Oeuvre

The drawings of Sigert de Waal are quiet in their execution and unsparing in their honesty. Working primarily in pencil, De Waal constructs worlds that are immediately recognisable yet subtly estranged, places where the familiar weight of daily existence is rendered visible, and where the possibility of relief, however tentative, is never entirely absent.

His work does not offer easy resolution. Instead, it lingers in the space between struggle and clarity, between the moment before a kiss and the moment of departure, between the sparrow that submits and the one that
turns to fight. Symbols are embedded with care: a broken fishing rod, a fin shaped like a heart, a bird ascending toward light. Each image rewards sustained attention, revealing layers of meaning that resist a single reading.

Rooted in the tradition of narrative drawing, De Waal's oeuvre is concerned above all with the interior life, with what it means to carry something heavy, to lose one's sense of direction, and to find, in an unexpected instant, the freedom to begin again. His is an art of the examined life: precise, considered, and quietly urgent.

On this page you will find:

Graphite & Ink

Paintings

An introduction

Graphite & Ink

In chronological order:

|| Trinity. 2023

|| Red Herring. 2024

|| Nästa the cat/Curly cat. 2025 || Enjoy the view. 2025 || Eternal snail. 2025 || Ce n'est pas un Canard. 2025
Free bird. 2025 || Rosé on point. 2025 || Blue Flower bouquet postcard, 2025

|| Murmuration of the population. 2026 || [UNTITLED]. 2026 || "Tool". 2026

Paintings

In chronological order:

|| Purple Coasts, Dolce vita. 2026

An introduction

De Waal's work arrives at a moment when its concerns feel particularly pressing. The tensions his drawings explore, between individual vulnerability and collective strength, between the abuse of power and the possibility of resistance, between surface appearance and interior truth, are tensions that define much of contemporary life.

In an era of fracturing solidarities, performative identities, and a pervasive sense of directionlessness, his pencil drawings offer something rare: a space for genuine reflection. They do not provide answers, nor do they attempt to. What they offer instead is recognition, the quiet but significant experience of seeing one's own struggles rendered with care and without judgement.

That this is achieved through the most unassuming of mediums, graphite on paper, only deepens the work's integrity. There is no spectacle here, only attention. And in that attention, the possibility of something like clarity