ROBERTA BOSCO, EL PAÍS, 17-12-2012

Han Nefkens (Rotterdam, 1954) says that he has been living on borrowed time since 1987. For that reason, he wishes to share it with others and, over the five years he has lived in Barcelona, he has become one of the most prominent patrons in the city. Since the time, 25 years ago, when he was a journalist in Mexico, that he discovered that he had contracted AIDS, he has been aware that his life hangs in the balance. Indeed, all the more so since 2001, when HIV attacked his brain and left him unable to speak, write, read or walk for two years. “I am lucky enough to have always been able to count on the very best medical care, but art has helped me through some very difficult times. The crisis has made some people think of culture as a luxury, a frivolous and unnecessary extra. That is a mistake. What would become of a people without its culture? It is the very essence of the human being, it shows us who we really are and the ties that bind us,” he says.

Tomorrow, the name of the winner of the first international award for young talent, which he is organising with the Museu d’Art Contemporani de Barcelona (MACBA), will be announced. The role of this prize goes far beyond the mere award of EUR 50,000, a generous sum even in other times. “I am lucky enough to be able to write, and that is why I would rather offer somebody the opportunity to create, rather than buy something that is already complete,” said Nefkens, who has written three books, all autobiographical in nature. The first two in Dutch; the third, Tiempo prestado (Borrowed Time), was published in Spanish in 2009. His awards are all in the form of grants and provide support to the award winner, from the conception of the work until it is disseminated. In addition to this award, he organises, in the Netherlands, a prize for young fashion designers and, in Spain, an award for audio-visual creators and up-and-coming writers. “I have a network of talent scouts in a many countries who keep me up to date with creative talents. The finalists emerge from their list and the winner is chosen by a jury.”

Nor is he just an ordinary collector. He is passionate about art, and even more so about displaying it, which is why practically all of the 450 works in the H+F Collection (named after him and his Mexican husband, Felipe) hang on the walls of different museums throughout the world, including the MACBA. He manages all this through his two foundations. ArtAids, which he set up in the Netherlands in 2006 and two years later in Spain, helps him use art and culture to combat AIDS. It has already produced some 150 works on this theme. “The biggest obstacle to prevention is still the fear of being stigmatised, socially excluded and morally condemned. Art is one of the most effective ways of speaking about what we fear and showing what we do not wish to see,” he says.

However, he set up the foundation that bears his name to interact with Catalan institutions. “There is a good artistic infrastructure in Barcelona and when I arrived here everything was thriving. Things are different now, but that does not mean that new opportunities will not arise. The MACBA shows that a tradition of public-private partnership already exists in Catalonia, and all we have to do is re-energise it. That requires a sponsorship law to regulate taxation and to grant fair social recognition to sponsors,” said Nefkens, pointing out that you do not need to be a millionaire to be a sponsor. He is tireless in his efforts. In February, he is to present the Lawrence Weiner installation that he is gifting to Barcelona, a sculpture with typical German typography where you can sit and socialise. It will go to the Mercat de Santa Catarina. In October, he is to inaugurate both a photographic exhibition by Anna Scheidegger at the MACBA to celebrate the 30th anniversary of the discovery of HIV and the International AIDS Vaccine Conference, which will be held in Barcelona. And in December he will launch a new collaboration with the Virreina Centre de la Imatge, with an exhibition by Dutch artist Gerald Van der Kaap.

“I would not advocate a system where private individuals dictate what should be shown and what not in a public museum.”

BY PACO BARRAGÁN

Dutchman Han Nefkens (Rotterdam, 1954) is a passionate collector based in Barcelona whose major joy is sharing what he has with others. Instead of the traditional idea of owning works, most of his art is bought in a fruitful dialogue with museums and goes straight to them through the H+F Collection. We spoke to him about the changing nature of collecting, the relationship between private and public, and the state of the market.

Paco Barragán – In order to contextualize your personality for an American audience, lets start with the two basic questions: When and why did you start collecting?

Han Nefkens – I started collecting in the year 2000. I started collecting because I had discovered an exhibition by Swiss artist Pipilotti Rist, and I was very impressed by the way she managed to make you feel part of the artwork. And I thought, this is a world in which I want to have a role. But I never had the idea of becoming a collector just to amass things. Right from the beginning I knew that I wanted to share what I liked with other people.

P.B. – You are a writer, so creativity is in your alley in a way, and I guess arts have been always part of your interest.

H.N. – I think so, as when I was a child I was always surrounded by art—not contemporary art, per se, but all kinds of artistic objects, from statues to tapestries and paintings. And what was very important is that from a very young age, I started to go to museums with my parents. I literally liked to ‘get lost in art.’ I remember sitting in front of a painting by Kees van Dongen at the Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen in Rotterdam, and I would just stay there staring and looking at it and making up my own stories about the woman in the painting. And that feeling of being involved with the artwork, of having a dialogue with the artwork, has always stayed with me.

FROM WALL STREET TO THE MUSEUM

P.B. – Previously you invested your money in Wall Street in bonds, stocks and deposits. Was the decline of Wall Street end of the ’90s the stimulus to buy art?

H.N. – Well, it’s not exactly like that. The bare truth is that I used to invest the allowance I got every year in bonds, stocks and products like that. Until the year 2000 when I found out that I would get much more pleasure putting it into art, and so it was not as an investment at all. As a matter of fact, the works would go directly to different museums as a ‘promised gift’ when I die – they will be owned by the museums. So it meant that money that I would use for investment I now use for my art projects.

P.B. – So the H+F Collection kicked off in 2000 at Art Basel. What did you do to enter the art world as a newcomer?

H.N. – Yes, when I decided that I wanted to collect art, for one whole year I didn’t buy anything. But what I simply did was start going around looking, going to art galleries, art fairs, museums, and I talked to artists, gallery owners, museum directors, curators and so on just to get a good picture of it. And it happened that via a friend I got in touch with Sjarel Ex, at the time the director of the Centraal Museum in Utrecht. And as we got talking and I expressed to him my vision of sharing what I liked with other people, his answer was: ‘Well, if you buy something that fits in the collection of the museum, we will gladly accept it as a loan.’ So, even before I bought anything I already knew that the possibility existed that it would go to a museum. And that gave me a completely different look at what I was buying because I hadn’t had the limitations a regular collector has when hanging it in his or her house, no storage problems; I could buy series of works, big sculptures, installations… basically I could buy things that fit into a museum. Thus, right from the very beginning the perspective changed, as I would buy works with the idea of having the works exhibited in a museum.

P.B. – I guess that the fact that you learned that you were HIV positive in 1987 changed your life drastically?

H.N. – It affected my life in different ways because in 1987 you were probably going to die pretty soon as there was hardly any medication available. That led to the idea that I had to live every moment as it was the last moment of my life. But, having said this, I have to admit that I was very fortunate, as I got the medication I wanted in the time I needed it, and I survived. So, this feeling of living the moment is still part of me. One comes to realize in moments like that that life is not endless, which is a sentiment that of course a young person doesn’t cherish. This also engendered in me the need to share whatever I think, whatever I have, whatever I write…

P.B. – What would you say is characteristic of your collection? Are there some guidelines or red lines that cross the collection?

H.N. – I started of course to buy according to my intuition, but after a couple of years when the first exhibition was made I could see clearly some red lines through the collection. One characteristic is a strong poetic element in the works; another is a ‘contained strength,’ which is not always obvious, but the strength is there in the work; furthermore, we find quite a lot of works by women artists, but this is something unconsciously as somehow they have this poetic element and hidden strength I like that appears to be more prevalent among women artists. Another aspect would be that my collection is very global, very international, with works by artists from Europe, United States, South Africa, Thailand, Japan – many different countries.

P.B. – What is surprising is that from the very beginning you started a close collaboration with Sjarel Ex, the former director of Centraal Museum in Utrecht, which resulted in a long-term loan agreement.

H.N. – In that period a friend of mine contacted with different directors of museums in the Netherlands, but none of them were interested in talking to me. Only Sjarel Ex, and that’s also the reason why I have such a special relationship with Sjarel and we continue working together. Once I started, other museums became interested.

P.B. – This is now happening with other museums like the Folkwang Museum, Museum of Reykjavik, Huis Marseille. How did this come about?

H.N. – In the case of the Folkwang Museum, they actually got interested in some vintage prints I bought by Stephen Shore, and they showed interest in having these prints. Also, not everything I bought fitted in the collection of the Centraal Museum, and so I got to talk to other museums like De Pont, Huis Marseille in Amsterdam, and we started to work together.

P.B. – Another of your patronage activities is the H+F Curatorial Grant that started in 2007. Can you tell us how this idea came about?

H.N. – This was an idea that was born from a conversation I had with Hilde Teerlinck, who is the director of the FRAC Nord-Pas de Calais in France, and she is also the curator of many of my exhibitions. And we discussed the need we felt for young curators to be involved in our different projects. And we realized that what happens with young curators is as they come out of school they often work in museums, where they fetch coffee or make copies at a photocopy machine. And we decided that there was a real need to provide young curators at a very young age practical experience in making exhibitions. And on the other hand, there was a need from our side to help us with our exhibitions. And this is what I would say is a win-win situation. And this grant has been very successful so far, and now were doing the fourth edition. It’s specially focused on young curators.

A FRAMEWORK FOR THE PUBLIC AND THE PRIVATE

P.B. – Its obvious that you are not interested in art as investment and that most works will be donated to museums, but it’s a fact that in the last decennia, art has become more and more speculative like a casino, and art prices has rocketed shamelessly.

H.N. – It’s the effect of life. Of course, there is a lot of money in the world going round these days, and there are many hedge funds, and there are the emerging markets like Russia. But the fact is that there aren’t too many investing opportunities because banking rates are very low, the stock market is very uncertain, so people are looking basically for places to park their money. It’s unfortunate that they found the art world to do, as they push the prices up and, secondly, it’s unhealthy for young artists who see that the prices of their work go up all of a sudden because it is seen as a speculative investment. And an artist needs time and tranquility to develop his or her work. On the other hand, I must say that there are a lot of people who earned money that are being benefactors and doing good things in a sense that they become patrons, start museums and foundations. I think that it is very important in the art world to have a warm heart and a cool mind.

P.B. – In this sense it’s more and more complicated for museums to buy art at these prices. This would encourage private funders joining forces with museums, especially in Europe, where public funding is declining more and more – see for example the Netherlands.

H.N. – Well, that’s exactly what I’m doing of course. I had the development from a collector that lends works he buys to museums to somebody who starts producing; the last years I didn’t buy any single piece of art but produced with my foundation art works together with museums. You give the artist a chance to make a work that otherwise would be difficult to produce. And it also means that I can show my confidence in the artist by giving him or her a consignment. I think that this is a part in which many more collectors could be involved with. And I think here is an important role for both the public sector and private individuals to construct the framework through which individuals and art institutions can get together, a kind of matchmaker as it were. There is obviously a need on the part of museums and other art institutions for funding, and there is also a need for individuals to become engaged with the art world.

P.B. – This way of working is still very rare. What do you think we need, or what should the state do to foster these kinds of private initiatives?

H.N. – There should be an information bank where the needs of museums and art institutions are catalyzed and where individuals can see what’s of their interest. This is something that the public sector can set up.

P.B. – But if we see the American example, we see that too often people buy their way into museum boards and start putting pressure to have their artists exhibited. Is that not a real danger?

H.N. – This is also why existing models should not be copied but new concepts should be developed. In Europe especially it’s very important for museums to maintain their identity and their integrity. And in this case the figure of the museum director is of vital importance, as he or she needs to know exactly what he or she wants. So, this is also much easier for an individual to see if you fit or don’t fit with that philosophy. I would certainly not advocate a system where private individuals dictate what should be shown and what should not be shown. There is room enough for other initiatives. And private investors can learn from the museum, but the museum can benefit from the collector’s network too. Basically, it can generate an interesting dynamic.

P.B. – Collecting is changing slowly from being object- to ideabased, id est, not so much owning an art object but sharing an idea and making it possible. How do you expect collecting to evolve?

H.N. – I think that’s a general development in society what you’re a pointing out. People become less and less interested in owning things because there is hardly anything that is exclusive anymore; people are more interested in experiencing things. Translated to the art world, it means that there are many opportunities to experience things through exhibitions, performances and art forms that do not necessarily leave something tangible behind.

P.B. – Social Media, iPads, iPhones, new technologies. How does that affect you? Actually, I got your contact via Facebook.

H.N. – I’m definitively interested in that. I have a website for the foundation, and I’m also active on Facebook, which is a wonderful way of connecting with people and bringing works to a greater audience. For example, we have the H+F Collection on Facebook, where each week we highlight one work from the collection with extra information. And an important advantage of social media is that you have access to art in other countries where you would normally not know about it—art in Thailand, Indonesia. It’s very challenging.

Han Nefkens is an atypical, ‘socialising’ collector.
He doesn’t stockpile artworks; he lends them to museums
Out of his fight against AIDS and the aphasia that paralysed him, a totally new man was born

Jesús Ruiz Mantilla 15-04-2012

It isn’t difficult to find wandering Dutchman Han Nefkens. One sea is his constant point of departure and return: the Mediterranean. He found his way there, to Nice, when he was 19 and in search of light and streets filled with people. And for years he has berthed at another of its ports, Barcelona, where he is thoroughly and peacefully enjoying his third lifetime…

The thing is that Han Nefkens (Rotterdam, 1954) is, above all, a survivor. A survivor who circumstances have led to become a generous art collector, a literary patron, a promoter of fashion projects, a writer – he never abandoned his vocation as a journalist – and a traveller. A survivor who has been fighting the AIDS virus since 1987 and who fought aphasia and encephalitis, which almost ended his life ten years ago and led him to be forcibly reborn.
‘Reborn’ is an appropriate word in his case. The virus attacked his brain and left him completely paralysed. For three months he didn’t know how to eat, he couldn’t walk or talk, he didn’t recognise anybody or even himself. Nefkens wrote about it in his autobiography Tiempo prestado (borrowed time), published by Ediciones Alfabia, in which he recounts this borderline experience that turned him into a different person, alien to himself.

Collecting art and undertaking artistic projects turned out to be his salvation after many personal hardships. It has given meaning to almost everything. But he doesn’t collect art in order to stockpile works; he does it in order to share. “Art fascinated me, so I asked a friend who is the director of an art museum what I could do to contribute in an original way. I wanted to set up effective ties between creators and the public,” says Nefkens at the Joan Miró Foundation in Barcelona, where he has donated a work by Pipilotti Rist. “‘If you entrust it to us, I will accept it on deposit,’ he told me.” That was the start of Nefkens’ ‘socialising’ arts patronage.

“Collecting is a myth, like planting a tree in your garden and believing that it is yours. It will always belong to the natural order of life, just as an artistic creation belongs to the society that it addresses.”

His first purchase was also a work by Pipilotti Rist, entitled 54. It was the start of a coherent line of work that has led him delve into a series of ongoing obsessions: “One thing that they all have in common is a contained power. But I also seek poetics, light, a portrayal of absence or death, because ultimately I think that all works of art are a revolt against death,” says Nefkens Focusing on these and other traits, Nefkens – who was the recipient of the Best International Collector award at this year’s ARCO – has brought together work by Rist and also Sam Taylor-Wood, Bill Viola, Shirin Neshat, Jeff Wall, Féliz González Torres…
He always wanted to leave the Netherlands. “Just as many people don’t feel at home in their own body, I never felt at home in my country,” he maintains. “I wanted to live in a place with palm trees, sunlight and packed streets. I was after a more open atmosphere, more colour.” This desire to run away led him to the south of France first, like Van Gogh, and then to the United States and Mexico, where he found the love of his life, Felipe. And then, to Barcelona.
Mexico buffeted and caressed him in equal parts with its revelry, its tragedies and its gaudy colours. There he lived life to the full. And there, one awful day, without being quite sure of what he was being told, he was diagnosed with AIDS: “It was November 19th, 1987, at seven in the afternoon…. They gave me the paper and I opened it in the middle of the street. It said ‘positive’; I was so confused I wasn’t even sure whether that was a good or a bad thing.”
There are some shocks that you never forget. Specially back then, when the news implied death: “I was very lucky that medication kept me alive until 1996, and then drugs appeared that turned it into a chronic illness, into part of you.”
It was a time of fear, ignorance and lack of understanding. A time of complete uncertainty and of hoping for the miracle. “Many people who contracted the virus with me didn’t live to tell the tale. I was forced to get used to living with very uncomfortable questions: Will I die? Will I get fired? It obviously became a lot easier when I felt I the support from my work colleagues and family, even though to them the word AIDS was tantamount to death. I was working as a correspondent in Mexico at the time.”
Strong feelings do not fade in your memory. They take root and settle in a corner of your brain and your skin, fiercely anchored to the memories of trauma: “It was like going to the cinema and watching a trailer for a film that hasn’t been released yet, even though you are actually living that film already.”
Over time, Nefkens overcame those obstacles. But even so, others came. A complication and a brain infection finished off one Han. And once again, fortune and the right medication in a hospital in the Netherlands, where they admitted him when he became aware the symptoms, allowed another Han to be born. “I don’t remember much about the first one; if I made an effort I would be able to remember what he was like, but he doesn’t interest me.”
He prefers to remain with the present one. Much more philosophical, more thoughtful and serene. “Much more conscious of the fragility of human beings, but also – for precisely the same reason – of their strength.” The new Han prefers to cancel commitments in favour of taking his dog for a long walk. The new Han knows that he shouldn’t put off for later anything that he can do now.
Perhaps all of this comes from being forced to redouble his efforts. “It is annoying to have to learn to talk, eat and walk again, but it has its good side.” Such as? “The feeling of doing certain familiar things for the first time. The feeling of being a virgin…”
Perhaps this isn’t a nuance that everybody who has been through the experience picks up on. But it entails an enormous power in itself. To be a virgin when it comes to tasting a Sachertort, a virgin when enjoying a plate of lettuce simply drizzled with oil, vinegar and salt. “Who gets the chance to experience something for the first time a second time?” he asks in Borrowed Time. A virgin when making love. “It was easier than learning to walk again, maybe because I was lying down and there was no reason to fear falling,” says Nefkens. Enviable and paradoxical, aware of having found a pleasurable way to move forward along the sinuous and sometimes unsure task of reconstructing oneself.
He overcame many imbalances. “I was extreme in everything. I had to deal with imbalance and total lack of control. I did whatever I felt like; if I wanted to eat three pieces of cake, I did, and if I wanted to buy six shirts, I bought them. It was hard to learn rationality, normality.” Having lived through these crushing sensations now often makes him feel invincible. If he compares his relationship to both illnesses, he finds that AIDS took over him in an abstract sense, and the setbacks of encephalitis were much more concrete. This has made him brave.
“I don’t know if I feel capable of everything, but I’ll give it a go.” Creating a daring collection, setting up literary grants for young writers – like the one he recently announced with Alfabia Ediciones and Universitat Pompeu i Fabra –, continuing to write… “I can do it, I have the means, so why not throw myself into it?” He answers his own question. The family fortune inherited from an architect and building contractor father allows him to. Although he acts with full awareness that it can all end suddenly, at any moment: “Even so, I will go with the feeling that I have pursued my desires; I will never regret anything that I have done, and I didn’t put anything off for another day.”

Who: Han Nefkens
What: fashion and art patron, writer
Has purchased works by: Viktor & Rolf, Hussein Chalayan, Walter van Beirendonck
Awards a prize of: € 25,000 to a fashion designer

Han Nefkens was born 57 years ago without a right hand and on his left hand his fingers are too short. But he was never bullied because of that. ‘My mother acted like I could do everything. If I walked into the room with a cup, my father would say, “Careful you don’t drop it”. To which mother would say, “So he drops it.”’
The only thing he cannot do is tie his shoelaces. So on his feet he has a pair of polished black leather Prada shoes with Velcro straps. The soft, suede jacket he is wearing, with normal length sleeves, is by Gucci – from the Tom Ford days. ‘Back then they had an excellent fit.’
In Hotel de l’Europe he orders coffee. ‘Of course, mister Nefkens’, they reply. He has been a regular there for twelve years. At least once a month he travels from his home in Barcelona to Amsterdam. To see his friends, to eat a prawn cocktail, and for his fashion, art and AIDS projects. With the dexterity of an accomplished challenged person he brings the cup of coffee to his mouth.
Even without his handicap he would have felt differently as a child, he says. ‘I matured at an early age, I was sensitive and had an imaginative spirit. I dreamt about faraway lands, about art, I drew clothes for stylish women using my mother as model. She always looked beautiful, Chanel chic. I could not relate to people my own age, though I did feel the strong urge to belong.’
He clearly remembers the image of being seven years old, standing in his bedroom and looking out the window. At laughing classmates playing outside. ‘I wanted so much to be out there with them, but I felt paralysed. When I finally mustered the courage to move and go downstairs, they were gone.’ As a child Nefkens already loved people, only he didn’t know how to reach them. Call it loneliness, or a longing for contact. It took a long time before he felt like he lived and belonged on this planet.
He chooses his words carefully, and often composes literary sentences. It is the writer in Nefkens, who wrote three books. Bloedverwanten (Blood brothers) about his younger brother who died of AIDS at the age of 31, his collected columns Twee lege stoelen (Two empty chairs) and De gevlogen vogel (The flown bird) about his battle with encephalitis in 2001. Writing feels like a necessity. In Barcelona he writes every day. First he works out with his personal trainer, followed by breakfast and then he writes. ‘Grief is senseless, but by writing about it I make sense of it. At least, that’s how it feels.’
For someone who has known the darker sides of life, he looks quite sprightly. ‘That’s because I am doing well’, he says with an enigmatic grin. ‘I am in the prime of my life.’

HIV infection
Nefkens is a busy man. After Amsterdam he is off to the art fair in Madrid, then he goes to Thailand for the opening of an AIDS exhibition and where he will be a willing victim for the media. ‘The mere fact that they are talking about HIV and AIDS in this country is a big deal. It is important for people to know that they have to be careful and that they must get tested. I am a strong supporter of that.’
In 1987 Nefkens, who was a radio correspondent in Mexico at the time, was plagued by chronic coughing fits. ‘I thought it was caused by the air pollution, but the doctor there said that I should get tested for HIV. I thought, “what an idiot, probably only because I am gay”. But he tested positive. ”I didn’t even know what the word meant.” With the result of a second test in America, the term ‘positive’ became irrevocable. ‘Many young people were dying in those days. I was 33 and far too young to die. After a few months I learned to accept it and became a Buddy. That was my way of finding out how I could share things with people. Up until then all I did was run around for my job as a correspondent. But where to? When I became infected, I learned that I shouldn’t put anything off.’ He still subscribes to that attitude. But: ‘Now we are talking about projects in 2014 and 2015. Before I never dared to think that far ahead.’
Nefkens receives an income from the family fortune that allows him to lead a free life. ‘Through my bosom buddy Frank Ligtvoet, a former cultural attaché in New York, I learned about contemporary art. Before that I was more interested in classical art. Frank took me along to galleries in New York and Paris, and taught me how to see and understand.’
The video work of Pipilotti Rist in 1999 was the turning point. ‘She had transformed a hall into a home and in the rooms she had video projections that almost let you feel the rain on your skin or smell the flowers. I felt a restrained power in them, which reminded me of that longing I had for people when was a child. I came out of there two hours later and thought: “I want to be a part of this world.”’
Through a friend in the art world large museums were informed that he was interested in joint projects. ‘Nobody knew who I was and nobody responded, except for Sjarel Ex, who was the director of the Centraal Museum in Utrecht at the time. Apparently he was a fan of Pipilotti Rist as well. It was the first work I bought and it went straight to the Centraal Museum.’ Art and fashion came together when he saw the work of Viktor & Rolf. ‘I always loved fashion. Fashion is an exciting way of seeing how we present ourselves in this world. How you want people to see you. Are you a punk or more a pearl necklace type?’
Up until that time the art world hardly considered fashion an art form. Nefkens changed all that by buying and commissioning works by Viktor & Rolf, Hussein Chalayan and Walter van Beirendonck. ‘I want to explore that fine line between fashion and art. I am convinced that many designers have an unrealised dream in the back of their mind. I want to make it possible for them to realise their fantasies.’

Sudden dementia
In 2001 an infection in his brain brought an abrupt end to his new world. ‘The worst time of my life. From one day to the next I could not talk, eat or walk anymore. I was demented. My eyes rolled in their sockets, I was unstable and aggressive. It is unbelievably difficult when you can’t put a key in a keyhole because your hand is shaking too much. So you can’t even go outside. It was horrible for me, as well as for my partner Felipe. He had no idea whether this was a temporary condition or a permanent one.’
For months Nefkens remained in the AMC (University Medical Centre) in Amsterdam. After that came a period of physiotherapy, speech and reading lessons. ‘I did write short pieces during that time, but I could not read them. Many times I thought, “I am back”, only to find out I wasn’t there yet. Not until 2004 did I completely recover. A more powerful version of Han Nefkens than ever before. I was a real struggle for me to learn all the everyday things all over again. But that persistence never went away and now it manifests itself in all the things I undertake. However, my balance is not so great anymore and I forget things now and again, but that happens anyway to people over 57.’
Nefkens has been in a relationship for 33 years with Felipe, a furnisher restorer from Mexico. How he keeps the relationship alive? He grins. ‘Well, you mustn’t take yourself too seriously and respect people for who they are. Felipe is quiet and caring. I still feel the love. We are doing well together, which wasn’t always the case during my recovery. Together we became stronger.’
Today Nefkens is busier than ever with his art and AIDS projects. In the beginning he mostly bought existing art: a silver-plated dress by Viktor & Rolf, a hat by Hussein Chalayan with LED lighting. Nowadays he only commissions works. ‘It is much more exciting than buying a piece off the wall, because I am more involved in it.’ He is thrilled about the fact that museums are increasingly putting together exhibitions about fashion and fashion designers. ‘But I go beyond exhibiting them; I want to let a designer create something new, something that doesn’t exist yet.’
Nefkens does not buy art as an investment, but to share it. ‘Sharing is an antidote to loneliness’, he feels. ‘As a little boy I loved people, only I could not reach them. Thanks to fashion and art, now I can. I loan the works I buy to museums and when I die they become part of their permanent collection.’ His only condition is that museums are required to display the Nefkens collection once every five years.

Prize for designers
In 2005 Nefkens instituted the H+F Fashion Award, a biannual international prize of
€ 25,000 to give fashion designers the opportunity of realising difficult projects. This year the prize was awarded to the young Korean designer Regina Pyo. She is making a presentation that will be shown in Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen next September. ‘We work with scouts all over the world. This time we wanted to emphasize non-western designers. I thoroughly enjoy to follow the process, the astonishment and joy of the winner who can hardly believe that she can make a free project, the discussions we have during the creative process and then ultimately the exhibition where all those ideas have become tangible.’
These last years, Nefkens is better known as a patron of the arts. ‘For me that was more difficult than coming out of the closet as a homosexual or being HIV-positive. There is a conceited air to ‘patron of the arts’. People with money should be discreet. But Sjarel Ex thought that I should be an example to other private sponsors. And it works.’
He loves to give things away. Each year he sends boxes of clothes he hardly wore to his friends. Those boxes are known as the Nef-Nef collection. He laughs: ‘I am happy that others enjoy them more than I did.’

Curriculum vitae
Born 1954 in Rotterdam.
Studied journalism in France and the United States.
Work From 1978 to 1989 Nefkens is a radio correspondent in Mexico, where in 1987 he is given the news that he is HIV-positive. In 1995 he published his first book, Bloedverwanten (Blood brothers), and after that he wrote, among other things, De gevlogen vogel (Borrowed Time), about his recovery from his bout with encephalitis.
Art collection The art works that he has acquired since 2001 are part of the H+F Collection; the Award he instituted in 2005 bears the same name.

For his work as patron of the arts Nefkens received the Zilveren Anjer (Silver Carnation) in 2011.

He is one of Europe’s foremost collectors, he collaborates with the Museum Boijmans in Rotterdam in the production of new works, and he was recently honoured with two major Spanish art collecting prizes, the ARCO and GAC Catalan galleries’ awards. For Han Nefkens, patronage is equivalent to commitment.

He has not purchased a single artwork since 2006, but he is nonetheless one of Europe’s most committed collectors. Han Nefkens was born in Rotterdam in 1954, but lived and worked all over the world before arriving in Spain, more specifically in Barcelona. Invited by Foto Colectania Foundation to show his work in the Catalan capital, Nefkens ended up making the city his home. His collection has continued to increase substantially in the years that followed, but only through specific works that he himself finances. Nefkens has gone one step further in private art collecting.

From the outset, Nefkens’ modus operandi differed from that of other art collectors. One day, as he was visiting a Pipilotti Rist exhibition during a 1999 trip to Paris, he decided. “I want to be part of this world of art,” he told himself. But he did not want his role to be that of a buyer who wants to decorate his living room, and he was even less interested in buying works and keeping them in storage. Nefkens wanted to share the art. “I mulled over how to do it for a year, until I met the then-director of the Centraal Museum at Utrecht, Sjarel Ex. I shared my concerns with him and we came to an agreement that my purchases would go directly into this museum in The Netherlands as long-term loans. And from there, similar collaborations developed with other art centres.” So that’s exactly what happened with his first purchases: Bill Viola, Tony Oursler and, of course, Pipilotti Rist.

BUYING FOR MUSEUMS

Is this approach to buying reflected in the H+F Collection?

Yes, of course. I own 450 works by 87 artists, and I’ve bought more than one work by almost all of them, sometimes from different periods to show the way they evolve, sometimes whole series of photographs. Right from the start I wanted to buy artworks without worrying about their size. I bought sculptures and installations, huge pieces, always with the museum in mind.

But Nefkens, who is incidentally also a writer, could not stop there. His restless and committed nature led him to the next level. “Once I’d spent some time collaborating with museums, I realised that one of the challenges that artists face is the lack of funding to produce their works. Over the past five years, I’ve commissioned and produced specific works, sometimes at the suggestion of a museum, other times in collaboration with one.” And this has also given rise to the pieces that belong to his two foundations, ArtAids and H+F.

“The aim of the ArtAids Foundation is to raise public awareness of AIDS and to destigmatise it. I am HIV positive, and it’s important to me. These artworks are inspired by HIV, but almost always metaphorically. They’re related to big ideas such as isolation, for example, but they’re also about the joy of living,” he explains.

So he soon began to prioritise this way of working with artists and museums. “I like commissioning as a working method – it’s a vote of confidence in the artist. It leads to a whole new work being created for a particular space, a museum. The artist is happy to have produced a new piece, the museum is happy to have a new, specific work, and I’m happy because I’ve been able to accompany the whole creative process. I feel like a midwife, assisting at the birth.”

Did you always realise that your collection was more than just a private matter?

A collection is a private passion that benefits the public. Art is a reflection of the world, made for the world. And the more people who see it, the better.

Have you ever considered running your own exhibition space?

Never. I like working with different institutions. I collaborate with the Museum Boijmans in The Netherlands, and in Barcelona I work with the Miró Foundation – I produced one of the works for its Pipilotti Rist exhibition – and with MACBA, where we’ve just set up this new 50,000 prize for the production of a new work by a non-Western artist.

MUCH MORE THAN EUROPE

And this leads us to another of Nefkens’ interests: so-called “peripheral” art makes up a significant part of his collection. Some of his favourites include works by Zwelethu Mthethwa, Rinko Kawauchi and Manit Sriwanichpoom, artists from South Africa, Japan and Thailand, respectively. “The world is much more than Europe and the USA, there are some very interesting artists in places that I had never heard of. I go out of my way to get to know these artists, I’ve lived in many countries and I travel a lot, I’m cosmopolitan, and this has shaped my understanding of art” says Nefkens, who has lived in London, the United States, France and Mexico and spent long periods in Thailand. He settled in Barcelona because he loves the Mediterranean lifestyle, “the people on the streets, the long Sunday lunches, the blue sky. Barcelona’s art scene is quite active, and they’ve welcomed me with open arms.”

Even so, Carmela García and Prudencio Irazábal are the only two Spanish artists in your collection. Does this mean you aren’t interested in Spanish art?

It actually reflects the lack of Spanish artists on the international scene. Between 2001 and 2006 I was buying art at the big fairs in Basel, London and New York, and at the major galleries, and there are not many Spanish artists there. But this doesn’t mean that I’m not interested in Spanish art. In fact, we collaborated with several Spanish artists for the first ArtAids exhibition in Barcelona in 2009.

Your collection suggests that you are very loyal to a relatively small group of artists.

It’s important to follow artists. Commissioning a work means making a commitment to the artist and to his or her work. And this endures in time, there’s no reason why it should only happen once.

What makes a good collection?

A good collection should be a reflection of the collector. Seeing the works should give you a sense of the buyer’s personality, of the person who is behind it. A series of 100 works by 100 different artists is a dispersed collection, and the same goes for generic collections that bring many fashionable artists together but don’t say anything about the collector.

Has art changed you?

Absolutely. Art isn’t just a way of seeing the world; it’s also a way of showing the world who I am. Thanks to art, I actively form part of the world.

PAULA ACHIAGA

After studying journalism, Nefkens worked for 11 years as a radio correspondent in Mexico. In 1987, after finding out he was HIV positive, he realised the importance of time, and for him, the most important moment is the present. In 2006 he set up the ArtAids Foundation which uses art to increase awareness of the problem of AIDS, to combat stigmatisation and to improve the lives of people living with the disease. The Fundació Joan Miró in Barcelona is showing the exhibition You are not alone featuring works from the ArtAids collection until 18 September. The exhibition Han Nefkens, 10 Years of Patronage is also open this summer in the Netherlands celebrating the collector’s first ten years as a patron of the arts. Nefkens has recently been presented with the prestigious Silver Carnation by Queen Beatrix of the Netherlands, an award set up by the Prince Bernhard Culture Fund to honour the work of people who make an altruistic and extraordinary contribution to Dutch culture. Jeff Wall, Sam Taylor-Wood, Bill Viola, Félix González-Torres and Shirin Neshat are just some of the artists represented in Nefkens’ collection which, rather than selfishly amassing in his home, he donates directly to galleries.

You are Dutch, so what brings you to Barcelona?

I am Dutch, but a roaming Dutchman, because from the age of 19 I’ve lived outside the Netherlands; first in France, then in the USA, Mexico, London and now in Barcelona. Before coming to live here, I’d spent long periods of time in the city, and in 2006, I put on an exhibition in Foto Colectania. I was completely seduced by Barcelona and in 2008 I came to live here for good. I love the dynamism of the city, the Mediterranean character and the lifestyle.

Tell us about your artistic activities.

I’m very privileged because I’m able to dedicate myself to what I like – to writing and to various art projects, which are numerous and very diverse. First of all there’s collecting, which involves buying or commissioning works and you can see these on my website [www.hfcollection.org]; there’s the collection in the Boijmans Van Beuningen museum in Rotterdam, which commissions work specifically for the museum; the Fashion on the Edge project where we look for designers and artists who work across fashion and art and commission them to produce works that can be exhibited in the museum; and I have the ArtAids Foundation with centres in the Netherlands, Barcelona and Bangkok, which also commissions works of art. Another thing is the curatorial project, H+F Curatorial Grant, in collaboration with FRAC Nord-Pas de Calais. We choose a young curator to organise an exhibition and work on specific projects which will give them practical experience, like the exhibition at The Fundació Joan Miró, You are not alone.

What is the objective of the ArtAids Foundation?

To raise awareness among people that there’s no need to exclude people who have HIV, to remind them that the virus exists and that they should take precautions. In Spain we have the Han Nefkens Foundation and the idea is to carry out projects with different museums. We’ve just started collaborating with the MACBA and on this occasion, an Iranian artist, Natascha Sadr, will exhibit in La Capella…art needs to be shared, it reflects the world…working with museums is the best thing because they already have their own infrastructures, and for them, it’s great to have people who can help financially with their projects.

Do you choose the works you collect or do you consult advisors?

I’ve been collecting for ten years and I don’t have advisors. For the first five years I bought from galleries and fairs. When I started collecting, I never stopped to think about whether the piece would fit in my house; I always imagined it hanging on the wall of a museum. It was around that time when I realised that a lot of artists lack the resources to work on their projects. That’s what made me decide to start funding art production…

So, it’s also about patronage…

Well, not ‘also’; that’s the main thing!

What was the first piece you bought?

It was in 1999 during a visit to New York. While I was going around galleries I was thinking about how much I’d like to buy works to share them. But, before buying anything, for a year I tried to find out more about the artists and galleries and I spoke to the director of a museum in the Netherlands. The first thing I bought was a video installation by Pipilotti Rist, who I would afterwards commission to create a piece for The Fundació Joan Miró. I usually work with a number of museums: four in the Netherlands, one in Germany, another one in France, and now I’ve started collaborating with the MACBA and The Fundació Joan Miró in Barcelona.

Have you thought about opening your own museum?

No, I don’t want my own museum…the world isn’t waiting for another museum. I can have more influence helping existing institutions. Besides, it’s more practical because a museum already has its own infrastructure and network of contacts. I save time and money that way.

How do you choose the artists?

The first thing is that you like their work. It’s an intuitive thing. If it draws me in, then I also look to see if I’m interested in the artist’s career.

When you commission a piece, does the artist have freedom to choose the subject?

Yes, unless it’s for ArtAids, in which case the theme should be HIV, even if the reference is metaphorical. We work with artists from Morocco, Lithuania, the Netherlands, the United States, Thailand, Denmark, Vietnam, Chile, Argentina, South Africa and Spain. Each one has their own personality and, in fact, you can see the cultural differences. I’ve been working in Thailand for years and we have a project there with experts from different countries who send us information about artists from those places, which helps us develop an international network.

The works that you commission from artists for museums, are they long-term loans or donations?

Some works are long-term loans, others are donations, with the condition that, when I die, they stay in the museums.

Does it worry you that people know you’re HIV positive?

No. For me it’s just like any other illness. It’s extremely important that people aren’t scared and don’t reject people with HIV. If the aim of my projects is to contribute to erasing the stigma of HIV, then I can’t hide away myself.

Has it changed your outlook on life?

Before I found out, 24 years ago, I imagined that life had no end. Now I realise that we live on borrowed time and that what we do each day is important. The biggest change I’ve experienced is that I value time, and that gives me the energy to do what I want to do and I’m not frightened.

Are there any pieces you’ve not given away?

I give everything away…they’re all in museums. I have very few pieces at home: I have Thomas Ruff, Bernard Frize, Prudencio Irazábal, Shirin Neshat, Roni Horn…

Being a patron of the arts, you must have had lots of experiences. Can you tell us about any of them?

Pipilotti Rist was the first artist whose work I bought. Before I was a collector, I was in Paris at her exhibition Remake of the weekend, which had a massive impact on me. Her work draws you in completely; it’s a total immersion. When I left I said to myself ‘I want to be a part of this world’. It was completely by accident that hers was the first work I bought. Later, when she came to Barcelona, we were setting up a project in La Mina [a neighbourhood of Barcelona] about HIV that was going to be shown in the library of The Fundació Joan Miró and I invited her to take part. It seemed strange to me that this artist, whose work had sparked my interest in art, was now interested in what I was doing…it was like a circle closing…I remember another story, almost like an adventure. We were putting on an exhibition in Thailand featuring artists from there as well as some Europeans and, because of political problems, they closed Bangkok airport and there was no way to leave the country. We were stuck there for five days before we managed to get a flight. The stay was incredible because we felt almost like a family. That experience forged a very strong bond between us.

When commissioning works, have you ever been surprised by the end result…?

Yes, but nearly always in a positive way. Before starting a piece, the artist presents a proposal and we can always be sure that through the course of the creative process, the final result will be different from the initial proposal.

And what about the budget?

The piece has to be created with the budget in mind. If the artist thinks that it could be more expensive, that’s discussed during the process, never at the end. The artist has freedom, but sometimes it’s not what we think. Being in contact with other people and sharing a passion for art with artists from different cultures helps you learn about different ways of thinking; I’m always struck by that.

What books do you read?

I read a lot. I’m an avid reader: fiction, art, economics, neuroscience, books that help you understand the world better…

M. Perera

Would he have also become a patron without HIV? Han Nefkens carefully considers the question over a plate of pumpkin risotto.

Text: Rinskje Koelewijn, Photography: Bob van der Vlist

Only seven of the hundreds of works of art Han Nefkens (57) has purchased or commissioned over the past ten years are displayed at his home in Barcelona where he lives with his Mexican partner Felipe. He has placed the rest of his collection on loan with museums with the agreement that they will be able to keep his work upon his death. He visits some of these museums from time to time to view his own acquisitions. Han Nefkens is called a patron because he supports and gives to the arts. Han Nefkens is also faced with the constant reality of death. He has been HIV positive for twenty-five years now and the effects of the virus almost killed him once back in 2001. He was unable to walk, eat or talk. His entire vocabulary was erased from his mind. It must have been horrific for an author with three novels to his name. After he recovered, he wrote that during that period a word could have just as easily been something you use to eat soup. What would have happened if Han Nefkens (57) had not been HIV positive? Would he have still become a patron? You’ve got to have nerve to ask that question. But Han finds it neither insulting nor hurtful. He gives the question his careful consideration. We are seated at a table in De Harmonie restaurant in Rotterdam, located near the museum park. Han has a trimmed grey beard and is wearing a black blazer, white shirt and jeans. He speaks softly and deliberately – as if he is removing each word from a safe. His name is emblazoned on the front of the the Boijmans Van Beuningen museum around the corner. The museum is featuring an exhibition about him and his patronage. ‘I just dropped by the museum and thought I was looking in a mammoth mirror.’ A film of Han speaking about his life in the same calm tone is being shown on a large screen in the museum as part of the exhibition. He purchased his first work of art ten years ago, a year after he had decided to start collecting art. ‘I was not really that interested in contemporary art before that. It was not until a friend took me to an exhibition in SoHo, New York that I fell in love with it.’ His first acquisition was a room-filling video installation by Swiss artist Pipilotti Rist. It is now on display at the Fundació Joan Miro museum in Spain.

Safety net

He continued buying art for five years. ‘Pre-existing, ready-to-display works.’ He then took it to the next level: ‘Facilitating the birth of art. Enabling the creation of new life.’ Since that point he has also been commissioning artists to produce new pieces. They are sometimes huge works of art. The same Pipilotti Rist installed a gigantic safety net in Boijmans Van Beuningen. Museum visitors can lie in it and watch video presentations being shown on the ceiling. He provides the funding and does not want anything in return. The only condition is that the works of art be placed on public display at least once every five years. ‘I do not collect for the warehouse.’ The second major decision he made was that he wanted to share his art with others. But how do you go about doing that? He wrote a letter to all the museum directors in the Netherlands saying that he was able to buy more art and was keen on contemporary art, photography, video art and installations. He asked whether the directors were interested in joining forces with him to set up some kind of project. The answer was no. ‘Nobody responded.’ And why would they? No one in the art world had ever heard of Han Nefkens. He was not an artist, not an art historian and, at that time, not even an art collector. ‘I don’t think they knew how to react to the proposal.’ One director did, however, respond to his proposal. It was Sjarel Ex, who at that time was director of the Centraal Museum in Utrecht and is now director of Boijmans Van Beuningen. An entire wing of the museum in Rotterdam is now devoted to works from the H+F Collection, which has been named after Han and his partner Felipe. He and the museum jointly manage the H+F Mecenaat that conceives and finances art projects. He has set up a scholarship fund for Spanish-language writers and talented curators. Through ArtAids, Nefkens presents awards to artists who have created works inspired by AIDS. He commissioned the artist duo Elmgreen and Dragset to create a work that draws its inspiration from AIDS for the upcoming ArtAids exhibition. They have created a sculpture depicting the wine god Bacchus with a drip in his arm. Han Nefkens has in the meantime inconspicuously cut the oxtail on his plate into bite-sized pieces. One arm and the fingers on his other hand have been underdeveloped since birth. ‘When I was a child, it bothered me that I was physically different from other people. I didn’t sense that I fit in and felt very lonely.’ To make matters worse, he did not excel at school. ‘I was held back so many times. I couldn’t concentrate and was constantly daydreaming. My father thought I was not applying myself and put it down to laziness.’ Nefkens decided on his own to move from Rotterdam to The Hague to live with an aunt because there was a Montessori school there. ‘I thought I would do better at a non-traditional school.’ He earned his high school diploma and then went on to study in America and Mexico. But the sense of laziness and loneliness remained. ‘I recognised that feeling in art. It is the emotion that is depicted in everything I collect. The works all have something detached about them. A photograph of a half-full bathtub, an image of a meal that has just been touched, an empty street with stoplights. As if the people have just walked away for a while.‘ His father, who is now 92, attended the ceremony last Thursday when Han Nefkens was presented with a Silver Carnation from Her Majesty Queen Beatrix of the Netherlands. It is an accolade from the Prince Bernhard Culture Fund for people who are dedicated to art. Nefkens received the distinction for his work as a patron. ‘Being a patron is about more than just money. While the money is necessary, you’ve also got to have ideas, perseverance and the will to work in partnership.’ While he prefers to call himself an ‘art activist’, he has learned to live with the term patron. ‘You associate it with rich bastards who dole out their money. A lethargic old man.’ Museum director Sjarel Ex thought he should give up his anonymity and be upfront about being a wealthy man who invests in art. He really did not have any other option with the text in big letters on the front of the museum and the exhibition booklet’s cover that reads: Han Nefkens. A decade as a patron. You would expect him at this point to give a high-and-mighty speech about how important it is for wealthy individuals to invest in art, certainly during an era of government spending cuts. But he doesn’t. ‘I give and share because it makes me feel good. Scientific research has shown that a pleasurable substance is produced in the brain when you give. Sharing is the antidote to loneliness.’

Love

How did he get all his money? Han Nefkens does not see it as an inappropriate question. The answer is: from his father. He is an architect and property developer. He first worked for many years in Rotterdam and is now involved in the construction of the Piet Hein Building in the IJ area of Amsterdam. His father began covering Han’s living expenses when Han was diagnosed as HIV positive in 1987. Han Nefkens was living in Mexico at the time. He had studied creative writing there and met his current partner Felipe, they were both 24. Han was working as a radio correspondent for the VARA, VPRO and IKON broadcasting companies. He had a case of bronchitis that just did not go away. It turned out to be caused by the HIV infection. ‘I could no longer work. And there was also no way to stay in Mexico because I could not receive treatment there. So I went to America. That’s when my father said he would help me.’ His mother had already died of cancer many years before at the age of 47. Han, who is the eldest of five children, was sixteen at the time of his mother’s death. Anyone who contracted HIV in the 1980s usually went on to develop AIDS and die. ‘It was a death sentence.’ His younger brother, who was also HIV positive, died within a few months. Han Nefkens has now been living with HIV for 25 years. The antiretrovirals often make him tired and nauseous. But anything is better than death. He almost did not make it in 2001 when the virus caused an infection in his brain. It took him two years to re-learn how to walk, eat and talk. ‘If I rediscovered a word, I would immediately remember it in every language I had ever learned – English, Spanish and Catalan.’ He wrote the book De gevlogen vogel (The Bird Has Flown) about his return from what he calls ‘an incredible journey’. The book is comprised of short column-style pieces about the course of his illness. One nurse said to the other: ‘What are you supposed to say to someone who has been lying in bed for weeks and has not said a word?’ The other: ‘Oh, I just jabber away about anything and nothing, it’s all the same to him.’ His father has converted the monthly allowance into a financial plan whereby all the children receive a share of the interest earned on the family capital that Nefken’s father manages. It is not difficult to guess who set the example when it comes to giving: ‘It seems the older I get, the more like him I become. He’s always working on a project. Impassioned. Focussed on others.’ He is also unselfish because his father is not that crazy about his son’s preferences. ‘He loves sixteenth century art and has very little affinity with contemporary art. Early on he thought it was a pity that I invested in it. It is to his credit that he has always let me do what felt right to me.’ Once we have left the restaurant and are on our way to the Boijmans Van Beuningen museum, he goes back to the question whether he would have become a patron if he was not HIV positive. ‘The big advantage to HIV is that it releases you from the illusion that your life will last forever.’ Just before he is standing eye to eye with the video screen showing a film of him speaking, he is still thinking about his answer. He pauses for a moment in the courtyard. He commissioned the black-and-white floor fresco. He funded artist Olaf Nicolai’s creation of the ‘football cage’, a steel construction with mirrors inside. When you stand in it, you feel like you are a footballer in a stadium. ‘Would I have appreciated the value of sharing without HIV?’ He doesn’t think so. ‘I realise the relativity of possession. You can’t take anything with you. The art I buy does not belong to me. I look after it. I do not have to give up anything, because I do not have anything.’ He can live on peacefully because his inheritance has already been distributed.

CV

Born: Rotterdam, 1954

Civil status: Has been living with Felipe for 32 years

Favourite book: Joan Didion, The book of common prayer

Favourite film: Woody Allen’s Annie Hall

Favourite work of art: ‘An impossible question. Oh well, I’ll give it a shot: the Notion Motion by Danish-Icelandic artist Olafur Eliasson.‘ The installation was commissioned by H+F Mecenaat in 2005 for the Boijmans Van Beuningen museum in Rotterdam

Favourite food: Arroz negro (black rice)

First job: English teacher in Mexico

Indispensable item: Earplugs ‘Otherwise I can’t sleep.’

The Silver Carnation

The Silver Carnation was instituted in 1950 by His Royal Highness Prince Bernhard and the Prince Bernhard Fund. Her Majesty Queen Beatrix is presenting the Silver Carnations today to Han Nefkens, Countess Isabelle zu Ortenburg – Countess van Aldenburg Bentinck (De Steeg, 1925) for her commitment to conserving Middachten Castle, and to Joke Sickmann (Amsterdam, 1932) for her activities in the field of history in her hometown of Amersfoort.

INTERVIEW HAN NEFKENS, PATRON

People really do not have to give as much money as he did to artists, says Han Nefkens. ‘You can also commission a work or provide a grant.’

By Jonathan Witteman

Han Nefkens (1954) did not find coming out as a gay man and later as an HIV patient as tough as his latest coming-out as a patron. ‘I never had a problem coming out as a gay man and also not as being seropositive for HIV. I’ve always seen both as facts of life, not as something to be ashamed of. But being open about my patronage was more difficult because it meant I had to reveal that I have money. I was most afraid of how people would react and that they would say: Who does he think he is?’ Han Nefkens has been one of the world’s most ambitious patrons of contemporary visual arts for over a decade. While he served as an anonymous benefactor for the first few years, in 2005 he began the process of timidly coming out into the open about his patronage activities. A ‛De Medici for the twenty-first century’ is what Spanish newspaper El Mundo called him. He has now placed almost his entire collection, which currently comprises more than four hundred works by artists such as Jeff Wall, Bill Viola, Pipilotti Rist, Robert Zandvliet, on permanent loan to museums including Boijmans Van Beuningen, Museum de Pont, Fundació Joan Miró in Barcelona and FRAC Nord-Pas de Calais in Dunkirk. He set up the H+F Curatorial Grant for talented curators, ArtAids for the fight against HIV, H+F Fashion on the Edge for artistic fashion designers, and the Han Nefkens Scholarship for promising Spanish-language writers. Nefkens has left his boisterous hometown of Barcelona, which is in the grip of protests against the Spanish government, to spend a few days in the Netherlands. He is here because the Boijmans Van Beuningen museum will be opening a special exhibition on Saturday that pays tribute to Han Nefkens’ first decade as a patron. And today Her Majesty Queen Beatrix will pin the 2011 Silver Carnation on his lapel at a ceremony to be held at the Royal Palace on Dam Square in Amsterdam. Nefkens is being presented with this distinction by the Prince Bernhard Culture Fund for his ‛important role in achieving the ambitions of cultural institutions’. ‘I will tell Her Majesty how tremendously honoured I am with this recognition,’ Nefkens says in the lounge of Hotel de l’Europe in Amsterdam as he prepares to attend the event. ‘But I will also say to her that I see it above all as an accolade to all the people I have worked with over the past ten years.’ Has he always been so altruistic? ‘The word altruism implies I have to give up something in order to give to others. But I don’t feel that I am losing anything, but instead experience giving as something that enriches me.’

Massive motor

Nefkens comes from a wealthy entrepreneurial family. His father, who is now a 92-year-old architect, made his fortune as a property developer. While collecting art is not an irregular hobby for the wealthy, Nefkens is anything but a regular collector. Almost the only time he ever sees any of the hundreds of artworks in his collection is in museums. Nefkens’ adage is: Those who share are not alone. His life as patron of the arts began in 1999 with an experience Nefkens describes in almost religious terms. ‘In the spring of 1999, I was in Paris and visited an exhibition by Pipilotti Rist. Her exhibitions are an immersion – sensual, you feel the water, you smell the moss. That’s when I thought: I have got to play some part in this world. But I did not know how. One thing was clear to me though: I want to share what I believe is beautiful. So hanging art on my walls at home was not an option. Nefkens was diagnosed as being HIV positive in 1987. Until then he had been a radio correspondent in Mexico for Dutch broadcasting companies including VARA and VPRO. After his diagnosis, Nefkens bid farewell to the journalist’s life and started on what would ultimately be his debut autobiographical novel Bloedverwanten (Blood Brothers) that was published in 1995. In late 2001, it looked like HIV would claim his life after all. Nefkens caught encephalitis, a common condition among HIV-infected persons. He was practically senile during the first months of his illness. But unlike so many of his fellow sufferers, Nefkens returned, as he puts is, from the wilderness. Nefkens says his cognitive abilities have been restored completely. He does not, however, have clear recollections of everything that happened before 2001, but instead has memories of only the ‛greatest hits’. De gevlogen vogel (The Bird Has Flown) was published in 2008 and is Nefkens’ account of his recovery that took years. The future looks bright for Nefkens. His illness left him with a lasting sense of urgency. He does not think in five-year plans – it has to happen now. ‘I have come so close to death that it has fuelled a massive motor inside of me.’

Shareholder

Nefkens prefers to call himself an ‘art activist’ rather than a patron or collector. He commissions works and organises competitions. A good example is the ArtAids Video Awards, which is an award for talented video artists. Of the 45 contenders for the award, Nefkens selected the 28-year-old Brazilian video artist Gabriel Mascaro as the winner. ‘The wonderful thing about this award is that it gives us the opportunity to see art that we would be unlikely to see otherwise. Mascaro is someone who needs just that added boost to break through in Europe as well.’ If Dutch State Secretary for Culture Zijlstra graces the Silver Carnation presentation ceremony with his presence today, what would Nefkens like to say to him? ‘I would ask him whether he likes art. Because his measures do not reflect a love of art. I would also tell him that I applaud having patrons more involved in the arts. But patronage must exist in addition to government support, not without it.’ His most important advice is: ‘We need to dispel the myth in the Netherlands that you can only be a patron if you are wealthy. You can achieve a huge amount by contributing 2,000 euros a year as part of a group of fifteen people. This will give you enough to commission work, give an artist a grant and finance a publication. In this way you can make people shareholders of the cultural sector. I am certain that there are thousands of people in the Netherlands who would like to contribute, but don’t know where to start.’ ‘I did not know what my role should be. But I did know that I wanted to share what I believe is beautiful. So hanging art on my walls at home was not an option.’

By Vanessa Graell.

Han Nefkens thinks of himself as an art ‘activist’ – he does not come close to the strict definition of an art collector. Nor indeed does he fit the description of art dealer or even that of artist representative although he does, on occasion, act as a go-between for museums and artists. Nefkens is not a typical Dutch art sponsor (he was born in Rotterdam in 1954) and he has made art his life. Art, in his case, is a life and death issue. In the course of his long struggle against HIV – he was diagnosed with the AIDS virus in 1987 – Nefkens discovered a way of transcending this and of leaving his mark through helping artists of all nationalities and colours. ‘You think of a collector as someone who wants to possess and build up collections of works. I try to do quite the opposite. When there are works that speak to me, move me, ones that I appreciate, I send them out to share them with the world. When all is said and done, creativity is something by the world for the world. It is something that enriches you too. What would you do if you had an enormous chocolate cake? Obviously you could eat is all yourself, but it is more fun to share it.’ This is how Nefkens sums up his philosophy of life. This wandering Dutchman travelled half the world (he studied in France and the United States and lived in Mexico for more than 10 years) before settling in Barcelona. However, Nefkens was not happy merely to set up a standard foundation (he does have one, ArtAids, that he founded in 2001 to raise public consciousness of AIDS through art; ‘the aim was to attract attention, to say that HIV is still there and not to forget that we are living with it,’ he notes), but rather he uses all his economic resources to weave a whole international support network for artists, whether they are emerging talents or established names. Nefkens has been living in Barcelona for two years and has made the city one of his main operational bases. Alfabia, the publishers, have just commissioned translation of his autobiography, Borrowed Time, the Joan Miró Foundation is mounting an exhibition in June of 16 artists from his ArtAids Foundation (which has headquarters in Amsterdam, Bangkok and Barcelona), and discussions are already under way with the Macba about mounting an installation by Iranian artist, Natascha Sadr in La Capella. Not to mention the H+F Collection (H is for Han and F for Felipe, his partner) which already has 450 works by artists such as Tony Oursler, Bill Viola and Olafur Eliasson. That collection is distributed among different museums throughout the world, either on loan or as a donation. The blame for all this lies with Pipilotti Rist, a Swiss artist who changed her name to be more like Pippi Langstrump and whose work is an explosion of colourful pop music, a psychedelic world in which it is easy to lose oneself. And that is what happened to Han Nefkens in Paris, at the Remake of a Weekend exhibition, way back in 1999, at a time when he did not even imagine himself having a collection. ‘Rist aroused my curiosity. I was absorbed by her work. I said to myself “I want to do something in this world.” And I started to make contacts with people in galleries, with museum directors and artists,’ he recalls. Barely months later, Nefkens was already making a contribution to the Centraal Museum in Utrecht, specifically a work by Pipilotti. When she received an award from the Joan Miró Foundation last year, Nefkens also donated a work of his, Double Light, to the museum in Barcelona. ‘Barcelona has a very interesting art circuit but the trouble is that there is no culture of collecting or of active sponsorship.’ But then he came and filled this gap. Dutchman Han Nefkens, a sponsor for a modern age, has settled in Barcelona. Works by ArtAids artists: Elmgreen & Dragse, Shirana Shabazi, Otto Berchem and David Goldblatt. ‘Borrowed’ literature ‘I always feel an uncomfortable lump in my throat when my little sister tells me that I didn’t recognise her whenever she visited me in hospital (…) I know how special it is to be one of the few who have returned from that long journey into savage and unknown territory.’ Han Nefkens is also a writer. And Alfabia has just published his most personal work, Borrowed Time, in which he recounts his long battle with HIV and how he overcame aphasia (he had to re-learn how to read, write and walk). While several of his books have been published in Holland, Borrowed Time is the first to come out in Spain. In it he writes with brutal and understated sincerity, verging on the poetic. Courtesy of Alfabia, Nefkens now moves into literary sponsorship by ‘loaning time’ to a writer with grant that funds a year in which to write a book.

By Frits de Coninck
Photograph Jeannine Govaers

You could call him a collector without a collection. This description fits because he almost always immediately contributes any works of art he acquires to the Utrecht Central Museum, Boijmans Museum, Huis Marseille, De Pont, multiple museums in Dunkirk and Reykjavik and the Fondació Joan Miró in Barcelona. He either donates the artworks or places them with the museums on loan, which is actually the same as a promised gift. How would you define collecting? ‘To me it means bringing together objects that resemble and interrelate with each other and then transforming them into one unified entity. While I’m a collector, I prefer to see myself as an art activist, a facilitator. I get an idea, organise the required finances and engage the right artists, curators and museum professionals. This creates something new that I subsequently send into the world.’ Nefkens does not like the term patron because he thinks it sounds old-fashioned and pretentious.

Pipilotti Rist is the connecting thread within the H + F Collection. ‘I first saw an exhibition of her work in Paris back in 1999. It was my first introduction to her work and I was extremely impressed by what I saw. So that’s when I started looking around for Rist artworks and came into contact with Sjarel Ex, the former director of the Central Museum. We attended Art Basel together in 2001 and each made a shortlist of the works we thought were extraordinary. My choice was Rist’s video entitled Cinquante Fifty. I was able to buy it and immediately gave it to the Central Museum on loan. I also facilitated the production of two video pieces: Let Your Hair Down that can be seen in Boijmans Museum and Double Light that I donated to Fundació Joan Miró.’ He is also captivated by the work of Jeff Wall, Sam Taylor Wood, Tony Oursler, Roni Horn and Bill Viola. ‘My collection forms an entity; it is an image of who I am. You can’t remove any of the parts without damaging the whole.’ Virtually everything in the collection is on public view. Nefkens and his partner Filipe live in their apartment surrounded by works of artists including Thomas Ruff, Roni Horn and Shirin Neshat. ‘What draws me to art is the restrained power it embodies that is both subtle and poetic. It’s a force you can feel without having to give it a name straightaway. That’s what counts when you’re making a purchase. First there is the “coup de foudre” and then the question of whether I want to buy the related work of art. I’m not interested in buying one good piece from an artist who for the rest produces only mediocre work. My objective is always to enter into a relationship with the artist.’ Nefkens’ collection is extremely up to date. He has never purchased older works; he is a man of his times. ‘I’ve now stopped buying existing pieces and am focussing fully on commissioning the production of works. As a result I am always ahead of the times. I help pay for something that does not already exist. So it’s always surprising. I recently entered into an agreement with the Boijmans Museum to extend the “Fashion on the Edge” project until 2015. The museum consequently knows what they can count on.’

One of Nefken’s most striking qualities as a collector is his openness. He displays his collection of 440 works online. The way he presents himself as a collector is also rather atypically Dutch. He says it was easier for him to tell people he is HIV positive than it was to say that he is a collector. ‘It took me five years to come out as a collector. Like most Calvinists, I was afraid to present myself as a wealthy man. It’s completely ridiculous of course. If I were to leave my money to a museum after my death, no one would say a word. So why can’t I give it away while I’m still alive? I’ve now overcome my embarrassment. People actually have to know so that they can do the same. And… I share. People can see and enjoy the works at a museum. Art enriches my life. That’s what it is all about – working together with others to create something that would not have been here otherwise.’