Colours swirl through the pages of Victoria Redel’s new novel I Am You, like paints on an easel, and so it is no surprise to find out that the author started out as a fine art student. Her book tells the imagined story of real people: the 17th-century Dutch artist Maria van Oosterwijck and her maid, Gerta. But it touches on so much more: what it is to be an artist, the way that colours are made – from minerals, plants, soot, snails, spice and more – and even the lives of the Jews who came to Amsterdam after being expelled from Portugal.
When I meet Redel she tells me that the idea for the book started 20 years ago, in New York, where she lives, when she stepped into a shop called Kremer Pigments “and I saw all these beautiful pigments in jars, and I walked out of the shop, having signed up for a weekend workshop in making paint in the style of the Renaissance paint maker”. Afterwards she knew she wanted to write a book about paint, and called it The Dye-Maker’s Daughter, but the story never developed, and she tucked the idea away to revisit one day. That day came when she spent time in Amsterdam, finishing writing a book of poetry at the Rijksmuseum’s gloriously beautiful library. There she heard of the decidedly obscure Maria van Oosterwijck. Even though she was working in one of the world’s greatest art history libraries, there was little there about Maria, and although she had been a successful artist, not one of her paintings hung in the vast museum.
“There were about seven facts about her, and two or three of them were questionable,” says Redel. But one of those facts was that Maria and her maid had lived together their entire lives, another was that neither had married, and yet another was that Gerta had been trained as an artist by Maria. It felt unusual for Maria to have remained unmarried; marriage opened doors for women artists in those days. So what might have prevented her from choosing that route? “In a novel, those questions for me, they’re like my own little engine,” says Redel. “ I don’t know what I’m going to do. I don’t know how or what will happen, but they’re the mystery I enter. The story develops from the questions I ask.”
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Redel’s story imagines the two women in love, and she skilfully examines the barriers and prejudice they face, and their urgent need for secrecy. The Jewish element of the story comes when Maria engages another maid, Diamanta, who comes from the Portuguese-Jewish community, newly arrived in the Netherlands, and newly able to practise the religion her family had needed to keep secret for generations.
Prickly Gerta at first resents her presence, but later spends time in Diamanta’s home. “This was a big case of the organic nature of writing,” Redel tells me. She thought that Gerta would reject a local Dutch maid, because of her fear of gossip, but would accept Diamanta, thinking she probably didn’t speak Dutch. “She’d want someone who she felt was foreign.”
Introducing Diamanta meant Redel could show a different side of 17th-century Amsterdam: “For all of the restrictions in Amsterdam, there was also great openness. There was a Jewish population. There was a black community.” In Diamanta’s home Gerta learns how the Jewish community live: “For Gerta to enter a home where people have had to live a secret life, and now they’re having a open life, that really struck me,” says Redel.
“What’s happening in that house? They’re beginning to have their world awakened. They’re able to teach their children what they had couldn’t do. So, it’s a new, beautiful discovery for them. And Gerta is given the opportunity to learn something that she would have never planned… and see something interesting and beautiful.” As Gerta puts it in the book: “On Fridays I helped Ximenes cook a dish that in Portugal her family had been forced to hide on threat of death, We are a strange creature – humans – that a dish of lamb neck, eggs, chickpeas, dates, garlic, cinnamon, mint, and turmeric might send a person to her death.”
The fact that Jewishness can threaten a person’s life is present in Redel’s own heritage too – far more recently than the seventeenth century. Both of her parents were born in Europe. Her mother’s family were from Romania, fled to France and were able to escape to America on Persian passports. Her father came from Belgium, and, in a story his daughter fictionalised in her. 2007 novel The Border of Truth, was one of the passengers on the notorious ship Quanza, initially refused entry into the United States and Mexico and about to be returned to Europe until the president’s wife, Eleanor Roosevelt, intervened.
“It was extremely lucky for my family. The results for other Jews in Europe were not good,” says Redel. Powerful men in the administration felt fooled by Eleanor, and were antisemitic too. “So the rules were tightened up, and few Jews were able to escape to the US.”
Both her parents wanted to assimilate, says Redel: “I mean, my name is Victoria!” Her mother, a ballet dancer and teacher, chose the name from the ballet The Red Shoes. “Between them my parents spoke probably six different languages and we were brought up in English. Every language in our house was a secret language, except for English. My mother and grandmother spoke exclusively to each other in Russian. My parents spoke French, and when we started to learn French, they went to German, you know, everything was a secret for me.”
She appreciates her parents’ optimism and determination, building a new life in America, but adds: “There was an incredible disaster mentality inside my house. So it was assimilate, but they’ll definitely be coming for you.” Her father once told her: “Don’t forget, they think you’re a Jew before they think you’re American. And I was like, yeah, come on. Ridiculous.”
Themes of exile and statelessness haunt her work, and in the book of poems, Paradise, she was working on in the Rijksmuseum, those ideas are considered through the lens of the story of the Garden of Eden. One poem, The Garden, is from the perspective of Eve and “I found myself in that kind of conversation with the text, that is so supremely Jewish… And I was surprised and excited to be there.” She began to think about “all those expulsions. On the biblical level, on the mythic level, on the, on the family level. Eventually, it was also exile of the body, but also the great change in a woman’s body as she ages.”
When Redel was writing her poem in the Rijksmuseum, there was no painting there by Maria Van Oosterwijk, but last year - the year I Am You was published in the US – one finally made it, thanks to a group which pushes for more representation of female artists. And here in the UK last week one of her speaking engagements was at the Fitzwilliam Museum in Cambridge, which has a rare work by Gerta Pieters, Maria’s maid, in its collection.
Redel, 67, studied fine art, and could have been a painter but gave it up to become a writer, partly because she realised that she was never going to be a great artist. But writing I Am You made her pick up a brush again.
“I was just messing around and having fun. But I think that’s fine, being this kind of age is really freeing. I’m not going to be a great artist and that is OK, I don’t care any more.”
I Am You, by Victoria Redel, is published by Firefinch
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