As a child I wanted to be a painter. As a consequence I began to study slavic languages and literature, theology and history and my life ended in misery: I became a teacher of history.
During a lecture in art history I found myself looking at a photograph of the French photographer Henri Cartier-Bresson. It seems to be a picture of a moment of no particular importance: a man on a bike, but every detail, every line contributes to the image as a whole. While everything ‘points’ and ‘moves’, there is a complete organization, a definiteness that would be an unattainable past the following moment.
I became interested in photography and learned to admire the works of Jacques Henri Lartigue, Édouard Boubat, Robert Doisneau, Vivian Maier and Saul Leiter.
I started to take pictures in my hometown Amsterdam.
It is not my purpose to break the mould, to explore the technical possibilities of digital photography (making a good photograph seems to me a matter of concentration, not of intimidation) or to share my daily life with others, but to search for ‘the specific instant, almost too good to be true, which can only vanish in the following one’ (Willy Ronis), the ‘moment in and out of time’: ‘the timeless moment’ (T.S. Eliot).