Hans Walraven paints like an alchemist. He does not stick only to canvas and paint, he makes mixtures and concoctions with which he treats his canvases. At one point he irrigates a canvas with a slow emulsion and lets it find its way across the canvas. At another point, he covers a canvas with tens of thousands of dots of pink paint. "It keeps you busy," he says. He is at work. Hans lets his work balance on a plane of aesthetic rancidity and hidden eroticism and sex. This feeling is reinforced by the solidified concoctions and other indefinable regurgitations populating his canvases. As a painter, Walraven occupies a completely unique position, and draws his very own plans.