A Personal Rediscovery: TEFAF

Life feels like it’s passing by in a blur— where has time gone? With exam season luring me into a constant schedule of studying, university work had me in a chokehold. It was a practical one week, a project the next and a proposal to write the day after— it had me occupied. So occupied that my unread messages had been piling into one big, giant list. Friends whom I had the time to meet so much last year, suddenly were the very people I only see weeks after. On top of that, the hobbies I’ve had suddenly needed to wait, as if they weren’t there to give myself a break from a heavy week in the first place. “24/7” felt pressed into mere hours I could count by hand, no moment to stop and think… life was a hustle.

Something I was looking forward to suddenly felt like a chore on top of all my other responsibilities: attending this year’s TEFAF, the annual, prestigious fine arts fair in Maastricht. What I didn’t know, however, was that being in the crowd, surrounded by collections of artworks, in the enormous MECC hall, was exactly the break I needed from life. Stepping onto the floors of TEFAF was like a portal into a little world you didn’t know existed, a reward you didn’t know you could crave. Yet to me, it felt like so much more. In all the chaos of my life, it was exactly what I needed— a small path to personal rediscovery.

The first-timer experience was intimidating at first, as it often is. The enormity of the hall was like a maze to be lost in, rows upon rows of galleries showcasing their best artworks. You just had to choose, “Do I go left, right or straight?” But what was at first daunting was suddenly my compass. I let my feet lead me to wherever they wanted me to go, and it brought me to the art pieces that grounded me, allowing myself to bask in the beauty of what was right in front of me. On the other hand, the people who came formally dressed, exuding elegance and niche knowledge, made me, for a second, feel like I might just be out of place. My art history knowledge is rusty at best, and my artistic talents… well, we can leave that for next time. YetI realised rather quickly that there was no place for doubt here; art, in its essence, is about expression and curiosity. So a curious mind was what I adopted. 

Who knew that three hours could do so much for a person, so many little opportunities to gain a deeper appreciation for who a person is at their core. As I let my feet pave their way, I found myself enthralled by art pieces that represented little pieces of who I am. Adrien Jean Le Mayeur de Merprès’ “Ni Pollok wearing a red head scarf and golden subeng” brought me back home to Indonesia— the charm of our different cultures and traditions, a reminder of what my Indonesian heritage has to offer. William-Adolphe Bouguereau’s “La Petite Fille Aux Fleurs" and C.T.M (Kees) Van Dongen’s “Elegant Lady”, a representation of a woman’s grace and elegance. The power and strength we hold, at every phase in life, even if we cannot always see it. Cyril Power’s “Divertissement” was a nudge at the dancer in me, the one that doesn’t always show up, even when it will always be there for me when I need the space to express. These little moments of realisations are sometimes what we need, as a reminder that we are made up of more than what’s on the surface.

Works of Adrien Jean Le Mayeur de Merprès, William-Adolphe Bouguereau, and Cyril Power

Along the journey of personal growth, we find that sometimes we lose parts of ourselves that once made up a huge part of our world. For me, that included my sometimes-lost love for photography, or that slowly-growing interest I had in fashion design. Parts of my past that I no longer acknowledge, nor appreciate enough as I’ve grown to become older. Walking around, letting my eyes catch glimpses of a little bit of everything, I look back at my photo gallery and realise that I’ve subconsciously been attracted by artworks representing these themes. Rubens Santoro’s “Rio San Barnaba, Venice” and Edouard Léon Cortes’ “Boulevard de la Madeleine” reignited my photographic creativity, pumping my body with the buried love I have for landscape photography. Or better yet, Franz Gertsch’s “Tabea” reminded me of the people I used to photograph— that feeling I used to have when I could capture a story through the camera’s lens. Pierre Balmain’s fashion illustrations for Bergdorf Goodman, New York, at the end of my walk through the MECC, were the icing on the cake, a temporary portal to my 16-year old self, designing dresses in her spare time- the true definition of reminiscence. 

Works of Edouard Léon Cortes and Franz Gertsch

Whether I was (subconsciously) craving it or not, TEFAF was something I didn’t know I had needed after the demanding period I had. As we grow older, we sometimes look back at parts of our childhood, missing the way we felt- maybe the creativity we had, the innocent look into life we didn’t know we adopted, or perhaps the bravery of taking risks we no longer would take now as adults. Sometimes it’s necessary to let loose, to let yourself simply feel, in a space you would have thought wouldn't allow it. Amongst the crowd of well-dressed strangers, of curious minds and courageous artists, sometimes you find that you get to know yourself best when you immerse yourself in someone else’s world. 

Work of Pierre Balmain