SVBO-school

The assignment was a perfect one: create a work of art for a complex school consisting of very different departments, which functions as a recognition signal for the outside world and has a signposting function internally. Peter Schoutsen was assigned the task of giving shape to this; it was his first major assignment. A challenge, especially because the work had to be completed in a relatively short time - within one year. In the summer of 1990, I received a message from Peter Schoutsen that the time had come: it was finished. I'm curious enough to take a look. One fine day I travel to Den Bosch, accompanied by the artist. The first signs can be seen from afar. Rows of wall plates in alternating deep black and soft gold colors against the gray stone facades. The color contrast is simply beautiful. The velvety black is so deep that it absorbs virtually all the light, while the yellow emits a soft golden glow. The dimensions of the plates correspond to the dimensions of the windows in the building. A harmonious whole has been created, so that the shapes cut out in the slabs appear to emerge very naturally from the facades - as if the building produces its own signs. As we get closer, I see that the plates are made of industrial material: anodized aluminum diamond plates. This material is used, among other things, for truck loading floors; So it is actually 'everyday', but the fact that it has been used here as a decorative decoration is truly a discovery.

Inside the school, the trail of signs appears to continue. We cross the central living area where there is a neon work, and wander through the corridors past the various departments. We keep coming across a yellow-black enamel sign, sometimes expected, sometimes in an unexpected place. Sometimes the signs on the signs appear as pictograms that seem to indicate a department or, for example, an emergency exit, while other times they simply hang in a beautiful place, like paintings that refer to nothing other than themselves. Peter says that he has consciously been looking for this, that the confusion of function and lack of function interests him: "It is nice when a sign in combination with its environment works in such a way that you no longer know what it announces: a department or (for example ) a fire reel. You don't know exactly, but you suspect that the sign means something. It has a content, but what? That stimulates curiosity. You look for meaning."

We end up in the large patio. There are three statues, one made of granite, one made of wood and a metal sculpture. A cushion, a gymnastics apparatus and a Bat-car, I think, or a cushion, a block plane and a dip pen; the degree of abstraction increases per image – and with it the freedom of interpretation. Just like the indoor and outdoor signs, these shapes are inspired by tools, materials and professions that Peter encountered in the school, he says: "I entered the school as a layman; with my own luggage. I looked around a lot and based on what I saw I started working. The school is a reflection of society; All kinds of professions are represented and things that you deal with every day are used, such as a geyser. However, there is not just one copy at the school, but an entire battery. This makes you look at it differently. In my work I play with that: on the one hand there is recognisability, on the other hand there is alienation. Ordinary things are often so close that you no longer wonder about them. I make use of the proximity of things, of the ordinary, and in that I create distance again, to evoke amazement." The three statues in the large patio show something of the steps. The pillow is literally an enlarged pillow, if it were not made of granite (and therefore very heavy and rock hard, although it doesn't look like it); The wooden statue is still strongly reminiscent of a device without it being precisely identifiable, but the metal statue is truly 'unreal', a kind of Unidentified Flying Object that has briefly landed on a hill in the patio: here the imagination starts speaking. . Yet the image does not seem illogical; the shape is a logical consequence of what happens to metal when you bend a flat, openwork plate. As a form, the metal sculpture comes closer to the signs on the indoor and outdoor signs: it is a kind of three-dimensional icon without an unambiguous meaning. Peter compares this with the mysterious signs that you can encounter in unexpected places along the waterfront: cable signs. "Those signs are in places where you wouldn't expect signs. They are signs for a specific use and intended for a specific group of people to which you do not belong. That's mysterious, without being anything mystical – after all, you can inquire about the meaning of those signs. There is a paradox that fascinates me: the signs are public and at the same time only meaningful to a limited group of people. Because you encounter them so often, you automatically feel like you understand them without actually knowing. That's how art can work: as something very ordinary. But at the same time you cannot say exactly what it is, what it means. I want to create images that look like they will serve you well. You have to be able to think, "That's a useful image! I must have that"; while it has no practical use. It is only visually useful.

We end our tour at the curious igloo in the small patio. There is a 'useful function' here: Peter designed it specifically for storing paint. The exterior consists of a patchwork of plates made of different materials and decorated with various techniques (including marble and wooden). It is a result of collaboration with students: everyone was able to contribute based on their education. "The nice thing about it," says Peter, "is that the silo goes against the uniform character of the school. This is where diversity speaks. You can think of the pictures as all different personal statements. A sample card." If there are sufficient financial resources, two more silos are in the pipeline. To be made of brick; an exercise in masonry for the students. But even if they cannot be realized, the created works of art remain signs of collaboration. The artist conceived them and executed them alone/together with companies, friends, the school; now they exist – but they only function in the 'use' by the viewer.

Marja Bosma 1990