Daniella Hefter and the inner tapestry.
Interrupted tales, the echo of things just happened and silent memories with all the little shades of colour and mood swings that pertain to it. This is what Daniella Hefter paints. Interiors in the double sense of the word, which is to say; the interior of a house representing the human ‘interior’. We see vaulted rooms, large halls and sometimes a balcony, spacious and at the same time always closed in upon themselves so the tiniest of whisperings and the fluctuations in the light do not escape us.
A heart rich in emotions needs space but at the same time it craves the opposite; the subtle little cross stitches of sentiment that together form a pattern like a complicated embroidery on brocade or another piece of exotic textile. They form the fine threads that together make up the tissue of a human life. They turn up in Hefter’s canvases with the rhythm of a slowly ticking clock, just like the objects, the hats, overcoats, gowns and umbrella’s we thoughtlessly hang up or discard in a hurry. All of them micro-stories and little islands in the network of our existence. It is what the artist accentuates by strengthening the images with needle and thread and with textile applications.
What draws the attention is the background of these paintings, often executed in a spotty grey-blue symbolizing the thought, pondering and musing, of the one who tries to follow all stories within the frame of the painting. It pervades the thin but sure sketchy lines that give form and shape to the whole. In this way the spectator is always keeping his balance between coloured surface and drawing, between emotion and thought.
And then suddenly there is a bright coloured chair or couch a dark dress with pale flowers and open throat, that focus the attention and recall a heated conversation or keep the lingering memory of a past summer. Daniella Hefter drenches the things from her immediate surroundings with emotions and thoughts to such an extent that they no longer remain just objects but develop into something halfway between thing and personality. This causes us to recognize them, because in essence men don’t differ that much. Thus the personal life of the artist mirrors that of all spectators and vice versa.
In these canvases time goes slowly and sometimes stops for a moment. In that instant the little stories speak one after the other. A glance, a word in passing, a seemingly careless gesture, everything regains its independent meaning and colour, its full taste and scent, and everything becomes possible again. These canvases are what the poet Hans Lodeizen calls inner ‘tapestries’, that leave space to the play of our imagination. Making true what he writes in the poetic cycle of the same name;’ try it’, lift the roof and all stars will become unhinged.
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