his works.
In
a very conservative era, in provincial 1950s New Zealand he radically
pioneered the creation of leadlight windows and statues showing a Maori
Mary, wise men and a baby Jesus. In view of his opinions on
creating affinity for the viewer this was a perfectly natural way for him
to present these subjects, often choosing to include local people’s
facial features in his works.
New
Zealand
Life
After
his colourful arrival in New Zealand and a brief stay near Wellington, he
settled in Taihape, surrounded by green rolling hills, and set about using
the talent he had acquired so passionately. It was a time when the
improvisation that he had in abundance was eagerly sought and with
relentless endeavour he went about creating leadlight windows, statues,
murals and anything else required by a captive audience. The volume
and speed of work he achieved in this period was astonishing and he gained
the financial rewards of his toil.
Perhaps
one of his best leadlight windows, and an outstanding example of his
desire to create a connection with the viewer appears in a captivating
chapel in the Turakina Maori Girls College, Marton. With traditional
woven Tukutuku panelling, steely eyed carvings leading to the alter and a
brightly coloured and luminated leaded window, this chapel is a true
hidden jewel of creative expression. The Waihi Village Chapel is
another captivating place of beauty where his work holds pride of place.
A leaded window of a Maori Madonna with Jesus from this chapel appears on
a New Zealand Aerogramme and in 1973 another of his leadlight windows,
from Saint Teresa Church, Auckland, adorned that year’s Christmas
stamps.
The
Big Mountain
Martin
had climbed and overcome many technical mountains in his life before he
created the Statue of Our Lady of Lourdes in Paraparaumu however this
small hill was to provide a physical challenge that may have had
devastating effects on his health, and in particular his failing heart.
After
building many windows and 2 murals for the Waikanae Church Martin’s
sense of fun was highlighted by modelling one of the Apostles at The Last
Supper on a Father J.S. Dunn’s face. In 1958 Father Dunn contacted
his artist friend and commissioned him to erect a statue to temporarily
commemorate the Centenary of the appearance of Our Lady of Lourdes.
A huge undertaking, the scale of the task was evidenced when Father Dunn
and a team of young Marist brothers on holiday in Paraparaumu at the time
decided to get the structure prepared for Martin, so that his time on site
was best utilised. They worked steadily and finally a wooden
structure was ready for the scrim to be applied. Unfortunately as
the form was out of plumb high winds brought it crashing down shortly
after completion. Father Dunn called Martin to say that they had
gone back to their true vocations and that rather than being discouraged,
he had decided the structure now needed to be a permanent fixture, and
twice the size originally requested.
Standing
at 14 metres on a 75 metre high hill exposed to bone chilling winds, and
in a country and an area particularly prone to earthquakes this was never
going to be an easy assignment. Meticulous preparation was
required to ensure success. During planning he crafted a scale model in
order to calculate the extent of the forces, material required, and to
assess the balance point for the floating foundation in the event of a
tremor.
Martin
worked steadily, with the help of a local carpenter, and his assistant,
working through a winter in winds exceeding 130km an hour. After
many weeks of work the wooden infrastructure was formed. He then
positioned the 2 metre high face he had made at his home in Taihape,
together with the hands, and started the task of forming the body, by
winding layers of scrim from top to bottom before applying the visible
exterior.
Completed
over 6 months, in August 1958, the official blessing was in October of
that year and a large crowd gathered to celebrate the feat, and their
faith.
This
monument on a hill above Paraparaumu was perhaps not his most ascetically
pleasing creation, but over time has become New Zealand’s best-known
public artwork. Clearly visible from the main State Highway,
experiencing 8 million traffic movements annually, it is expected and
accepted on journeys to the capital city. His own assessment
of the worth of a statue was “the gravity of the spiritual effect rather
than the quantity of material used”. He certainly appears to have
met his own expectation, the gravity of task may however have been
understated.
A
Band of Followers
Around
this time he also gathered his own band of loyal followers and art
students while providing art lessons in classes across the central North
Island, and for many individuals in private tuition. Students, many
of whom hung on his words with expectation were told to “learn the
rules, and forget the rules”. The lessons he gave, with his
trademark pipe and a cup of coffee never far from his side were full of
humour and encouragement. He took pleasure in generating new
thoughts through a world of riddles and reinforcement, provoking his
students to challenge and explore their minds. As time has evolved
these students have become teachers, and the cycle of growth and
aspiration continues today.
His
Departure
After
a brief return to The Netherlands Martin returned to New Zealand and
whilst employed as curator of the Palmerston North Art Gallery, died in
1966, aged just 56. He was survived by 10 children, and his wife
Corry.
With
the aromas of tobacco and coffee now gone, and the deep thoughts
transposed into the heads of others we can reflect on a life with an
undeniable sense of indulgence, fun and mystery.
An
artist’s path is often swayed by broken motivation or belief, however
this was not the path Martin Roestenburg was given or chose.
The path for him was clear and never faded or fades.
Through his brief passage in the world’s journey he had fulfilled
the meaning of one of his favourite Latin quotations,
‘Ars
longa, Vita brevis est.
Art is long, Life is short.’
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