Major Arcana and archetype
Christine’s project does not aim to explain Tarot or instruct its use. Instead, it
translates an existing symbolic sequence into sculptural presence, inviting
viewers to encounter the figures physically, and to recognise what resonates.
My path to Inner Voice
Inner Voice is the convergence of a lifetime, personal history, spiritual inquiry, and a devotion to making. What began as an inner language of symbols, numbers, and archetypes gradually insisted on taking physical form.
The question I am often asked is when my interest in tarot began, and why I felt compelled to create these sculptures. It is a question that requires time and reflection, because there is no single moment in which something begins or ends. There was no lightning strike, no clear instruction. The process unfolded gradually, from within.
From an early age, I was drawn to mystery. As a curious child, I was fascinated by questions of origin and meaning: death, astrology, ancient civilizations, religious rituals, initiation, the pyramids, reincarnation.
I was interested in history and personal stories, especially those marked by emotional depth and lived experience. I was always asking myself why things existed as they did.
Creativity was not optional, but essential.
I once encountered astrology through a reading that, at the time, I could not fully recognize as my own. Many years later, rereading this chart, I was struck by its accuracy. It described a life shaped by tension in youth, delayed unfolding, challenges with language, and a deep need for self-expression through art. Creativity was not optional, but essential.
For many years, I worked in psychiatry, within a mental health hospital. Over time, however, I began to feel an increasing pull toward drawing and visual expression, which eventually led me to train as an art teacher. Around the same period, I moved from Amsterdam to Rotterdam, got married, and became a mother of two children.
Tarot revealed itself to me not as prediction, but as a mirror: a house filled with reflections, where each card represents a phase of inner transformation.
I later undertook formal studies in tarot and related esoteric disciplines, allowing this intuitive recognition to deepen into lived knowledge. Tarot revealed itself to me not as prediction, but as a mirror: a house filled with reflections, where each card represents a phase of inner transformation. It became a language through which personal growth, shadow, and consciousness could be seen and felt.
According to astrology, my north node lies in the ninth house, a position associated with the urge to bring one’s spiritual vision into the world. I experience this not as theory, but as a deep inner knowing. It feels less like a choice and more like a recognition of what needs to be done: to give form to a life philosophy and to carry questions of meaning outward through creation.
The Major Arcana revealed itself through a profound spiritual experience. Light appeared unexpectedly from above, illuminating two elongated sculptures standing in shadow in my home. In that moment, an inner knowing arose: the Major Arcana asked to be brought into form. Their narrow, vertical presence revealed itself as the physical language through which these archetypes wished to exist.
In that moment, an inner knowing arose: the Major Arcana asked to be brought into form.
From that moment on, the Arcana began to seek embodiment. The impulse did not come from planning or intention, but from receptivity. The Major Arcana asked to be made visible.
The Major Arcana translates this inner world into physical form. The sculptures are long and vertical, shaped by archetype, number, element, and symbol. They are not illustrations of cards, but presences. Each figure carries an inner truth that does not ask to be explained, only encountered.
Creating these works required surrender. I did not work from concept, but from listening. Often my hands knew before my mind. Attempts to change a face or alter an expression were resisted by the material itself. My rational mind wanted change, yet my hands refused. The work does not come from will, but from listening.
It took many years of sustained work before the Arcana could be realized, each figure requiring time, solitude, and full dedication. Much of this work unfolded in isolation. As an artist, I disappear into the act of making. I am not concerned with myself, but with line, form, movement, and the quiet intensity of creation.
Each material carries its own soul, its own weight, memory, and history. Clay, wax, foam, textile: each responds differently and asks for a different kind of touch. I work with my hands, warming the wax until it becomes pliable, shaping it slowly and attentively. The act of making becomes a form of prayer. It releases me from the noise of daily life and opens a deeper creative reality.
During times of collective darkness, such as the Covid-19 period, this process became a way of releasing suffering and illusion, and of learning to let go. Through creation, questions of compassion, forgiveness, and humanity came into focus. Inspiration reveals itself in moments of clarity and gratitude, when something essential becomes visible.
The Arcana are not created from an idea of beauty, but from what emerges through my hands.
Selected Work
IIII. The Emperor
Bronze, life-size
Detail
Front view
Pendent detail
The King
Close-up shoulder
Process
Foundry
The King
Close-up shoulder
Artist's Voice
Becoming
From first gesture to final patina, the cycle emerged through repetition, doubt, and devotion. The foundry becomes a second studio—where bronze records every decision, every touch, every silence.