Interview with Vita Soul Wilmering

For the exhibition Out of Office (Still Here), Quiller MacQuarrie conducted interviews with all the several artists. This interview is with Vita Soul Wilmering, creator of the film The Failed Holiday, Episode 10. The film contemplates holidays in relation to ever-changing family dynamics. As you sit on an orange couch you travel through film into a family's tumultuous yet nostalgic time jumps, reminding you of family holidays that failed.

Quiller:

How do you see your work connecting to the exhibition and its themes of access to free time and leisure in relation to summer vacations?

Vita:

If I think only of the film, Failed Holiday, it connects on many different levels. It's not so literally about who can afford to go on holiday in a financial way, or in a more paperwork-related way — whether you can travel or not — but more about stability within the family. When the ground is shaking under your feet, that changes the whole idea of enjoying free time.

The film speaks indirectly about my parents' divorce. It's not explicitly mentioned, but that was really the starting point for thinking about how we experience holidays. I never really thought back on it as a very stressful time, but later I felt — especially on holidays, when everyone is supposed to be happy — that one parent was actually grieving, or trying to accept something that wasn't their choice, or trying to figure out how to deal with splitting up. When you feel that your parents are sad, you start, maybe as a kid, wanting to make them happy. And then you're on holiday and something hijacks the whole idea of it.

Quiller:

Would you say that your artistic practice feels more like leisure/play or like work and labor?

Vita:

Maybe more like play and leisure, I'm not sure. But it definitely feels more like that than work. I grew up with two parents who are artists, so I've always had this example that you can live from art — you might have to teach alongside it, but it's possible. I feel very lucky for that.

I remember going to a museum during art school and discussing a work by Bruce Nauman, and I almost couldn't form an artistic opinion about it, because I had known this work since I was a child running around that museum. It felt like childish nostalgia — his work is kind of the image of my childhood.

My dad always said that being an artist is a way of living — it's so incorporated into your daily life. My life becomes part of my work. I've always enjoyed just going out and making something, like a kid, and I still do. I use my films as a way to connect and speak about things that might be difficult to talk about directly with close friends. I find a lot of meaning in that.

Of course, I'm also learning to differentiate — I see my work as an editor as something I can charge for when working with other people. But when I'm just making my own stuff, whether I'm going to get paid or not, I make it. And even if one day I decided to stop being an artist and had another job, I'd still keep making things.

What's also interesting is that when I made my last film with my dad, Insomnia, I felt that of course I wanted to bring it out into the world and show it to people — but the process of making it was the most important part. It was so meaningful and beautiful and fun, even when it was difficult, because he was very ill. But sometimes I'm already occupied with the next project before I've finished presenting the last one. The fun part has already passed — it's in the making.

Quiller:

What is your favorite memory from a summer period?

Vita:

I'm not sure if I was really happy in the moment, but looking back it's a really nice memory. It was the first holiday I went on with my cousin — we were both 15. Our parents allowed us to bike through a few cities in the Netherlands. We were super dedicated and well-organized: we emailed all the campsites saying, "We saw on your website that under-16s can't come, but our moms agree — can we still make an exception?" And they all said yes, of course, because we were two girls on bikes.

We arrived at the first campsite so proud of ourselves, put up our tent, and our bikes were very fully packed. Then the next morning we woke up and it was raining, and it turned out we'd put the tent in a hole, so everything was soaked with water. But we still felt so cool, because it was really the first time doing something alone.

We were also very stingy — we allowed ourselves apple pie only once during the whole holiday. Each campsite was about seven euros a night, so we were constantly calculating to spend as little as possible. We were afraid we'd run out of money. We were also fighting a lot, including about whether we were allowed to eat the cake. So I'm not sure if I was always happy in the moment, but the memory is very sweet.

Quiller:

What do you like to do with your free time?

Vita:

Hanging out with people. I'm not very good with too much free time — I always want to do things. And I'm not so good at being alone, not because I feel bad about myself, but I just get bored. I think I feel most relaxed and rested when I'm around other people. So mostly having dinners, playing music, that kind of thing. But also making things together — working on some weird project, making something for the house, working on someone's boat. Something with an outcome that's satisfying.

Quiller:

What is your favorite memory from a summer period?

Vita:

I'm not sure if I was really happy in the moment, but looking back it's a really nice memory. It was the first holiday I went on with my cousin — we were both 15. Our parents allowed us to bike through a few cities in the Netherlands. We were super dedicated and well-organized: we emailed all the campsites saying, "We saw on your website that under-16s can't come, but our moms agree — can we still make an exception?" And they all said yes, of course, because we were two girls on bikes.

We arrived at the first campsite so proud of ourselves, put up our tent, and our bikes were very fully packed. Then the next morning we woke up and it was raining, and it turned out we'd put the tent in a hole, so everything was soaked with water. But we still felt so cool, because it was really the first time doing something alone.

We were also very stingy — we allowed ourselves apple pie only once during the whole holiday. Each campsite was about seven euros a night, so we were constantly calculating to spend as little as possible. We were afraid we'd run out of money. We were also fighting a lot, including about whether we were allowed to eat the cake. So I'm not sure if I was really happy in the moment, but the memory is very sweet.

Quiller:

What do you like to do with your free time?

Vita:

Hanging out with people. I'm not very good with too much free time — I always want to do things. And I'm not so good at being alone, not because I feel bad about myself, but I just get bored. I think I feel most relaxed and rested when I'm around other people. So mostly having dinners, playing music, that kind of thing. But also making things together — working on some weird project, making something for the house, working on someone's boat. Something with an outcome that's satisfying.

Quiller:

How did the different family dynamics of both times influence the creation of the film — both when you were making the failed holiday series and when you were editing and putting the film together as an adult?

Vita:

The big question when I found this material again was: how much did we know then? The films were made between 2008 and 2011. In 2010 we went on a family holiday, and during it my dad told me he wanted to take a different direction. It came as a surprise, though apparently my first reaction was something like "So actually..." — as if I had a hunch. But I don't think I did. After he told me, I lived in complete denial. I just pretended it wasn't happening.

My dad was doing a residency in Paris at the time, so when we came home, nothing really changed — he was already away. Only when he came back after more than half a year and started living in his studio did it become real. I wasn't even telling my friends. One of them said, "My mom spoke to your mom in the supermarket and she said your parents aren't together anymore," and I said, "Wait, what? No, no."

I wonder now, with these films, because we started making the series before that holiday — so the idea didn't come from the divorce. But maybe quite quickly after, it became part of it. Maybe it was a way for me to articulate my feelings without having to talk about it directly. I also made theater pieces at that time where characters were mysteriously separated — people splitting up due to fate. I don't think it was conscious. It was like being a child at play, but when there's a camera, you're allowed to keep playing because you have a good excuse: we're making a film. The themes were always quite serious, sometimes even violent, even though my parents were never violent.

When I was actually editing the film, it was COVID lockdown. My sister was living in Scotland, my parents were both in Haarlem in their separate houses. All four of us were in different places, communicating through phone and video calls. There was also some distance — everything was on pause. The family dynamics were kind of dormant because we weren't together. But that was maybe also a moment for introspection. I think we were all really alone with our thoughts during that period.

And then later, when I made Insomnia with my dad, I realized there were still a lot of things for me to work through around the divorce. Bringing that into the film started another level of change — finding more comfort in talking about it together. But that came way after Failed Holiday. Maybe when illness enters the picture, everything has to be recalibrated and you find new balances.

Quiller:

How did the different family dynamics of both times influence the creation of the film — both when you were making the failed holiday series and when you were editing and putting the film together as an adult?

Vita:

The big question when I found this material again was: how much did we know then? The films were made between 2008 and 2011. In 2010 we went on a family holiday, and during it my dad told me he wanted to take a different direction. It came as a surprise, though apparently my first reaction was something like "So actually..." — as if I had a hunch. But I don't think I did. After he told me, I lived in complete denial. I just pretended it wasn't happening.

I wonder now, with these films, because we started making the series before that holiday — so the idea didn't come from the divorce. But maybe quite quickly after, it became part of it. Maybe it was a way for me to articulate my feelings without having to talk about it directly. I also made theater pieces at that time where characters were mysteriously separated — people splitting up due to fate. I don't think it was conscious. It was like being a child at play, but when there's a camera, you're allowed to keep playing because you have a good excuse: we're making a film.

When I was actually editing the film, it was COVID lockdown. My sister was living in Scotland, my parents were both in Haarlem in their separate houses. All four of us were in different places, communicating through phone and video calls. There was also some distance — everything was on pause. The family dynamics were kind of dormant because we weren't together. But that was maybe also a moment for introspection. I think we were all really alone with our thoughts during that period.

And then later, when I made Insomnia with my dad, I realized there were still a lot of things for me to work through around the divorce. Bringing that into the film started another level of change — finding more comfort in talking about it together. But that came way after Failed Holiday. Maybe when illness enters the picture, everything has to be recalibrated and you find new balances.

Quiller:

You mentioned that looking back on the series, you and your sister think your intuition might have been warning you about your family separation. Do you think the series is a reflection of how you felt on holidays you actually experienced, or a reflection of the direction your familial life was heading?

Vita:

I don't think I genuinely felt something was going to happen — my parents weren't fighting much. But I think it was a deep fear of mine, because I had friends whose parents had already divorced, and that seemed like the worst thing that could happen. I really thought, if that ever happens to me...

And when my dad told me, my first reaction was "So you're actually divorcing." He always thought I knew it was coming, but I'm still not sure. It might come more from the fear that it could happen, and maybe even having asked my parents to promise it would never happen — and then it did. But fear can have a different scale; it's not as if I lived with this big fear every day. Maybe it reflected that somehow without me being fully aware.

I also find the title Failed Holiday such a genius one that we came up with — I'm still not quite sure where the idea originated.

Quiller:

Do you think you had any real failed holidays that influenced the series?

Vita:

Well, the one with the divorce, of course — though that was halfway through the period we were making the films. I remember before that, parents being tired on the road, taking the wrong turn and people getting annoyed — wanting them to be happy and feeling that they were stressed. Those kinds of things. But we also had a lot of fun holidays.

I think the element of something failing almost makes it more fun, and more memorable. And I always felt a lot of love and care in my family — there were no real big gaps between us. So there's definitely warmth when I think back on those holidays, even the ultimately failed one. We still went to Brittany together for two weeks after my dad told us. We were struggling as a family and we were just little kids doing our own thing.

And when I asked them if they had photos from that trip for the film, I found a series of photos in the misty Brittany landscape — cold and windy — where they're walking away from each other but also looking back at each other at the same time. I almost cried when I found it. It touches me every time to see that part of the film.

Quiller:

How do you reflect on these ideas now, and how do you engage with holidays?

Vita:

I travel a lot, but I don't always call it a holiday. I go to Bulgaria often to see my partner's family — that's definitely a holiday, but also a family visit. Sometimes I combine travel with work, going to film festivals and doing some shooting alongside. The weekends don't really exist in my life in a clear way. It's a sort of blur of pleasure and work and everything — there should be another word for it. It's both nice and annoying.

One thing I find very interesting — and I did some research on this for my master's on amateur film — is how even children's fantasies are so brutal and violent. When kids play, they play military scenarios or big dramatic things. We see the contrast because they're small, and at the same time they're acting out something intense. I think it says something human — why else do so many people love action films? And it makes me wonder: can a holiday ever really be innocent?

Quiller:

Are you going anywhere this summer?

Vita:

Bulgaria again, with the same route —passing by Slovenia to visit a close friend, and another friend in Belgrade, then Sofia