Korean artist Kimsooja has transformed Amsterdam's oldest building into a powerful statement about migration and cultural diversity through her latest installation "To Breathe – Mokum" at the Oude Kerk (Old Church). The exhibition, running through November 9, features the artist's signature bottari – traditional Korean textile bundles used to carry cherished possessions during travel – scattered across the historic church floor as the city celebrates its 750th anniversary.
The installation takes on deeper meaning when viewed against the backdrop of the Netherlands' colonial past and contemporary political climate. The Oude Kerk, built 300 years before the Dutch colonial period and expanded in 1570, became intertwined with the wealth generated by the Dutch East and West India Companies' global operations. The church's own website acknowledges that it "could exist, flourish, and expand partly thanks to the proceeds of the major trading companies in the Golden Age," with some names and coats of arms immortalized in the building being part of that historical exploitation.
Kimsooja's bottari are filled with donated clothing from Amsterdam's various cultural communities, while the wrapping cloths themselves range from West African wax prints to other diverse textiles. This choice directly contrasts with the recently dissolved Dutch government's anti-immigration stance, whose far-right party attempted to freeze asylum applications and limit family reunification. The exhibition's title references the Yiddish word "mokum," meaning city or safe haven, creating an ironic commentary on current political attitudes.
The installation's second major element involves diffraction grating film pasted over 44,000 of the church's imposing window panes. This iridescent material refracts shifting sunlight into constantly changing pools of color throughout the sacred space. The multicolored light bathes the delicate bottari, drawing attention away from the church's monumental gilded organ and ancient stone graves that tile the floor toward these humble bundles filled with migration histories.
Art critic Teju Cole's analysis of Vermeer's paintings provides context for understanding how seemingly innocent artworks from the Dutch Golden Age – more accurately described as the colonial period – remain "inescapably involved in the world's messiness." Cole argues that the Netherlands' history of violent extraction and global oppression during that era, including its instrumental role in trafficking 1.6 million enslaved people over two centuries, permeates even peaceful domestic scenes in Dutch art.
The materials used in Golden Age paintings themselves tell this story of exploitation. Ultramarine paint made from lapis lazuli likely came from 17th-century Afghan mines, while precious metals in depicted objects probably originated from the brutal Potosí silver excavation in Bolivia. These luxury items became available through the Dutch East and West India Companies' key role in early capitalist exploitation and the largest forced migration in history.
Kimsooja's intervention in this historically loaded space creates what observers describe as a "quietly disruptive" presence. Visitors looking up to admire the grand architecture might trip over a bottari or find themselves distracted by rainbow light – visceral reminders that this seemingly beautiful monument to Dutch national heritage carries more subversive implications than initial appearances suggest.
The bottari bundles represent discrete, formalized objects that celebrate the glory of diversity while remaining "inextricably woven into and held within" the contemporary world. This world increasingly features nativist governments seeking to sanitize historical narratives and censor present-day discussions about migration and multiculturalism.
Though the exhibition materials do not explicitly state this intention, the installation illuminates Dutch colonial history while challenging contemporary right-wing attitudes that resist multiculturalism in favor of dominant cultural or national identity. The work serves as both refuge and resistance in what critics describe as an "anti-refugee world."
Kimsooja, whose four-decade practice has consistently featured bottari as central elements, has created an installation that functions on multiple levels. The work simultaneously honors migration experiences, critiques historical exploitation, and offers sanctuary within a space built partly through colonial wealth, creating a complex dialogue between past and present attitudes toward cultural diversity and human movement.
