— Eulogy
2024 - ongoing
I Mistook The Laughter For Love, 2024 - UV Print on Plywood, Acrylic Frame, 40 x 100 x 3,6 cm
Eulogy explores intergenerational and postcolonial trauma through my family’s history, using it as a lens to examine collective memory and its role in shaping identity and emotional expression. The project began with a photograph published in the Bali Post, showing my grandfather being carried from his Indonesian home in a body bag after his passing in 2020—an image both deeply personal and publicly unsettling.
Obituary no. 3, 2024 - UV Print on Ceramic, 7,5 x 15 x 1 cm
Obituary no. 6, 2024 - UV Print on Ceramic, 7,5 x 15 x 1 cm
Born to an Indonesian mother and a Dutch soldier, my grandfather was caught between two cultures marked by colonialism and displacement. He spent much of his life searching for his past but rarely spoke about what he found. That silence carried weight. I started digging into my family’s archive, pulling together old photographs, letters, and objects, and combining them with my own photographic work. From there, I expanded outward, incorporating textiles, wood, ceramics, and AI-generated imagery to explore the way history and memory are reconstructed, fragmented, and at times erased.
The Palette (The Medusa), 2025 - UV Print on Plywood, Oil Paint, 30 x 45 x 1,8 cm
The more I worked, the more I realized that this wasn’t just about my grandfather or my family—his story reflected a much larger history of displacement, colonial legacies, and intergenerational trauma. I realized history is shaped as much by what is left unsaid as by what is recorded. This work became my attempt to reconstruct those gaps, incorporating photography, textiles, wood, ceramics, and AI-generated imagery to explore how memory is preserved, fragmented, and erased.
Wallpapers (Shirts & Flowers), 2025
A key component of Eulogy is its visual layering of memory. AI-generated images, based on my family albums, exaggerate and distort stereotypical markers, symbolizing masculinity, trauma, and remembrance. By blending archival material with my own photography and AI-generated elements, I create new associations that highlight the constructed nature of memory, often anonymizing individuals through collages and cropping.
The Gathering, 2025 - UV Print on Ceramic, 7,5 x 15 x 1 cm
This theme extends into the physical materials I use. In works like I Mistook The Laughter For Love and I Felt Very, Very Cold, AI-generated memories are UV-printed onto plywood panels and arranged as diptychs or triptychs. Similarly, archival images are UV-printed onto ceramic tiles and hand-glazed in a color palette inspired by the Bali Post photograph. These layered compositions mirror how memory operates—fluid, selective, and deeply tied to emotion.
I Felt Very, Very Cold, 2024 - UV Print on Plywood, Acrylic Frame, 40 x 90 x 3,6 cm
The video component of Eulogy takes memory distortion a step further. I cut old family photos into squares and fed them into an algorithm originally designed for web design, modifying it to create rippling, ever-shifting effects. The resulting imagery never settles into a fixed form, resembling the way memories morph and fade over time—saturated colors, abstracted figures, and a familiar yet elusive history.
It Was Beautiful, 2024 - UV Print on PlywoodA Secret Feeling Of Bliss, 2024 - UV Print on Plywood
A recurring color palette, extracted from the photograph of my grandfather’s passing, unifies the works in Eulogy. This palette appears in UV-printed archival photos on plywood, partially obscured by an oil-painted beam of color. By concealing details, the work invites viewers to consider how memory reconstructs and idealizes the past while also omitting its complexities.
Cadzand. 1983, 2024 - Excerpt of Video Work Cadzand. 1983, 2024 - Installation Overview
The Palette I (Bar Dancing), 2024 - UV Print on Plywood, Oil Paint, 30 x 20 cmThe Palette, 2024 - AI-generated colour palette based on the photo of my grandfather in a bodybag.
Ultimately, Eulogy is not just about loss—it is about the act of remembering, of piecing together what was left unspoken. It reflects how history lingers in personal narratives, how longing shapes identity, and how we attempt to bridge the gaps left by silence. Through photography, materials, and digital manipulation, Eulogy does not tell a single, definitive story. Instead, it embraces memory as it truly exists—fluid, fragmented, and deeply emotional.
This project is generously supported by: