About Bettina Heinen-Ayech

The study and painting trips around the world always led back to the Heinen home in Solingen, to her father, Hanns Heinen. For almost ten years, he was editor-in-chief of the “Solinger Tageblatt” and steeled himself with scepticism and a visibly insurmountable outer calm, a necessary requirement for spiritual self-assertion during the war and post-war years, to achieve the sensitivity of a poet who shone with his poems published in Bettina’s book. Her mother, Erna Heinen-Steinhoff, was a woman who would be remembered as mysteriously illuminated, an intelligent guardian and wise inspirer. In this house, all thoughts and artistic expressions were more important than material items. The silent, external reclusiveness was festively broken when the rolls of photos were unbundled upon her return home. The painting was always an accompaniment to the words, as being in the home of poet Hanns Heinen meant experiencing art along with an obligation of expression. Looking back at those years now, Bettina says: “What I experienced during my youth from my parent’s home and my teacher formed the backbone for my life in Algeria which often involved solitude.” She broke away from her youth in 1960. Acquaintance with Abdelhamid Ayech in Paris! The silvery grey city compelled new colours. The Louvre! Fear! Images of chimera!

On 3 February 1961, daughter Diana was born. However, it wasn’t because of Abdelhamid that Bettina first went to North Africa. In 1962, she was invited by the German Institute of Culture to exhibit in Cairo and used the opportunity to travel around Egypt. Looking back, it was clearly a sign of fate, as her world was forced open as Bowien expressed. Bettina’s African experience was so different from the world she knew that Bowien spoke of “new eyes and new values” and wrote down that a young artist “wanted to be personally involved in the burdens and essence of the people there”. He had found what touched people about Bettina’s art in Algeria! Her artistic direction focussed on pure daily-related themes. It was precisely that which let the European effortlessly overcome some difficulties of life in Algeria, even turning them into positives for her work.

Die Abreise mit Abdelhamid nach Algerien erfolgte ein Jahr später, am 03.02.1963. Zunächst war ein drei Wochen langer Familienbesuch geplant. Nun lebt die Familie fast fünf Jahrzehnte in Hamids Geburtsstadt. Das erste von Bettina in Algerien gemalte Bild zeigt einen Hinterhof, Ausblick aus der damaligen kleinen Wohnung in der Stadtmitte: Vor einer dunklen Mauer flatternde Wäsche. Das blattlose Geknorre eines Weinstrunks, ein alter Fensterladen sind in ein Paradies aus Orangengold und glasiges Grün verwandelt. In heftiges Dunkelblau weht ein Vorhang, aus dem in Scharlachrot Blüten wie Gestirne hervorbrechen … . Wie dieses erste Bild waren viele andere danach von orientalischer Staffage angeregt. Doch wuchs rasch die Fähigkeit Bettinas, das nur Äußerliche zu überwinden und zum „Urgrund“ – so nennt sie es – vorzustoßen.

Over the course of the years, this grew from portraits to visionary. No sightseeing with Bettina. Historical wisdom would be awaited in vain. The cultural motif rarely had more significance to her than incidental vedute. The conflict does not appear on the picture surface; rather, it takes place behind the picture. The range between presence and coming can be seen in particular from the portraits. They steer clear of garrulous communication. But isn’t it precisely this nature of painting that seems so threatened by the editorial-like wordplay in this country today? The voicelessness of the pictures communicates far beyond words! It is precisely this power that is found in Bettina’s art through the grandness of a sunlit landscape ignited by genuine encounters with people. Since all of this somehow evades precise explanation, while at the same time an accomplishment at the core of Bettina’s work, it is for her to give the word: “In the beginning, I painted the country with an insatiable enthusiasm for the bold formations and adventurous change of the seasons with wild romanticism. Soon, however, I quickly realized the perfect presence from which this landscape exists”. Bettina describes the term “perfect presence” as follows: “A typical outlook in Europe always awakened the impression of transition. Somewhere behind it lies the sea. This longing, the painter believes, inevitably roams further in Europe. In Algeria, an outlook gives me the impression of finality, and it is up to me to capture the reality of this in its countless forms through my work.” This can be seen in the fifty faces of the Mahouna mountain, and one won’t find any repetitions. As in a cyclical sequence, an increasing occupation can be seen as a foray into the source. This term is brought up again, as Bettina herself interprets: “I do not want to limit nature to a motif but rather capture it in its entirety. At the same time, it becomes an even greater part of my being.” Certainly, such conflict cannot be separated from the reality of the pure painting process, particularly when painting in the hot south. Bettina creates her landscapes in front of and amidst nature. She often has to undertake long trips alone and limit herself to the absolute necessary. Her technique is crucially defined by the fact that the colours dry immediately on the paper. This prevents the typical process of watercolour painting. The colours are placed together in an almost mosaic-like fashion, which is the reason for the extraordinary brilliance of Bettina’s paintings. At the same time however, this prismatic decomposition is compelled to become a compositionally calculated image architecture. As a result, the key external elements are identified.

To summarize her development in a phrase: In 1965, Bettina ventured into the typical. Since then however, her art advanced to become more refined with a personal quality. The same applied to landscape paintings as well as portraits. With landscapes, the personal refinement points back to the withdrawal of Bettina’s earlier peculiar style. An even more consciously colourful portrayal was employed, yes, one can understand why Bettina spoke “of infiltrating the spirit of a landscape” and can feel what it means when Bettina says she increasingly experiences the landscape as part of her own self. So let us hear from the painter herself again: “I don’t have a concept of time in the European sense during my life in Algeria. I have time to paint, time to think, time to read - in short: time to live. Of course, there is also a feeling of solitude. But I start to capture the essence of the moment.” Bettina fears that this may barely be understood in Germany since the present is instinctively viewed as the past. “However, the natural dignity of the simple people here helps me to tap into the essence of the moment. I feel less and less affected by the problems I read about in letters: I must feel so alone here, my enthusiasm will wane - and: how can I live without European culture? I feel that such letters are becoming more mechanical, meaning that the thoughts and feelings are blunted from a lack of time and reflection and no longer have any significant content. In these moments I’m particularly aware of how much I love Algeria and feel accepted by the people here”. This is how Bettina also explains her admirable relationship with intellectuals. They barely feel the unavoidable reservations, barriers and rivalries of Europe with artists.