Willem
Willem Kips is a man who defies convention. From a childhood that began in Hong Kong, as a son of the family behind the meat company Kips, to decades spent cultivating the land as an organic farmer, to rediscovering life through motorcycling and philosophical reflection. His family’s story, his deep relationships with extraordinary people, and his ideals for a better world are threads that weave through every chapter of his life. In this journal, we dive into his journey, exploring the lessons he’s learned.
That’s a beautiful ring you’re wearing. Can you tell me what it means to you?
Willem: This ring is one of the most meaningful things I own. It was designed by my best friend, who made identical rings for me and my wife. She passed away last year after a long battle with cancer. Losing her has been a profound challenge—it’s like learning to live all over again. I carry this ring as both a memory of her and a reminder of the life we built together during our 18 incredible years of adventure, creativity, and love.I met Silvia through a friend, and from the moment we started talking, I knew she was special. She had effortless confidence and a directness that I found captivating. When I suggested a restaurant for our first date, she said, “No, that place is too special. Let’s go to a pizzeria. If I don’t like you, I’ll just pay for my own pizza and leave.” I admired her honesty and independence—it was refreshing and rare. From the beginning, I knew she was extraordinary.Can you explain that feeling?
Willem: Honestly, that spark is not something you can fully put into words. It’s a feeling—something that happens when you meet someone and instantly know they’re special. For me, it often starts with curiosity. I pay attention to how people carry themselves, how they look at the world. There’s so much you can tell just by looking into someone’s eyes.Some of the most meaningful relationships in my life have begun with those moments. I’ve met people in the most unexpected ways—in a shop, at a gathering, or during a trip—and within minutes, I felt a connection that went far deeper than casual conversation. Often, we discovered shared passions: a love for adventure, touring on motorcycles, or exploring the vast landscapes of the USA. These shared experiences created bonds that felt more like a soul connection than friendship.
Speaking of motorcycles, you didn’t start riding until your fifties. Why then?
Willem: It was part of reinventing myself. After years of running an organic farm, I found myself craving freedom—both physically and emotionally. Motorcycling gave me that. There’s something raw and honest about being on a bike. Unlike driving a car, where you’re enclosed, on a motorcycle you’re part of the world around you. You feel the wind, smell the fields, and hear the hum of the road.I ride Harley-Davidsons now because they’re about touring, not racing. It’s not about speed; it’s about the experience. Life is like that too. People get so focused on reaching the next milestone, they forget to enjoy the process. For me, the joy is in the journey—whether it’s riding through mountains or planting seeds on a farm.From the way that you look, I wouldn’t say you’d be a farmer. What inspired you to start?
Willem: Well, I took quite an interesting detour. My father comes from a butcher’s family—but that field of work never really interested me. My parents met in Hong Kong, that’s where I was born. When I was six, we moved to Amsterdam. So you could say I was a city boy. But I was always drawn to nature, and my mother cared deeply about what we ate. I think that’s where my love for wholefoods started. But instead of following my gut straight away, I enrolled in psychology and economics at the University of Groningen. It just wasn’t it. What I liked most about studying in Groningen was the organic shop where I bought my vegetables. I realized I wasn’t made for a desk job. I wanted to work with my hands and do something meaningful. So I quit my studies and asked the farmer from the shop if I could work on her land in Friesland. That’s where I felt like I belonged and where my ‘career’ started.There’s something deeply satisfying about working the land. I remember my first harvest of witloof, digging into the cold, dark soil and uncovering those pale roots—it felt like magic. Over time, I learned the rhythms of the earth, which crops thrived in which conditions, and how to work with nature rather than against it. I had my own ecological farm in Flevoland on which I mainly grew vegetables. Later, my wife and I planted a vineyard seven meters below sea level. We called it “Min 7.” It wasn’t just a farm; it was an art project, something we built together from the ground up.
Organic farming in the polder sounds like it came with challenges. How were you received?
Willem: Not easily. The polder is the heartland of conventional farming, and I didn’t fit their mold. I didn’t look like a farmer, and my methods—focusing on soil health, biodiversity, and natural cycles—were considered strange. But we proved it could work.Our land became some of the most fertile in the region, teeming with earthworms and producing vibrant crops. At one point, we even received an award for having the best soil in the Netherlands. For me, that was the ultimate validation—knowing that we were leaving the earth better than we found it."For me, it often starts with curiosity. I pay attention to how people carry themselves, how they look at the world."
BounceSpace’s building at Overtoom 141 has also been part of your family’s story. Can you share its history?
Willem: My father bought the building in 1980. Back then, it was a factory for ball bearings, built with sleek glass and concrete. For its time, it was incredibly modern—an industrial structure with clean lines and lots of natural light. I think that’s part of what drew him to it. He had a deep appreciation for architecture and spaces with character, and I like to think that rubbed off on me.Over the years, this building has seen so many transformations. After the factory closed, it housed many different projects. It became a youth center for Moroccan teens, then it was an art space, and for a while, the Stedelijk Museum even used it as a temporary home. Now BounceSpace and Vondelgym have been here for around 11 years. This building has always been more than just bricks and mortar. It’s interesting to see the building change over time by the people that give it life.
