Yana Poppe grew up in the Netherlands from an early age. She was adopted from Indonesia in 1983, the year that its government imposed a ban on the intercountry adoption of children. The red line throughout her career is an exploration of her identity and the concept of belonging. In 2012 Yana received her Bachelor in Fine Arts. Her paintings are inspired by the landscapes of the countries she has visited, for the most part as an artist in residence. The main focus in her art is the daily urban environment, with in recent years a growing interest in the role of nature. Yana has studied the techniques of Nihonga painting in Japan, and ever since has been working with Japanese pigments, paper and brushes. The vibrant vivid colours in particular appeal to her. Yana’s paintings have been sold in the Netherlands, Japan, Hong Kong and America. Last year Yana was selected for an artist in residence program in China. Due to the situation surrounding COVID-19 the date is postponed to 2021. Traveling gives Yana the opportunity to deepen her art practise, and at the same time to explore what identity and belonging means to her.
Published on April 23rd, 2021. Artist responses collected in months previous.
What hurdles have you overcome this year and how have they affected your art practice?
The ongoing question whether investing in my art career is what I really want, has been particularly present this year. Reaching almost age 40 I’ve been wondering about what other wishes I still carry with me. The pandemic and recent Black Lives Matter protests have certainly contributed to this. In particular the BLM protests have got me thinking about my own experiences as an Asian living in a predominantly white society. On top of that, me being Asian is inextricably linked to my adoption, which in turn brought up many new issues. This has resulted in starting a blog where I write about being adopted and what it means to live in a country where racism is prevalent. My focus on painting had to pause for a while, since I hardly could find meaning in painting flowers. Still, throughout this, I knew that I’d pick up my brush sooner or later. Whatever happens, making art is simply a part of me, just as I see writing as an artform.
How has your art practice been affected by the pandemic?
In the beginning when everything around COVID-19 was new, I was really anxious. The isolation that came with the regulations had a surprisingly calming effect, it was as if the whole world took a break. The quiet streets helped me to be more focussed. The first two months, to lower my anxiety and stay fit, I started meditating and doing yoga. This made my mind really clear and my concentration span longer. This all had a great benefit on my art. After some thinking I started to join the Instagram initiative #artistsupportpledge. I thought it was a sympathetic project where artists support each other. This, what I believed to be “intermezzo”, gave room to explore the characteristics of watercolour some more. This pandemic somehow made me feel as if I had more freedom to start a new project. I made several watercolours of Peruvian landscapes with litter bins. A project that I had in mind since September 2019. Right now I’m working on another project. Though, since I’ve started writing on my blog, I took a little break from that.
What support systems have you put in place to help keep your practice thriving amidst these unforeseeable circumstances?
I’ve started eating healthier, and actually came to enjoy cooking. Now I love to spend time making food that is also tasteful. I’ve been going out for walks in nature on a regular basis, or going for short rides on my bicycle. This especially has been really nourishing to my mind. It’s a nice way to escape my room, and gives me so much more than a great view, amazing fragrances and some peace of mind. Online I’ve found a few inspirational women whom I enjoy listening to and learn from. Their compassion and love for humanity is something I long for in these isolating times. Furthermore I’ve found a small community of other adoptees. I’m grateful for the validation and support I find in them. Recently I’ve been thinking about other ways to generate income. I’ve started to offer online English, Dutch and Drawing classes as a tutor. Lastly, regarding my “renewed” interest in adoption, I’ve started seeing a therapist. I think this pandemic accelerated confrontation with my way of living.
What methods do you employ to stay resilient in your art practice? What tips would you recommend to other artists who find staying resilient difficult?
Even though at this moment I’m finding my expression in writing, I’ve never stopped thinking about what meaning art has for me. This pandemic, the BLM movement and my adoption all have a big impact on me, but I don’t know all the answers yet. I’m not sure whether I can use the canvas as a way to explore these, especially since I’d rather focus on my body and mind to process strong emotions. For me to stay resilient means to not be afraid to face difficult things. Art has never been a way for me to escape from myself, rather a tool to communicate something. Also I’ve promised myself several years ago to make paintings from a place of compassion and joy. Tips I have for other artists who find staying resilient difficult, is to explore why you have these difficulties. Don’t avoid or escape them. If possible, use your art to find out, or simply, take a break from it. There’s no linear movement when it comes to practicing art.
What have you learned about yourself as an artist this year?
I’ve learned to listen better to myself. A bad experience in China in 2019 was the turning point, and my urge to write about it was very strong. ‘What’s an artist without the freedom of speech and expression?’ was my main concern. When COVID-19 broke out, I followed a writer’s course which has brought me to start writing about my life as an adoptee. I’ve also learned how precious painting is, despite not being able to express my feelings into it as writing does. The freedom I felt in the beginning of the pandemic to change a project, has taught me that I’m the only one in charge of my art practise. Being an artist means to be alive and cope with many different situations, and to still find meaning in expressing myself through art. Even though I feel some anxiety to start painting again, I’m also excited. Art is a part of me.
What hurdles have you overcome this year and how have they affected your art practice?
The ongoing question whether investing in my art career is what I really want, has been particularly present this year. Reaching almost age 40 I’ve been wondering about what other wishes I still carry with me. The pandemic and recent Black Lives Matter protests have certainly contributed to this. In particular the BLM protests have got me thinking about my own experiences as an Asian living in a predominantly white society. On top of that, me being Asian is inextricably linked to my adoption, which in turn brought up many new issues. This has resulted in starting a blog where I write about being adopted and what it means to live in a country where racism is prevalent. My focus on painting had to pause for a while, since I hardly could find meaning in painting flowers. Still, throughout this, I knew that I’d pick up my brush sooner or later. Whatever happens, making art is simply a part of me, just as I see writing as an artform.
How has your art practice been affected by the pandemic?
In the beginning when everything around COVID-19 was new, I was really anxious. The isolation that came with the regulations had a surprisingly calming effect, it was as if the whole world took a break. The quiet streets helped me to be more focussed. The first two months, to lower my anxiety and stay fit, I started meditating and doing yoga. This made my mind really clear and my concentration span longer. This all had a great benefit on my art. After some thinking I started to join the Instagram initiative #artistsupportpledge. I thought it was a sympathetic project where artists support each other. This, what I believed to be “intermezzo”, gave room to explore the characteristics of watercolour some more. This pandemic somehow made me feel as if I had more freedom to start a new project. I made several watercolours of Peruvian landscapes with litter bins. A project that I had in mind since September 2019. Right now I’m working on another project. Though, since I’ve started writing on my blog, I took a little break from that.
What support systems have you put in place to help keep your practice thriving amidst these unforeseeable circumstances?
I’ve started eating healthier, and actually came to enjoy cooking. Now I love to spend time making food that is also tasteful. I’ve been going out for walks in nature on a regular basis, or going for short rides on my bicycle. This especially has been really nourishing to my mind. It’s a nice way to escape my room, and gives me so much more than a great view, amazing fragrances and some peace of mind. Online I’ve found a few inspirational women whom I enjoy listening to and learn from. Their compassion and love for humanity is something I long for in these isolating times. Furthermore I’ve found a small community of other adoptees. I’m grateful for the validation and support I find in them. Recently I’ve been thinking about other ways to generate income. I’ve started to offer online English, Dutch and Drawing classes as a tutor. Lastly, regarding my “renewed” interest in adoption, I’ve started seeing a therapist. I think this pandemic accelerated confrontation with my way of living.
What methods do you employ to stay resilient in your art practice? What tips would you recommend to other artists who find staying resilient difficult?
Even though at this moment I’m finding my expression in writing, I’ve never stopped thinking about what meaning art has for me. This pandemic, the BLM movement and my adoption all have a big impact on me, but I don’t know all the answers yet. I’m not sure whether I can use the canvas as a way to explore these, especially since I’d rather focus on my body and mind to process strong emotions. For me to stay resilient means to not be afraid to face difficult things. Art has never been a way for me to escape from myself, rather a tool to communicate something. Also I’ve promised myself several years ago to make paintings from a place of compassion and joy. Tips I have for other artists who find staying resilient difficult, is to explore why you have these difficulties. Don’t avoid or escape them. If possible, use your art to find out, or simply, take a break from it. There’s no linear movement when it comes to practicing art.
What have you learned about yourself as an artist this year?
I’ve learned to listen better to myself. A bad experience in China in 2019 was the turning point, and my urge to write about it was very strong. ‘What’s an artist without the freedom of speech and expression?’ was my main concern. When COVID-19 broke out, I followed a writer’s course which has brought me to start writing about my life as an adoptee. I’ve also learned how precious painting is, despite not being able to express my feelings into it as writing does. The freedom I felt in the beginning of the pandemic to change a project, has taught me that I’m the only one in charge of my art practise. Being an artist means to be alive and cope with many different situations, and to still find meaning in expressing myself through art. Even though I feel some anxiety to start painting again, I’m also excited. Art is a part of me.
Find Yana Poppe on Instagram