- ABOUT -

UK

Foto: Kristof Vrancken

Astrid den Haan (Gouda, 1974) is a self-taught, all-round photographer with a free spirit. In her work, she captures the beauty of the hidden side: the less obvious, the imperfect and the flawed. Astrid is drawn to what is not immediately visible, but all the more strongly felt.


Her way of working is observant and attentive, with a clear affinity for documentary photography. Her background in healthcare has shaped and strengthened her perspective: with empathy, patience and respect for people and their environment. These qualities resonate in her images.


Nature is an important source of inspiration—its power, its decay and the growing distance we as humans create from it. The everyday and the human also find an honest, unpolished place in her photography.


Astrid has been working as a permanent photographer for the municipality of Gouda for ten years. In addition to this work, she does a lot of independent work, which ranges from street photography to documentary photography and macro photography. Her images are pure and sincere; for her, photography is a way of observing, looking and playing with light.

 

I'm cycling home after work, already thinking about the day behind me. Then I see her. I slow down, turn around, and get off my bike. Leia, the dentist's cat, lies stretched out in the early spring sun. I take a few photos. When I greet her, she looks at me and sits up. For a moment, there's a connection. I get back on my bike and continue, smiling.

 

It's the little things that make all the difference.

 

My gaze focuses on what's often passed by or ignored: urban animals, insects, homeless people in the city. I try to approach what's perceived as difficult with attention. By getting close, I reveal what's usually missed. Not to romanticize, but to make room for a different way of seeing.

 

I'm an observer. Someone who slows down, becomes silent, and waits. The right moment sometimes consists of a fraction of a second. It's precisely at that point that an image emerges for me. I work intuitively, like a fly on the wall, without directing or softening. For me, photography isn't about myself, but about others and the connection that's possible in that single moment.

 

I also experience that mindfulness in nature. On a mountaintop, among the clouds, it's deathly quiet. No traffic, no voices. Only birds, a cow in the distance. I notice my breathing slowing; only then do I sense in my body the sheer number of stimuli daily life brings. In that silence, emptiness arises, but also abundance. The longer I stand still, the more I see and feel.

 

Perhaps that's where my attention to the unseen stems from. As a child, I often felt unseen. Now, I seek connection with what is easily overlooked. In people and animals, in the city and nature.

 

My photography invites us to slow down. To look again. To connect with what is already there. Not grand or loud, but close. In the small moments that together form the whole.

 

When we truly see the small things and recognize their beauty, respect arises. For what is vulnerable. For what seems difficult. For everything that matters. This is how we regain balance. By observing attentively, I invite the viewer to slow down, look again, and connect with the world around them and to go within. To connect with our own nature.

When we truly see the little things and acknowledge their beauty, respect arises. For what is vulnerable. For what seems difficult. For everything that matters. This is how we regain balance.