“Je maintiendrai!” declares the Dutch duo De Witte Kunst towards the invested crowd of what looks like maximum 20 people who instead of hitting a pub with their co-workers or home to their families have decided to spend their first hour of weekend in Concerto record store in Amsterdam. The night before singer Koen van Bommel and synth-wizz Lyckle de Jong celebrated the release of their second EP Spek en Bonen (eng. bacon and beans) together with the Gronings Huub Prins under the roof of Amsterdam’s Cinetol. What has remained after the night is the unpainted face of mime-like Koen and intimate arrangement of bacon and beans. 

After two years since their self-titled EP, De Witte Kunst proves that their existence is not for spek en bonen – not for nothing, not for the laugh and definitely not for the show. All of these being essential points to prove to someone who might be experiencing them for the first (or maybe even the n-th) time, Van Bommel and De Jong recall the ancient worlds of Atlantis and El Dorado that we all dream of without realizing. Respectable positions in society, business magnates promising the better world and expeditions towards the utopian cities that have been lost ages ago is the main thread throughout Spek en Bonen. Keeping it as short and straightforward (well, as straightforward as De Witte Kunst can be), the EP does not extend over half-an-hour which robs De Witte Kunst from any reason why they should not perform all of their new songs. 

As the duo opens the set with the first song of the EP “Je Maintiendrai”, in the already intimate room where people have bonded over the uncanny attraction for the duo, Van Bommel is breaking the fourth wall by comparing himself to any of us who are devouring the performance with our eyes: “Mijn naam is Koen ik lijk op jou” (eng. My name is Koen, I’m just like you). De Witte Kunst guys look like someone who have just finished their nine to five office job and have decided to make music as a side gig after finding endless possibilities of preinstalled sounds on their vintage keyboard that remind of schlager or your own childhood bangers on one of those electronic pastel color pianos. But it’s not that innocent as it sounds – De Lyckle’s dedication for the instrument allows him to play with listeners expectations that he teasingly disturbs with nauseating note-bending or a note that could be mistaken as a deceitful slip. Just listen to the first thirty seconds of “Troon” – the final song on their new EP – and tell me how that made you feel.  



Even though every encounter with De Witte Kunst means a step closer in figuring them out, some questions still remain. “But what are you trying to say with De Witte Kunst? What does it mean?”, I ask them after scrolling through the bare minimum of countless DVDs that we have been surrounded with during the last hour. “It sounds intimidating. Like a cult,” answer Van Bommel and De Jong referencing the infamous Fat White Family and the legendary no-wavers Suicide. “But what are we trying to say with the lyrics? I don’t know,” laughs Van Bommel to which he quickly adds the answer that I’ve seen coming a mile away: “It’s for people to make out what they want out of the lyrics.” Nothing groundbreaking nor revelational, but proving at least one point – there can be no universal reading of De Witte Kunst. However that does not write them off as traditional bacon and beans that you can have with your English breakfast.