Jeroen Kooijmans is a Dutch artist whose films and video installations are characterized by a poetic visual language. The fundamental nature of his work is optimistic, yet the cracks are not ignored. The documentary Love-22-Love is an ode to love, art, and darkness. It shows Kooijmans as vulnerable as he can possibly be. He films himself as he descends into a psychosis, and he goes further than he ever dared before, in a deeply personal way that is a declaration of love for life itself.
Why is the documentary called Love-22-Love?
There are many reasons for this title. Twenty years ago, I was searching to buy a camper van, and I found a car with the plate LV-22-LV. And I thought of a road movie, but then I was going through my diaries, and I saw this story that I was actually thinking of. It is also a type of mirroring, and the balance it has. I was also thinking about the term Catch-22. I was in doubt all the time whether I should tell this story or not.
Was it difficult to show such an intimate part of your life?
I was working with a team, especially in the last three years, with a team and they were suggesting all kinds of footage. I am the main character, but also the director. Slowly, I got used to the vulnerability. And I could see myself from a distance, which made it so much easier.
What did the raw material look like?
I had 3000 hours, so I watched these materials for four years, without really knowing what it was going to be. My goal was to make a movie, but since I never made one, I had to learn a lot about it. In the beginning, I wanted to make a movie about love, not about darkness. Because I was in a very dark moment in my life, and I wanted to see the light and the love. But later, I thought, if there is no darkness, there is also no light. The story is that I had to accept myself as I am and basically write a love letter to myself.
Do you still write letters to yourself?
The letters I wrote to myself were mostly written in a desperate moment. It was like practice to push myself up. In New York, where I was living alone for two and a half years, and I did not have any friends or family, it was a very practical thing to do; it helped me. I had my first psychosis there, and I did not know I was suffering from it. It comes in waves, and it is very fluctuating. This practice of writing letters really helped me in the beginning, but at one point, I could not reach this optimistic person anymore. Now, if I don’t feel the need, I don’t write letters to myself.
Did music also help you through the entire process?
I loved Leonard Cohen’s music forever. Somehow, when I found out about him, I got obsessed with his music and his story. For me, he was a big inspiration. I sometimes think that in my own world, he could be a good friend. When I went to see the documentary Hallelujah: Leonard Cohen, A Journey, A Song in a big cinema, I thought Leonard Cohen was for everybody, not only for me. And I thought, what a silly thing, to be a fan of this guy. I dreamed about meeting him in Hydra or in India on the hills. And I wanted to have at least two of his songs in the film. I once did a public artwork in South Korea, which is called Dance me to the end of love. And I used that song in South Korean in the movie, because I had the rights to the song.
At one point in the documentary, you say I feel at home in chaos. How do you perceive chaos?
As a child, I was already escaping reality because I felt that I did not belong, and I could create my own reality to feel better. And I discovered that I could travel to different worlds and cultures, which already existed, and I did not have to invent myself. I still love it when I come somewhere, and it is different. I am curious to learn about it; it can make me happy. It is like a certain escape from my daily life. If you go to a very different world, for me, the chaos is inspiring.
Where do you feel like you are at home now?
At one point, I felt really at home in New York; I had everything there, an apartment and a bank account. But if suddenly, it goes against you, you feel like you do not belong anymore. Sometimes I feel like I am not at home even in my own country.
Sunday, 14 June, 13:15 / Military Club