Willem Boronski Gallery

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Blue upon blue — layers that have hardened into architecture, walls that lean without falling, a room that was never meant to be entered. The paint carries the memory of ice: cold on the surface, but beneath it something still moves. Scratched lines cross the composition like thoughts that couldn't stay inside — thin, restless, unresolved.
And then the red. A single vertical presence on the right, upright and unhurried, neither explaining itself nor asking permission. It does not break the quiet. It simply refuses to become part of it.
This is a painting about thresholds — the place where structure becomes feeling, where the wall admits it was always soft. The box does not contain. It holds, the way cold holds breath: temporarily, and with a kind of tenderness it would never name.

The Box That Forgot to Close

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Scaramouche

A figure on the road — white coat buttoned to the throat, arms extended, legs dissolving into the landscape. But where the head should be, there is only blue: a column of vapor rising into cloud, or thought escaping upward into a sky that has no interest in giving it back.
The coat is neat. Almost formal. The kind of clothing worn by someone who still believes in the act of dressing. But the sleeves end in dark absence, and the body below the waist has already begun to merge with the ground it walks on.
On the left side, a small red triangle — insistent, private, unexplained. A wound that didn't bleed. A direction without a destination.
This is the traveler who carries everything except himself. The road continues. The coat continues. What was once a head is now weather.

Take-me-to-the-river

The-Fandango

The Edge of the Infinite.

Life and Death on the  Same Bike

It begins with a swelling that refuses containment. A red mass rises through the center, not as a body, not as an object, but as pressure. Lines scratch across it, searching for edge and definition, yet they slip. The surface holds and releases at the same time. Around it, greens and blues gather like weather forming behind glass.
The scratches do not decorate; they attempt escape. They trace the moment when something natural pushes through the frame of intention. The grotesque appears gently — not as distortion, but as growth exceeding its outline. What stands here is neither figure nor landscape. It is the instant before form decides what it will become.

Where the Wild Shape Wouldn’t Stay Still

Something presses downward long after the reason for it has faded. The red mass holds like a body that will not fully collapse, while a darker form leans in from above, almost touching, almost claiming. The paint gathers, drags, thickens; it refuses to lift. A vertical seam divides the surface as if time itself has been folded and stitched back together. Beneath the red, a shadowed ground absorbs what cannot be carried any further. The figure is neither stable nor undone — it hovers in the aftermath of impact. What remains is not the feeling, but its residue, settling slowly into the quiet space below.

The Weight of It Stayed Long After the Feeling Left

white

yellow

orange

purple

dark blue

green

light blue

brown

black

Acrylic

Aquatint

Canvas

Chalk

Charcoal

Clay

Concrete

Embroidery

Graphite

Gold

Mixed Media

Metal

Oil Paint

Paper

Pastels

Pencil

Pigment

Resin

Tempera

Textile

Watercolor

Collage

Other

Film

Digital

Ceramic

Wire

Wood

Yarn

Stone

Porcelain

Marble

Glass

Plastic

Design

Drawing

Engraving

Etching

Linocut

Lithography

Painting

Prints

Screen Print

Text

Work on paper

Photography

3D Print

Performance

Sculpture

Landscape

Portrait

Very large

Large

Medium

Small

Very Small

She is Buying a Stairway to Heaven

I’ve Travelled A Long Road Of Despair

The Flowers Are Dyin’ Like All Things Do

The Princes Kept The View

fleet-footed guides from the underworld

Falling Up the Broken Staircase

Can't remember when I was born And I forgot when I died

She Dressed in Bloom and Broken Sky

Exhibition “Drift” – Willem Boronski
Prologue: The Vertical Drift June 3 to August 27, 2025 – Cultuurhuis Huis Doorn

In this exhibition, originally titled “Drift”, Willem Boronski presents a selection of 22 abstract-expressieve works. While created intuitively ("without a map, but with a compass"), a recurring motif emerged during the process: The Ladder.

Retrospectively, this series represents the study of 'Vertical Drift': the human urge to climb, to build, and to ascend. The paintings explore the tension between order and disruption, balancing chance and intention.

These static works form the foundation for Boronski’s current multimedia project Painter on the Road (Studio Unit 1), where he steps off the ladder to explore the 'Horizontal Drift' of the eternal traveler.

Drift

Living life, hippie style

Willem Boronski Gallery

collection: Pocket Universes

Material