Arthur Meijer Dutch, b. 1951

Arthur Meijer (Haarlem, 1951)

Wandering through empty streets in quiet southern villages or city neighbourhoods, the blue sky shimmers under the heat, and few people remain outside.
From the houses drift scents and fragments of conversations in unfamiliar languages, the clatter of dishes, the murmur of radios or TVs. Outside, there is stillness-but not loneliness.

Who does not recall that blissful summer feeling? Who does not treasure such memories? Traveling to distant lands often becomes a journey through time itself. One gazes in wonder at the old houses, with their curious extensions or seemingly improbable, but often harmonious juxtapositions of style.

These buildings, shaped by local conditions, available materials, and tradition, have acquired their forms over the centuries.

Gates and alleys, patios, grand staircases and narrow steps, loggias, verandas, and balustrades.

Occasionally, bridges span the air above. Harsh sunlight strikes the façades, bouncing off walls in a playful dance of light and shadow.
Stone, clay, and wood, elegantly weathered by time, sourced locally, blending seamlessly into their surroundings.

It is a joy to watch life unfold in these streets. Someone returns home through a narrow lane, a scooter or donkey in tow,
or perhaps a small herd of goats follows along, pausing briefly to exchange greetings with neighbours on a balcony.

Women work in the shade, preparing meals, chatting animatedly, a glimpse into lives once lived, rich in detail and rhythm.

I have always been fascinated by (ancient) architecture. Traveling to Mediterranean lands, steeped in a palpable history, feels like coming home.
I can vividly imagine life there in the past, or, when I journeyed through Morocco, Yemen, or Mali, life as it once was in our own distant history.

The slow pace, the abundant handcraft, the time taken for a casual conversation, perhaps a nostalgic longing for a romanticized past?

The stately proportions of my houses echo human scale. The relationships between the buildings reflect human relationships and character.
I work in ceramics because the texture, colour, and surface of fired clay (unglazed) perfectly complement the summery atmosphere and sense of wonder I seek to evoke.

My works invite the viewer to pause, to daydream, and to lose themselves in the magic of these timeless streets.