‘Mister Van Velde!’ I say, ‘How good to hear from you! How are you doing?’ Once in 2006, I made a photo of him and his boat for the annual Year report of the Amsterdam Slotervaart district.
‘Not so good,’ he says and he pauses, ‘my wife passed away.’ As I see Schiphol Airport in my left window, I can hear the lump in his throat. Then he says: ‘I have made a new boat.'
He continues about how he would like to show his artwork to the district office, he hopes they will exhibit it in the town hall. However, transportation of the boat without damaging is tough. So he needs photos of the boat. ‘Would you like to photograph it?’
A week later I show up at his crowded flat in Slotervaart, in exchange for a coffee. Armed with two flash heads and my camera.
The boat is a jewel in the middle of the room and a visualisation of the distraction Wolter so badly needs in this difficult time. For months he has painstakingly stuck together tiny particles he received by mail each week, the accompanying videotape showing him the exact position for each particle. The result speaks for itself.
We try to put up his old slide projector screen as a background and I do my best to photograph the boat without reflection. It's not easy to suddenly be a still life photographer.
