I’ve been a photographer for over thirty-five years. I have been living on the IJsselmeer for over thirty-five years. When I open my eyes in the morning, the first thing I see is the IJsselmeer. Sometimes I take pictures of the sea, actually seeing it means something different. Until one day a friend said to me: “You live in your own subject”, then the penny dropped. I set a tripod in front of the bedroom window and began to look. At the beginning you are grateful for every sailboat that comes into the picture.
Every intense discoloration of the sky: a photo. But very quickly you begin to leave out any distraction from the picture. Anyone who is open to this topic will sooner or later do so. I no longer photograph sailboats, nor birds or people. I photograph small waves, fog, rain and clouds. These, too, can be distracting. But they almost always appear shapeless, transparent, wet. They are practically colorless themselves, but they take on the color of the light that hits them and reflect it. In total there are sixty photos, they form the IJsselmeer. None of the photos is more beautiful than another. When you look at photos in this way, you lose yourself in pure aesthetics. I am not looking for the aesthetics. I would like to photograph the wind or light elements that we can only perceive indirectly.
(Wout Berger, excerpt from the artist’s statement in the book)