The functions of image and language in the work of Ton Mars

[Text in the book: Ton Mars, Echoes & Boundaries, 1994. Published by Gallery Akinci, Amsterdam and Gallery Cora Hölzl, Düsseldorf]

Katalin Herzog


The tiled floors of some medieval cathedrals contain a round or octagonal labyrinth. There is only one entrance to the path that leads to the center after many twists and turns. This path sometimes skirts the goal, sometimes goes far past it, and then fairly abruptly ends at the place of destination. Once at the center, one must turn around and rewind ‘Ariadne’s thread’ to get out again. This is the image I saw in my mind’s eye when I read the title of one of Ton Mars’s recent works: Directions for the Center, Nr.I (Faith and Perseverance).  For some years now, I have been following the development of this artist who lives and works in Groningen with great interest, although I have never been so preoccupied with any aspect of his work before. I did not know how to interpret the title exactly, but I immediately associated it with the ingenious architecture of the labyrinth, which has an age-old tradition and is a tried and tested model for physical and spiritual orientation.1 I suspected this model could help me to discover important clues about the work of Ton Mars and thus, perhaps, also about certain procedures in contemporary art.

The procedures referred to here are the ways in which image and language are combined in twentieth-century art. During this century, not only philosophy but also the visual arts have witnessed a ‘linguistic turn’. Image and language have always co-existed in Western art: sometimes a text was incorporated into an image and images were often inspired by a text, but this occurred as a matter of course. Only in this century did visual artists begin to consciously experiment with and reflect upon the various combinations of images and written or spoken language. Letters and texts may be incorporated into works of art, as in Cubism; they may serve as a medium for works of art, as in Concept art; or language may frame the image in the form of a title and/or commentary, which have become part of the work of art more than ever before.2 

It is rare to come across a ‘wordless’ image these days. But why do some artists forge such a close link between image and language? Is there not also a ‘modern tradition’ in which the image ‘should speak for itself’? And what does the viewer get out of this close relationship between image and language? These are profound questions that cannot be answered in full within the scope of this article. It will be possible, however, to act as viewer and reader and to demonstrate some of the mechanisms that operate in the interaction between image and language within the work of one artist. I will attempt to do so here by following the various paths in the works of Ton Mars. In my interpretations, I will combine my own responses to these works with the results of interviews I have held with the artist.3

When I entered Ton Mars’s studio for the first time in 1991, I was immediately fascinated by the simple appearance of his work. When simplicity presents itself so conspicuously, I always suspect that it is the end result of a long and intensive search, and I was not disappointed in this case either. I was shown the outcome of an eight-year period in which the artist had moved from hesitant abstraction to a personal artistic system that currently manifests itself in multi-part works with poetic titles. What I saw in his studio then and in subsequent years was series of objects in the form of truncated pyramids hung on the wall in such a way that their base was showing. They could be approached frontally, as traditional paintings, but they only revealed their ‘bodies’ if you moved along them.

Each ‘panel’ formed a vibrating color field and had line-like signs that seemed to have been carved in the surface. These signs were angular and refined; they stood out in white against the background and, upon closer examination, sometimes revealed colored outlines, which made them even more sharply defined. Seen from a distance, the finish of the objects appeared perfect, although at close range there were clear traces of the hand of their maker. Because the works were spaced along the wall at regular intervals, I associated the signs with letters or words and the entire series with a sentence. Although what I saw and experienced felt very pleasant, I was also annoyed by the uncompromising and hermetic nature of the work, because when I tried to move a line or form on one of the panels visually, this could not be done: it was as it should be and could not be changed. And although the works mainly evoked linguistic associations, the ‘hieroglyphs’ remained unreadable.

By 1991, Ton Mars had entered into an encyclopedic phase, in which everything he had collected so far in his work and thought was coming together. By 1983, he had already begun to make small, square canvasses in which a color field incorporated forms that had been derived from furniture and architectural decorations. Over the years, the forms became increasingly abstract, the canvasses increasingly object-like, and the colors (which had initially been taken from nature) increasingly pure. The first appearance of signs in the form of slanting lines and pointed ovals derived from the square and the circle (the two primal forms) occurred in 1987. Initially, the signs seemed to be moving on the plane of the painting, but when the analogy with letters and words became more prominent, their motility decreased and they became linked to the coordinates of the plane.

In 1988, the originally square compositions were stretched out to form recumbent rectangles, and their colors now tended more towards the primary colors red, yellow, and blue, flanked by black and white. At this stage, the rules of the game had solidified, and the game became more and more fascinating to the artist. In 1991, the link with language became the decisive factor in the decision to create multi-part works. At that time, Ton Mars wondered how he could join the previously developed images to form a larger whole ‘like the letters in a word’. Since then, he has been making works which are based on drawings and consist of a minimum of two parts to a maximum of six . With this visual vocabulary of signs in a usually primary color field, Ton Mars reveals his artistic roots. He feels akin to painters such as Piet Mondriaan, Casimir Malevich, and Barnett Newman, but he will not follow the road towards the purely constructivist or formalist style of painting developed from their work. Although he uses the attainments of the pre-war and post-war avant-gardes, he is a distant cousin rather than a follower of these movements. His work cannot be placed in traditional categories: it is always ‘in between’.  Dialogues are always going on between drawing and painting, between painting and sculpture, and between image and language.


When asked why these dialogues are important to him, the artist answered that he regards them as various gateways to his work. Let us examine the entrance of the image and see where we end up. The first meanings are embedded in the direct manifestation of the works. This access to the work has been consciously formulated in a sensory-sensuous manner. If one approaches the objects frontally, their effect is mainly created by the brightness and the depth of the color fields, which either attract the light or—when the planes are mat black—absorb all light. The wall, too, assumes a color by way of the shadows and the reflections of the colored backsides of the objects. Strong afterimages are the result of the maximum contrast between the signs and the color field on which they appear. The three-dimensional nature of the works and the rhythm of their sequence invite one to walk along them, in which case they seem to protrude from the wall and at the same time withdraw within it. If a series of objects forms a slender band, it follows the horizontal movement of the investigative gaze. After a while, such a series seems to close round the viewer as a circle, because the first and the last panel display identical or similar signs. Because their dimensions are similar to that of a human being, the objects sometimes work as a kind of mirror that one feels attracted to or that one wants to distance oneself from.

Viewing therefore occurs in the literal movement of the viewer, and the works seem to move along. Not just the eye, but the sense of touch seems to be challenged too, only to be discouraged again by the perfection of the objects. One of the factors enabling this mode of touch-and-move viewing is the balanced, almost meditative, way in which the works are exhibited, so that the viewer gets the chance to approach each series separately. Because of its visual and physical qualities, the work of Ton Mars therefore also ‘speaks’ without words.

The artist feels that it is important to evoke the experiences described above, but the signs on the panels already provide a warning at the visual level that there must be more at stake. The forms are never completely closed, so that the figure and the background can alternate as the main element. Strictly speaking, the signs remain within the plane, but they seem to tilt or float, to strive for something, to open themselves or to close up. The center in the compositions always attracts the attention, because it is present and absent at the same time. Although the geometric center of a panel or series is always avoided, the signs do surround it. There is often a multiplication of signs at or near the center of a series that holds the viewer’s attention and from which the viewer’s gaze wanders away or to which it returns. Identical signs in a series may thus also be viewed differently. Although this work seems very simple, it is in reality hard to fathom: when you have nearly grasped what you expected, it slips from your fingers. Thus, viewing itself is activated and made into an issue, and one’s propensity to regard the signs as text becomes frustrated.


Nevertheless, the horizontal nature of the series in particular invites the viewer to read it. This offers a linguistic access to the work that yields yet more meanings. The signs remind one of fragments of letters of our phonetic alphabet. Sometimes they appear on the verge of being readable and still manage to thwart our attempt to grasp them as concepts. Although they have been derived from geometry, they tend towards the organic, which means they could be read as ideographs or pictograms. One may recognize leaves, fruit, eyes, but also spears, knives, boats, and cups, or sexual symbols such as those engraved in the stone formations of prehistoric monuments. The precise meanings of either pictography cannot be discovered. The ‘visual language’ of prehistoric times can no longer be decoded and the ‘visual language’ of Ton Mars has never had a code. In principle, the associative process can therefore continue forever. It is also not curbed by the order of the signs within the sequence, which reminds one of a sentence, since this order is based upon a visual cohesion determined by the maker and not on a syntactic convention as in an existing language.

The suggestion that one could read and understand this ‘writing’ is evoked by the analogy between the compositions and the temporal succession of letters, words, and sentences in language. However, the lack of a code ensures that what is shown will never function as a real language. The artist consciously employs this semantic and syntactic openness to set the mind of the viewer in motion, so that a process of meaning attribution may be started. To this end, he has designed a new, unreadable language, indicating that the work will show more of its content if one adopts a linguistic perspective.

As we have already seen,  Ton Mars is not a typical painter; he is interested in both images and language. Although his work may be inspired by texts as well as by visual, auditory, and olfactory sensations, the distance required to create images based on these initial inspirations will always be measured in language. Thus, ideas arise that guide both the formal organization of the work—for example the number of parts it will consist of or the color it will be—and its lyrical content. This also inspires the titles that reinforce the assumptions created by the images in the form of a ‘statement’. When one has already passed the gateways of the image and the ‘visual language’, the titles may persuade one to pass the entrance of the ‘linguistic image’ too, because the titles evoke ‘images’ or impressions that point to the content of the work.


The first title, Synonymous Works for Continents of the Mind, was formulated in 1991 for the first series of the six-part works.4 Although Ton Mars had always been interested in language, he had not given his works any titles up to that point, because he had not found the proper relationship between image and language yet. He was looking for titles with the same ‘poetic impact’ as the texts that he wrote and added to publications about his work (see the next section). After he had formulated the first title, he created other multi-part works with titles such as Rhythm and Rhyme for Oceans of the Mind  (1992, four parts), Talking and Thinking/Preaching and Praying (1992, five parts), and, recently, Directions for the Center, Nr.I (Faith and Perseverance) (1993, two parts). The ideas evoked by the titles briefly turn the viewer into a reader who withdraws from the physical space of the contact with the works into the mental space of the evoked ‘images’. Then the reader has to become a viewer again, albeit one who can adopt a new point of view with respect to the images. This new perspective has been made possible by the metaphorical approach of the artist, which he explains as follows in connection with his first title:

This title shows several characteristic aspects of my work. The association with language is illustrated by the concept of  ‘synonyms’, while the word ‘works’ shows that they are situated between two-dimensional paintings and three-dimensional objects. I have used the word  ‘for’ and not the word  ‘of’ , because  this is a tribute to a psychical area. The continents of the mind connect  the domain of the earthly with the mental domain, which is very important to me.5

As this quotation shows, Ton Mars uses several metaphors in his titles that are interrelated and also enter into a relationship with the numerical and color symbols used in the work. This method may be understood intuitively as part of the alternation between viewing, reading, and re-viewing the works, but it can only be analyzed properly if one is familiar with some of the characteristics of the metaphor. In this figure of speech, which has been studied most within linguistic contexts, various semantic fields are joined. In a literal sense, the cores of these fields are in contrast; however, within the metaphor the connotations become partially merged and thus form new meanings. In the metaphor ‘man is a wolf’, man becomes bestialized and the wolf somewhat humanized. The original meanings continue to exist side by side with the metaphorical meanings and create a permanent tension, so that the metaphor simultaneously points to something there is and something there is not, something that is similar and something that is dissimilar.

Metaphors abound in the day-to-day use of language and images, but poetry and the visual arts in particular use ‘image language’. By way of the imagination, metaphors balance on the border line between thinking and seeing, between the verbal and the visual, because they propose, as it were, to understand or to see something as something else. Visual metaphors affect the linguistic and conceptual levels as well as the visual level of images. The linguistic effect of a visual metaphor is most obvious in figurative art where, for example, the shapes of humans and animals may be linked. Such a metaphor may interact with a specific use of color, line, and form, for example to reinforce the aggressive nature of the created beast-man.

In non-figurative art, the pure elements of the image also have connotations, so that a red painting that contains pointed forms may create an aggressive impression. This metaphorical dimension of the image is extremely ambiguous, however. The same red painting may also be appreciated as being cheerful or fiery, although there is only a small chance that it will be experienced as sad. To guide the viewer’s sensations and interpretations into a particular direction, an artist may use a combined language-image metaphor by adding texts or titles to his images. The combination of title or text and image can then form a new metaphor that does not exclude ambiguity so much as narrow it down and channel it.6

Ton Mars makes good use of the latter option in particular. As we have seen, his works already contain many connotations at the visual level. Metaphorical dimensions are created by the depth of the color fields, the spatiality of the objects, their organization into several panels, and the potential meanings of the signs. However, these dimensions only come out when the images are linked to the titles. These titles may interact with the images at two levels. At the first level, the rhythm of the words may be linked to the rhythm of the signs and the sequence of the panels. At the second level, the verbal metaphors in the titles suggest a particular way of looking at the image. Thus, they offer a direction viewers may take when interpreting the work. This seems to provide some degree of certainty, but this is only relative. The titles do not comment on the work; instead, like the images themselves, they provide ‘building blocks’ that challenge viewers to construct their own bridges between image and language. When they do, they will not encounter fixed meanings but a lyrical content that they can relate to their own attitude to life. In the following interpretations, I will give examples of such a relationship with the work.

In his titles, Ton Mars uses linguistic metaphors and spatial metaphors in relation to attitudes of mind. Areas, sites, locations, and directions play an important role in his thinking in order to organize and link up both the material and the mental. In Synonymous Works for Continents of the Mind,  the organization of the earth into continents and oceans may act as a metaphor for the division of the mind into various domains. The five series of six-part works of the continents are ‘synonyms’ of each other, because they have the same dimensions and organization and incorporate similar but slightly different signs. Through their colors—red, yellow, blue, black, and white—they symbolize the moods of the mental domains. The titles not only clarify the content of the works but the objects also ‘color’ the titles. The yellow continent appears totally different from the red continent and it is the viewer who should connect the one with, for example, thought and the other with feeling. In combination with the images, the verbal metaphor in the title may therefore yield new, exciting metaphors. The recognition that Mondriaan also used these colors endows this viewing with an additional, historical dimension.

The mental orientation of the work becomes even more obvious in the case of Talking and Thinking/Preaching and Praying  (1992, blue). Here, the title may be regarded as an analogy that only becomes a metaphor in conjunction with the image. The two panels on the left and the two panels on the right of this five-part series have the same signs that move towards or away from the dissimilar central panel. This corresponds with the rhythm of the words in the title. Speaking and thinking, preaching and praying thus become connected in time and space and alternate with each other. The inwardly and outwardly directed and mainly linguistic activities denoted by the signs find a literal turning point in the central panel. The center, which is formed by the slanting line and the pointed oval, seems to shift constantly. The deep blue color symbolizes the mental aspect, both in the profane and in the sacred domain. Thus, a complex metaphor of the rhythm of the mental life that goes on in language is created.

Directions for the Center, Nr.I  (Faith and Perseverance)  (1993, black) is the first of a new five-part series of works.7  This series is the best illustration so far of Ton Mars’s metaphorical approach. The title of Nr.I  may be regarded as a verbal metaphor in which the various semantic fields co-exist in a state of palpable tension. The first part of the title could literally denote the direction towards the center of a town. ‘Take line 1 to the center’ will then reverberate in one’s mind as a prosaic statement. Only the second part indicates that it is attitudes of mind (faith and perseverance) that will lead to the center. What this center exactly is does not become clear, but the combination of title and images endows the images with associations that may give some substance to this concept. The black panels of Nr.I  are, as it were, mirrors of the spectator, because they are half as high as a person and carry signs in a light flesh color. This may reinforce the idea that the center should be found within oneself, perhaps even in one’s body. The two panels have two signs each and, in isolation, they may be regarded as representatives of attitudes of mind. Together they form a new whole with three signs. A shifting center is thus created, because the middle of the composition is located in the space between or above the panels. Where should one look for the center? In the emptiness or in the unfathomable black of the panels? And who or what is located at the center?

Interpretations and questions such as these only become possible when the viewer switches between image and language, when the various types of  signs overlap. Although all entrances to the work of Ton Mars are important and meaningful, his metaphorical approach can only be followed to a limited degree if one ignores the gateway of language. His objects are inviting and meaningful already at the sensory-sensuous level, but they only become individuals when their title (their ‘name’) is known and when they are addressed in the process of viewing and thinking. Then the suggestion evoked by the images—that they are all part of one family and are ‘synonyms’ or variations of the same complex of contents—becomes reinforced. To understand this better, I will address one last entrance to Ton Mars’s work and philosophy: his texts.


This gateway leads away from the perspective of the viewer and towards that of the reader, who will thus gain a better insight into the creative process and the constant motifs in this work. Language does not function exclusively for the benefit of the spectator here, but also as a kind of fuel that allows the artist to keep the creative engine running. This is especially clear from the texts that Ton Mars adds to his images in catalogues and other publications. These poetic texts have been collected under the title Hermetica  and are fragments of a ‘play’ in which three dramatis personae called Anthony (Mink) Swindon, Rachman, and Giovanni engage in conversation at several locations.8

The three companions originate from the north, the west, and the south respectively. They met in a remote house and have been discussing the world ever since. Their reflections are colored by their characters, tastes, and styles of speech. Anthony (Mink) Swindon is an aesthete who is fascinated by ambiguities and yet longs for beauty and harmony. Rachman has a philosophical bent; he distrusts the self-evident and analyses everything. Giovanni is unpredictable. He seems to adapt to the world of conventions, but he ultimately rejects it and calls for thought and action at a higher plane. He is the most important of the three as the leader who points the way to a spiritual attitude in thought and action.9 These personages each have their own specific relationship with language, which they formulate as follows:


[Strategies for the head]

Anthony (Mink) Swindon:

Ah, look how the words turn with doors, how they circle on plazas. Listen, how they moan in corridors and yearn in streets. Feel how they shimmer in magazines, shiver in banks, and go wild on highways.


Words! Words! Words! Hard words, soft words, green, yellow, blue, and red words. Male and female, exalted and sacred, mighty and deadly words. Miserable, strange, young and old, seeking, enamoured, and smart words. […] Even wordy words! Time wanders with them, around them, and inside them. Words conjure up any story. They play around in adventurous letters or make up addictive oratories. […]


If the words mirror the mind and proclaim its destination, then rub light from darkness, wrench coolness from heat. Tend the fire with warmth, tend the forest with trees. Turn your ear to the wind and caress the stones with your mouth. Breathe air into memory.10

The participants in this conversation are not purely fictitious. They constitute personifications of various sides of the artist himself. They are nuances of and variations on that single, fixed personality that is expected of a person in social life. Their main function is to call forth a ‘floating I’, so that the creative process may produce more than is possible on the basis of a fixed identity.11 In this way, several mentalities may be tested; several, even contradictory, attitudes towards the world may be assumed.

For—completely in line with their temperaments and characters—the personages act as guardians of the mental domains which provide the artist with his inspiration. The visual arts and poetry are the domain of Anthony (Mink) Swindon, while Rachman stands for a fascination with philosophy and Giovanni represents a desire for transcendence. He points the way to the spiritual domain and at the same time opens up the spheres of mysticism and the esoteric. In the same way as in the works, therefore, the texts suggest metaphorical possibilities; the personages explore the space in which new connections and configurations may be formed. Thus, they help to organize and shape the various forms of experience and knowledge.


As we have seen, Ton Mars is creating a system in which various components become connected. In my opinion, the structure of this edifice can only be truly understood if it is regarded as some kind of labyrinth. But which type of labyrinth provides a good insight into this system?12

The medieval labyrinth that came to mind when I read the title Directions for the Center, Nr.I  (Faith and Perseverance)  is both a physical path to be tread on the tiled floor and a spiritual path, a journey to the center of the world. This center does not house the Minotaur, as it does in the antique myth, but God and the self of the person. This self resides in the mind, which is also the place where the internal image of God rests. The search for the self therefore always leads to God. That is why there is only one path in the labyrinth: the path to the inside is also the path to the outside. Getting lost is impossible in a medieval labyrinth.13

Ton Mars’s system also has a spiritual direction, but this only indicates one of the paths people may take. As I have stated before, there are several gateways to his work; many orientations are thus possible and desirable. It is possible to pass the gates of the image, the visual language, the linguistic image, or the text. The paths one will then walk intersect in the individual works, as in small mirror cabinets above the main structure. More than medieval labyrinths, this image resembles the labyrinths constructed in baroque gardens. These labyrinths sometimes have more than one entrance, and one is severely tested before one reaches the center. Sometimes there is no center at all, or there seems to be more than one center, so that it is easy to get lost.14

We have already seen that the center is constantly called into question in Ton Mars’s work and philosophy. Although the desire for transcendence does have a religious undertone, it constantly oscillates between the suggestion of faith and its impossibility. For Ton Mars, the center is therefore no longer occupied by God. So, what about the self? Instead of one fixed personality, we encounter variations: three personages, each with a character of his own, who originate from various points of the compass and who are in constant debate about the world. They represent various mental domains and can thus help to bring together a variety of materials in the center, so that this project of constantly shifting metaphors may be continued.

In the work of Ton Mars, which at first sight seems very inaccessible, there appear, therefore, to be many openings, particularly because of the combinations of images and language. Besides purely visual forms, this work also contains elements derived from written language that point to a linguistic entrance. By giving his works metaphorical titles, the artist combines the broad connotations of the images thus created with the relatively clear meanings of the language. To this end, he uses the position of the metaphor on the borderline between the verbal and the visual and evokes ideas that may interact with the visual images to create new language-image metaphors. The poetic texts that accompany the images in publications illustrate the metaphorical potential of this enterprise, in which it is the aim of the artist to create and shape dialogues between various ways of experiencing, thinking, and acting.

Image and language supplement each other in the work of Ton Mars and contribute to the creation of a transparent artistic system. From the outside, this system looks sturdy and hermetic, but on closer examination it appears to be an open, labyrinthine complex with several entrances, paths and perspectives, in which the imagination may roam at will.


1.   H. Kern, Labyrinthe,  Munich 1982, pp. 13-33. 2.   I have mainly used the following publications here: J. Brand, N. Gast, R.J. Muller (eds.), De Woorden en de Beelden, exhibition catalogue, Centraal Museum, Utrecht 1991, and W.M. Faust, Bilder werden Worte,  Munich 1977. 3.   Most information for this article was obtained through interviews the author held with Ton Mars on 28 May, 15 July, and 30 November 1993 and 2 March 1994. Other materials used include: F.A. Hettig, ‘Ton Mars/Michel Sauer’,  in Kunstforum International,  vol. 102, 1989, pp. 358-359; H. Humeltenberg, ‘Schauplatz: Zu den Arbeiten von Ton Mars’,  in NIKE, vol. 6, no. 25, 1988, pp. 16-19; G. Lakke, ‘De Zaak’, in Metropolis M.  no. 3, 1986, pp. 28-33; M. Schaap, ‘Vijf schilders’, in Metropolis M.  no. 3, 1987, pp. 40-45. 4.   The five series have been created in black (1991), white (1992), red (1992),  yellow (1993) and blue (1995). 5.   Ton Mars, in an interview with the author on 28 May 1993. 6.   I have mainly used the following publications here: V.C. Aldrich, ‘Visual Metaphor’, in The Journal of Aesthetic Education, vol. 2, no. 1, 1968, pp. 73-86; M. Black, Models and Metaphors, Ithaca, N.Y. 1962, pp. 25-47; A.C. Danto, The Transfiguration of the Commonplace,  Cambridge Mass. 1981, pp. 165-208; N. Goodman, Languages of Art,  Indianapolis 1976, pp. 45-95; P. Ricoeur,’The Metaphorical Process as Cognition, Imagination and Feeling’, in S. Sacks (ed.), On Metaphor, Chicago 1978, pp. 141-157. 7.   In the meantime, Directions for the Center  has been expanded into a series of five two-part works with their own ‘subtitles’, which, in addition to Faith and Perseverance, include the following attitudes of mind: Knowledge and PurificationInspiration and Sacrifice, Desire and Devotion, Intuition and Experience. 8.   The title Hermetica may be linked with hermeticism, which derives from Hermes Trismegistus, the mythical philosopher-king of Egypt. Under his name, mystically oriented writings have been collected in the Corpus Hermeticum  from the first centuries AD onwards. Ton Mars only discovered these writings after he had formulated the overall title for his texts. For the personages see: T. Mars, ‘Hermetica, Datsja (Eerste Lokatie)’,  in Drukwerk De Zaak,  no. 21/22, 1984, p. 6. 9.   These personages were created after Ton Mars had read the poetry of the Portuguese poet Fernando Pessoa. Starting in 1914, Pessoa developed three poet-personalities, which he called ‘heteronyms’. Each of these poets has his own style, horoscope, and biography. See: Fernando Pessoa, Gedichten, Amsterdam 1978, translation and annotations: A. Willemsen, pp. 221-252. 10.  T. Mars, ‘Hermetica, (Zweiter Schauplatz), Strategien für den Kopf’, in Kunst Europa, 63 Deutsche Kunstvereine zeigen Kunst aus 20 Ländern,  exhibition catalogue, Mainz 1991, p. (15)42. (Quotation translated from the German.) 11.  S. Polet, De creatieve factor,  Amsterdam 1993, pp. 143-145. 12.  W.L. van Reijen, ‘Labyrinth and Ruin: the Return of the Baroque in Postmodernity’, in Theory, Culture and Society,  1992, pp. 1-26. 13.  J. Hani, Le symbolisme du temple chrétien,  Paris 1962, pp. 104-109; H. Kern, op. cit.  pp. 207-241. 14.  H. Kern, op. cit.  pp. 359-389.

Translated by: Paul Hulsman