Cindy Bakker
Meet Cindy Bakker, the artist behind the Depot spencer. Cindy went on a journey through the Depot, drawing inspiration from the iconic Boijmans collection, including works by Yayoi Kusama and Joan Miró.
Cindy was captivated by the Depot's bold approach, revealing the hidden sides of art, from raw concrete walls to the backs of paintings and the craft of preservation. The spencer reflects this duality: its exterior mirrors the building’s industrial essence, while the vibrant interior draws from the colorful works of artists like Kusama, Miró, and Kloosterboer. A wearable homage to the unseen and the celebrated.
Would you say that with the variety of art you create, you approached this collaboration any differently?
No, I don’t approach projects differently. I work very site-specific, so it always starts with a question—whether it’s a location, a client, or a space. I like to dive into the story or history behind it. There’s always something that sparks my interest and sets the direction.
Was there anything specific about Boijmans that triggered your inspiration?
The building itself is rough; it’s not just a white cube. I was struck by the rawness of the concrete—it’s super cool. When I first visited, I saw the work of Klaas Kloosterboer, this huge garment with cut-out circles. I was really drawn to the dots.
But the space itself was the real trigger. What’s fascinating is that they don’t use the walls in the traditional way. Artworks are displayed so that you first see the back of them, forcing you to walk around and experience the pieces differently. That sense of discovery really stayed with me.
As an artist, is there a particular style or approach that resonates most with you?
I’m often inspired by the methods of other artists—this unconventional way of thinking. I might create a painting, but then think, "Could this also be a sculpture?" I love exploring possibilities like that.
I see myself as more of an ideas person than a maker. I’ll always seek out specialists to help bring my vision to life. If I want to work with ceramics, for example, I’ll spend as much time as it takes to find the right collaborator. For this project, that’s exactly how I approached it—I relied on the expertise of Pinkorange to bring the piece to life.
What does this collaboration mean to you, working with both Pinkorange and Boijmans?
It’s incredibly special. You have the museum commissioning a unique piece, Pinkorange giving the art a platform, and me, the artist, at the core of it all. It’s a complex dynamic—working with three organizations can be challenging—but it feels meaningful. If you were to take out one of the three, the whole project would lose so much depth.
How do you personally connect with nature?
My inspiration mostly comes from urban life—colors, shapes, and even mundane things like trash bins or parking poles. These functional objects have a beauty people often overlook.
But I need nature to recharge. I could sit by the sea all day just staring at the waves. It clears my mind. Growing up in a small village surrounded by nature and animals, that connection is still a big part of me. Even now, I keep chickens and spend time in the garden. It’s like my reset button.
Would you say this connection with nature influences your work?
Yes, especially through memory. A lot of my work is rooted in memories of my childhood on the farm. For example, I once created an installation inspired by hay bales—something I remember vividly from working with my grandfather. What I love is how people connect their own associations to it. They see the hay and think of road trips through France or holidays in the countryside. That’s the beauty of art—it sparks different emotions and memories for everyone.
What’s the first thing that comes to mind when you think of Pinkorange?
I’d say it’s about amplifying art. Pinkorange takes art and gives it a platform, making it accessible and wearable in a way that still feels true to the artist. It’s an inspiring way of bridging the gap between art and everyday life.