Amsterdam, May 3, 2003

Yesterday—May 2—marked exactly 10 years to the day since Judith Samen’s works were exhibited in Amsterdam. The exhibition featured three photographs from the series with which she had previously won the German Youth Art Prize.

Six years later, she had a major solo exhibition at the Melkweg Gallery as part of an exchange program between Amsterdam and North Rhine-Westphalia. It garnered widespread attention from the public and the press, and that was when Rob saw her work for the first time—and was immediately captivated.

Judith’s boundless imagination is evident in her work, in which she repeatedly combines vulnerability and humor. She explores transience and the conscious experience of time. Her visual language is poetic and focuses on small things and the simplicity of everyday life.  What is striking is that, from the very beginning of her career, she has consistently placed people in an extraordinary relationship with food—or rather, with edible items such as vegetables—especially potatoes— meat, and bread, whereby the everyday is magnified to the point of absurdity—without the context being clear, which confuses the viewer.

Judith's work is sometimes bizarre and cheeky, grotesque, and usually rendered in bright, bold colors. And yet there are also many quiet and warm photographs that are reminiscent of 17th-century Dutch master paintings.

But she never succumbs to beauty photography or the display of the ideal naked body, luxury, or glamour. Her work reveals an interplay between objective detachment and lyrical expression that has a disconcerting effect on the viewer. It seems unintentional—and yet every detail—be it the shape, the color, the posture, or a prop—is precisely calculated and thought through down to the smallest detail.

Before Judith sets up a scene and places herself—or her children, friends, or family—within it, she has carefully thought through, conceived, and staged the image in advance, drawing and even painting it. Nothing is left to the whims of the moment—her images appear as if they were frozen moments in time.

She often positions herself or her models behind a table, which thus becomes a natural frame for the image and creates distance between the viewer and the image.

I’m grateful to Judith for not giving her photos titles. That gives me the chance to make associations and come up with my own story and title. Her photos invite me to do so, and I’m grateful to take advantage of this opportunity. Sometimes there are color descriptions—we then talk about the red, blue, or white photo—or they’re names from fairy tales or the Bible: J U D I T H !! Or they’re professions, such as the seamstress, the baker, the singer, the wet nurse, and so on. And that, too, is no coincidence!

As part of her studies, which included art history, she focused primarily on 17th-century Flemish and Dutch painting. Light, color, and poses characteristic of this genre are therefore often recognizable in her photos. Her fans often refer to her work as her "Vermeer" or her "Rembrandt," and so on.

She studied at the renowned Düsseldorf Academy of Art, where she was also named a "master student." Her exhibitions and installations are constantly on view somewhere in Germany or Belgium at museums or art institutions, and her works are held in major public and private collections. She has won numerous awards and scholarships.

In addition to her love of Dutch painting, she is also unconditionally in love with this country, the Dutch people, Amsterdam, and the Dutch language. She understands Dutch perfectly and speaks it quite well—and has ever since I've known her.

She was 20 when I first met her. I watched her grow into a woman, then a mother, and then a mother again. I knew her during times when there was no such thing as "time"—only hard work and hardship.

But I have never seen any sign of stagnation in her artistic development and vision, or in her drive and enthusiasm to create.

Her work is incomparable—and irreplaceable. That is why her work does not fit into any particular movement or genre of photography—but rather into painting. She cannot be compared to any other photographer—neither before, during, nor after her. Her work is unique and, above all, authentic. She detests the idea of pleasing others. She doesn’t sell illusions.

Their associations are infinite, and their representation is perfect

She has to do it—she has no choice.