Last spring, at the studio of Helene Penninga, when watering her plants in her absence, I spotted a card. On it a painting of a white caravan. Further studying this card, I saw it was a painting by Elsa Hartjesveld. In 2001 she had an exhibition at Galerie Lutz in Delft. This painting was used for the invitation. When I read what the actual size of the painting was, I thought it would be very suitable for VITRINE. It seemed great to show this painting during the summer. So I contacted her. Unfortunately for me, but good for her, this painting had been sold and she had no other caravan paintings left. 
I can’t always be lucky. 
When I started thinking about this summer’s edition of VITRINE, I decided to take a postcard, I had found at a flea market in France, as a starting point. The black and white card is not dated, but the cars and caravans indicate it’s from the fifties. As often happens, when you pick a theme to work on, you come across it everywhere. While visiting my friend Lieske van de Seijp, I was facing a black and white photo of her parents in front of a caravan. I had never noticed it before. It was printed on A3 format and I could not keep my eyes off it. The son of Lieske, photographer Oof Verschuren had taken this tiny photo from a family album, scanned and printed it. Not just that, with the help of Photoshop he had ensured that only her parents were left in the picture. I scanned the original and enlarged it. There are three people in my picture. Lieske also lent me a small photo album of a caravan/camping trip she had been on when she was 15. She, along with her parents and two brothers travelled to the Côte d'Azur. The album is a written and visual account of this tour of late fifties camping sites. Lieske still creates an album for every holiday she undertakes. I once told her she should have them published; they would make fantastic travel guidebooks. 

As a child I lived in Australia for three years. We went on a holiday with a caravan twice. I loved these trips and I decided to borrow some photographs coming from my father’s photo album collection. Those albums not only contain photos but also leaflets, postcards and other souvenirs. Initially I was slightly disappointed. I just found one black and white picture of myself in front of the caravan. I also found two clippings, taken from a caravan brochure. I was very happy when I found Spotto, a holiday game to take on the road. I have always thought we only bought gas from the company that employed my father as a geologist. But memory is unreliable. This Spotto game was used to promote BP. It was like Bingo for car passengers. If you were the first to spot and tick off all the items on the card, you were the winner: ranging from 'a lady driver’ to a license plate ending with the number one. We were very keen, but I think it was probably no easy task, considering the wide-open space of Australia. I would often be seated in the front, next to my mother since I was prone to car sickness. This will undoubtedly have given me an advantage playing the game. During this pre-safety belt era we sometimes would pass by the consequences of a serious accident. My brothers and I were ordered to duck and to put our heads near the floor of the car, and so to avoid seeing scary things. 
Searching for more visual material, I decided to look at slides taken during those vacations. As usual my father, being an excellent archivist, excavated them quickly. The slide that I have digitized and printed, was taken on a sunny Sunday. From analysing the picture, I could figure out that it was taken around eleven o'clock, and we had gone to church. We are at our Sunday best and I am wearing a headscarf. I did not want to be in the church without covering my head. While in Australia my brother and I attended a Catholic school run by nuns and at that time the both of us were very religious. We were shocked when, being on vacation, my mom had put meat on the table because she forgot it was Friday. 
In addition I borrowed some other items for the VITRINE: two caravans and a car from the "slush-car"and Dinky Toy collection of Pim Piët. The “caravan announcement” for the exhibition of Elsa Hartjesveld, I again borrowed from Hélène. 
While walking, you discover things you might miss when biking. A few weeks ago, on one of my studio’s street corners,  I spotted a hostel. I had never noticed it before. Through the window I saw a bright green caravan. I couldn’t believe my eyes, it is a very strange sight. I found out it can be rented for the night. I went inside and asked if I could have a look and take a picture, but unfortunately it was occupied. 
They call it “Urban camping”.